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A nocturnal bounty of fae dew-kissed petals and pale fruits: white grape, white peach, iced pear, musk rose, sweet pea, moonflower and snapdragon. Pastel fruits drenched in morning dew - the white grape, white peach, and pale yellow pear are gorgeous and delicately sweet. The petals are blended so well that a single note is hard to identify, although the sweet pea seems to be the most prominent, and the dew figures prominently into this scent - it really sparkles in an aquatic, dripping, and slightly breezy way. In the end ... actually, from about the first thirty seconds on ... Titania is one of the most "melded" scents I've tried; the individual notes are almost indistinguishable, and the nature of the scent is complete and otherworldly. Titania is a hidden garden grove of common fruits and flowers, but so much better than the "everyday" that they seem unreal in their perfection. Glittering with moisture graced to them by a presence you can't quite comprehend, the fruit and petals are at the single instant of being exactly ripe and full-blown, and you're stumbling across a moment of perfection that wasn't meant for we lesser mortals. Light, intense, and ethereal.

A dizzying eddy of four teas brushed with light herbs and a breath of peony. I may have found my signature scent. For me, the Dormouse is fresh green apples, with the juice of a ripe peach splashed all oved it from one big, messy bite. Perhaps a little fig, too, although the fig note Beth uses doesn't always register with my nose as such. These are such a perfect blend, without being bubble-gummy or fruit-baskety. Definite dewy greenery, too - maybe dandelion? Clear, with a crystalline lustre to it - almost vibrates on my skin. I am basking in this one; I can't wait to find out what the ingredients are and to be able to order a full-size bottle! EDIT: Added Lab's new description and moved this to Mad Tea Party - it's official! --Shollin

Whimsical, temperamental, radiant and ravishingly beautiful Goddess of Volcanoes, Fire, Lightning and Dance. She is the Mother of Eruptions and the personification of destructive power. Volcanic eruptions are said to be a side-effect of her jealous rages and her epic quarrels with her siblings are legendary. This perfume embodies her gentler, benign aspect as the capricious Goddess of Dance: muguet and Hawaiian white ginger enveloped by warm, damp tropical blooms. This up-and-coming scent is still listed as a work in progress, so the Imp I received with my order may or may not be what it turns out to be when it's released. Absolutely stunning, Pele is the embodiment of Hawaiian florals. White blooms carried by the armful up a volcano slope, they're gently dusted with pale yellow pollen that leaves them with a pale golden sheen. I'm guessing Hawaiian white ginger (pikake), a touch of hibiscus, and wisps of plumeria. Soft, creamy, and all woman. Lush and sensual, she's certainly not the kind of woman you'd scorn. Can't wait to see what this turns out to be; even though I'm not a fan of white florals, this tropical gem is definitely on my to-order list! [added official description ~qs]

A paean to all the Wicked Queens, Evil Stepmothers, and other misunderstood villainesses throughout history and lore. Lends an aura of majesty, refinement, strength, and a deep, brooding malice. A sophisticated, womanly scent: rich myrrh and jasmine draped in the subtlest rose. Just a hint of rose, draped like a mantle over regal jasmine. Bitterness is evident in the snap of myrhh, and the whole picture is one of a strong, wealthy woman intent on revenge. The jasmine never goes soapy, and the rose sweetens as a counterpoint to the bite and depth of the myrhh. In just a couple of minutes the individual notes disappear and the combination is locked together, radiating from my skin in epicurean waves.

Expanding the Intellect - Quick Wit - Mental Agility - Communication - Travel -Calculation - Analysis - Learning - Teaching - Gambling - Study - Creativity -Magickal Acumen - Good Conversation - Chance Happenings - Adaptability <span style='color:black'><span style='font-size:10pt;line-height:100%'><span style='font-family:Georgia'>I never imagined cinnamon and lavender could smell so good together! I think there's a hint of pine in here, too, but I can't be sure. Suprisingly balanced for such a surprising scent. My nose is confused by the red and purple together, because it's so unexpected but so very breathtaking! I feel vibrant compared to before I put this on, and that's pretty amazing, as I was celebrating the arrival of my package. Update - Sensitive skin? Be careful. I usually have no problems with sensitive skin aside from my face, and I turned pink and itched a little with this one. Heavy on the cinnamon content, so use caution or dilute if you think you might have problems.</span></span></span>

Olive leaf, raspberry leaf, vetiver and cedarwood. With a complete opposite in the fruity greenery of raspberry leaf setting it off, cedarwood is the middle note of this scent that never ends up smelling like a cedar tree. Olive leaf has to be the crisp green note that makes me think of sweetest green grass - it has just a hint of astringency- and this clear, striking scent has just the tiniest drop of vetiver to anchor it, as it's all but unnoticeable here. These blend so beautifully, and so unexpectedly - and they mellow into a perfect blend that no longer has individual notes. Alecto is fascinating and inspiring, and there's no doubt I'll be ordering it.

