There is a land which exists not in ordinary space and time, but only in our collective imaginations. A land where, far removed from the turmoil and strife of great cities and kingdoms, good men can live simple, honest lives, and pass on their values, little changed by the passage of time, to their sons and grandsons, and from them to their sons and grandsons.
     In such a land, romance often takes root and grows. Of course, for the people who