Beautiful, radiant daughter of Demeter... her loveliness was so exquisite that even Hell itself could not resist her. Pomegranate and rose. Persephone is a crisply sweet rose scent that drew RAVE reviews from the guys in my office. It was hard to keep a straight face while guys ten years younger than I tried to explain to the student worker in the office how feminine and *juicy* she smelled, all while I'm standing at the copy machine three feet away and being the actual culprit. She got four dates out of it, so it'll be a repeat purchase for me, and perhaps a birthday present to her!

A shot of pure, self-indulgent euphoria! A scent that is very, very wicked in its own way: the serotonin-slathered scent of pure milk chocolate. This is practically a single note, because it is indeed milk chocolate. I say that it's practically a single note, because my nose thinks there's just the tiniest bit of caramel in this, too. It's hard to keep from licking myself while I wear this.

A chilly, bright perfume: flurries of virgin snow, crisp winter wind and the faintest breath of night-blooming flowers. Limited Edition; December 2003. Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab has been outdoing themselves with the limited edition scents lately, and this is a sterling example! This is an airy, crisp, barely floral that is warm and soft, all the while making me picture the first snow and the sharp, clean scent that accompanies it. I know warm and snow don't sound like they go together, but let me assure you that they do! My all-time favorite. I wonder if Elizabeth would consider keeping some of the limited editions based on customer response ... I'd e-mail daily on this one.

A commanding, dominant oil that increases sexual magnetism, creates an intense and irresistible air of attraction, and amplifies potency. Sniffing this out of the bottle, I was sure I'd come across a strong, Southern, white floral. I put it on, and much to my surprise, the first whiff was of moderately chewed Bazooka bubble gum, with just a tang of cinammon underneath. Hmmm.... Five minutes later, the cinnamon is more predominant, with jasmine, herbs, wood, and smoke creating an abolutely fascinating aroma. 30 minutes later, the cinnamon is fading and a sugared bourbon vanilla is emerging, along with strengthening jasmine. It's not too strong, it's not too overwhelming, and it's oddly not as "pushy" as I expected. It is most assuredly a scent that embodies "getting others to do what you want while convincing them it was their idea all along."

A bright, bittersweet scent honoring the Japanese Deity of Love and Passion. Aizen-Myoo is one of the vidyarajas, the Shingon's Radiant Kings of Wisdom. Though Aizen-Myoo possesses the lust, grace and passion of both genders, he most often appears to his followers as male. His face is screwed into a fearsome demonic mask, but this is only the wrathful, fierce countenance he places over himself to guide and empower his children. Aizen-Myoo is the patron of prostitutes, of joyous, unbridled sexuality and of all forms of erotic love and is worshipped by all those in the sex industry, musicians, and - oddly - landlords. Yuzu, kaki, and mikan with cherry blossom and black tea. Bright, joyous, unbridled - these are perfect for Aizen-Myoo! Crisp, sharp, glorious yuzu - think peeling a grapefruit, tangy and vibrant, and smelling the pith and juice after you stick your thumb into it ... but even better - and a distinctly clear and softly sweetening tea note. Aizen-Myoo jumps off of my skin for the first few minutes, and as the citrus notes begin to recede - never fading away, mind you, the cherry blossom starts to emerge, as does the faintest tinge of campfire smoke. I want to bathe in this all summer long. God, this is beautiful! It's like a diamond, in that it has brilliance, depth, clarity, and that undeniable appeal you're powerless to resist.

Non compos mentis, indeed! A contrary, conflicted scent, bubbling with merry madness. Contains apple, rose, and lemon. Fruity rose, indeed! The lemon really gives the rose a sharper "push" off my skin, and the apple provides an entirely different crisp, green juicy element. Fun and lovely, although Beth makes so many other wonderful rose scents that I probably won't wear this one as much as it deserves.

The Lady of the Snow, Winter Ghost, Snow Queen. A chilling, haunted blend of bergamot, lemon verbena, sandalwood and jasmine. When this first went on, all I got was Lemon Pledge. Mind you, I love lemon, and even Lemon Pledge pleases me to a degree, but Lemon Pledge is reserved for cleaning house. Within five minutes, though, the jasmine was peeking through, and Lemon Pledge with jasmine is a winner, believe it or not. Yuki-Onna wasn't finished, though, and the bergamot crept into the picture, really rounding it out to a bright, heady scent. I can imagine that the sandalwood with these really gives Yuki-Onna a surreal anchor and completes the picture. Unfortunately, the sandalwood never made it to the surface on me, so it seemed like the scent was lacking completion. I'll wear this as it is, but think it will have more to offer someone witha different chemistry.

From the Funereal Oils collection: An allegorical expression of the ineffable, indisputable triumph of death, generally expressed in medieval artwork as a violin or flute-wielding skeleton leading a procession of dancers to their graves. Black cypress with oakmoss, frankincense, oude, and a sliver of toasted hazelnut. Out of the vial, this seems sharp and not all that promising. Long ago, though, I committed myself to trying any and all BPAL that came in front of me, so I dabbed in on, anyhow. The frankincense is the more bitter, resinous note I'm used to, and the oakmoss provides a grounding, earthier tone for it. There's a slight astringent note that quickly warms and blends, and it's reminiscent of a drop of juniper - and a little drop, at that - I don't know if that's the oude, which the internet tells me comes off of the aloeswood tree. This dries down to warm wood and light, and the barest touch of soft hands on the back of your neck. Subtle, relaxed, and full of inevitablity, Danse Macabre would have me snuggling up to a man who wears it, and I'd wear it myself, although probably not often enough to use more than an Imp.

Arabian musk with two roses and a bevy of Middle Eastern and Indian spices. I always shunned rose scents before BPAL came into my life, but Beth does such an exquisite job using them that I find myself owning tons of oils with rose in them. Othello is no exception, but I love it because of the way it doesn't really smell like roses. Beth's going to kill me for this, but ... Othello is the ultimate version of my laundry fabric softener and dryer sheet. Mind you, I looked for years to find just the right one; after all, it's what you smell when you go to sleep on clean sheets and what you smell when you put your clothes on in the morning, so I was remarkably picky. Othello's crisp with such soft, clean lines - yes, there's roses, and yes, there's spice - but they combine into something that stays light and fresh without ever being "foofy" or soapy or overwhelmingly floral. It's not a superficial scent, either - it has a strength and depth of character, as well. I know this was designed as a "guy" scent, but I'll be wearing it all the time.

The rich scent of wild blackberry breezing over gentle rosy heather. Sniffing the bottle, I was worried about the possibility of one of those gel-cone-things on the back of my grandmother's toilet being the result, but her bathroom should smell so good. It's hard to write this review from the floor, where I'm busy twitching in complete ecstasy. For Easter last year, I bought potted heather plants and gave them to my then in-laws. My mother grew up in eastern Oklahoma, and we often go pick blackberries when we visit my grandmother. This is the perfect combinaton of fields of what that heather, along with baskets of not-too-ripe blackberries and a few of their crushed leaves, would smell like.

Brings peace to the spirit, a sense of calm and fulfillment, and attracts the aid of beneficial spirits. This is the embodiment of the color green. It's a flowing sort of green, like tree leaves rustling in the wind or water barely moving in a lagoon, and it's a warm sort of green - herbal, but not really, and it's a solid sort of green, with the strength of a field where kids are running through a field chasing fireflies, breaking stalks as they go. Go easy applying this one. It's soothing, but it's stout. It's really a (sorry, fellas) single drop in your cleavage kind of oil, and that lasted me for hours. Definitely brought me peace and a sense of calm; I was facing three exams and a major project in the course of 18 hours, and I was able to stop, re-focus, and relax my shoulders to more than 2 inches below my ears, all within five minutes of putting this on.

The crisp, clean scent of green tea touched with lemon verbena and honeysuckle. My spring/summer staple! Sparkling, pure, and clean without the "cleaning supply" smell many lemon and tea scents take on. One of my all-time favorites. Old Shanghai is a multi-tasker: wearing this puts me completely at peace while invigorating me at the same time, clears my senses, soothes my toddler when she's fussy, and - you're going to laught at me for this one - shuts down a hungry tummy.

A light, invigorating floral and citrus blend. Tuberose, lotus and jasmine with a hint of lime. Definite lime to this one, but it's the dark green rind of the lime, tart and zingy, along with the juice from the fresh half you're squeezing for the margaritas. It makes the lotus and jasmine absolute sparkle, with the tuberose still creamy and lush. This is a liquid smell, but not one of water. I'm not a white floral fan, but the lime changes this into something I not only want to wear, I can. Never over the top, no small children fall gagging at the white floral cloud around me, and I don't smell like a department store counter; there's no headache or sneezing when I wear these scents tied up by the lime. I think this would be a distinctive, pleasant way to wear a white floral if your chemistry usually contrasts violently with tuberose or jasmine, and it's so different from regular white florals that you should invest in an Imp if you typically despise those types of scents. Really in a league of its own.

Lightning slashing the midnight skies over the endless reaches of the ocean. The electric tang of ozone, marine notes, and a drop of sharp rain. Clean, crisp, and yes, electric. Out of the bottle, I was afraid this was going to turn into one of those scents that people put in the middle of toilet paper rolls, but it's beautifully blended and doesn't get "perfume-y." Tangy salt air, flowing water, and oomph.

From the Bewitching Brews collection: The essence of magickal enigmas and long-forgotten esoteric mysteries. Frankincense, rosemary, lavender, neroli, and verbena. Before my life was what it is now, I had a jar full of herbs and incense that a friend had given me for safekeeping, in what is a long and for this avenue, unrelated story. Arcana, though, transports me instantly to unscrewing the grey metal lid of that jar and breathing in the fading, drying scent of a beloved friend who I couldn't be with in spite of us both desperately needing each other at that time in our lives. Lavender and rosemary, softened by the creamy neroli and pale verbena, are almost edible in their lemon-herbal splendour here. Frankincense, which I usually find bitter and dry, gives this an airy but powerful top note that is somehow the support for all these bright, resonating herbs. No medicinal quality, as you might expect from lavender and rosemary, and an unexpected gentleness that's powerful while still seeming to echo from far, far away.

Venerable Victorian Tea Rose… twisted, blackened and emboldened with wickedness. I found this one to be lightly rosy, but in a crumbling, dried rose sort of way. Add in a sputtering fire from the alleyway; a bit of wet wood. Not too sweet, with an musty earth smell under it. Wore well throughout the day, but without turning into an overpowering or cloying tea rose scent. Nice!

My mother's from a very rural, very poor part of Eastern Oklahoma - she didn't have running water in the house until she was fifteen, if that tells you anything. She had lots of love growing up, but not much of what you and I might consider everyday fare, and I got to sample some of that lifestyle as a child, because we visited regularly. Beth's sassafrass note is the real thing. It smells exactly like the homemade root beer and candy I turned my nose up at as a kid, and my mother confirmed this, pulling back from this smell in what was close to revulsion. It's not that it smells bad, mind you - it is, in fact, a lighter, more astringent version of root beer as we think of it - but it's definitely representative of a life she's basically left behind. It's real, though, and it's a lot of fun. I got just a bit on my hand when she jerked back, and the next time I walked through the living room, my father started sniffing and looking perplexed. He headed to the pantry and started digging through soda bottles to see if any were root beer, which he "just got a hankering for, for no good reason."

The Lion, from Mad Tea Party: The dry, glorious warmth of the Savannah. A golden, spiced amber, proud, regal and ferocious. He's strong and swarthy, with the tiniest bit of cinnamon and moderate spice hanging in the air around him. I swear I smell the cat smell that comes off the lions at the zoo - thick fur, a bit of dirt, and some sort of hay or pellet-ed food from a nearby enclosure. There's a hint of sweetness - I don't know if this Lion is from the Wardrobe, or the Lion and Unicorn scene in Alice, but he very well could have been eating mirror cake to get this faint sweetness under it all. Maybe a hint of clove, or ginger? I don't usually care for those two, so I can't identify which it is, but it's very nice here. The Lion dries down soft, fuzzy, and with a faint, powdered-sugar lushness that keeps it from being exactly sweet. That particular note is similar to the divine soft, almost-sweet, dryness in Old Morocco, but without the saffron vibe. I imagine this is what it would smell like to walk up to a sleeping lion at the zoo -one who's just had a bath and is laying in the sun, after rolling around in a patch of soft dried grass - and bury your face in his warm, wooly mane. Edited to add - I ordered a bottle of Egyptian Amber single note from the Lab, and hadn't opened it yet. The minute I opened the bottle, I was bowled over by both the scent and my ignorance, because it was the faintly cinnamon note in the Lion that I love but couldn't identify - turns out the Lion is loaded with egyptian amber! EDIT: Added Lab's new description, moved from Up-and-Coming --Shollin

Pure internal harmony and spiritual bliss: the perfected meditation blend. I am going to be so embarassed when I find out what's actually in this one; it'll be one of those "smack-yourself-in-the-forehead" moments, because I *know* these scents. If Beth didn't do such a good job of blending them, this would be much easier. My first impression was a drop of chocolate, a mystery floral that shouldn't be a mystery, as I've smelled and reviewed this note, and touch of cloves. I mean it when I say a touch of cloves; I really have to search to identify it before my chemistry shoves it into overdrive, but it's enough to throw me off the track on the floral note, which I'm beginning to suspect is frangipani. Tranquil and soft, like an old shirt you've worn soft ... but better. There's peace and contentment in this, with a hefty dose of depth and disconnection blended in. Subtle, with strength and nobility.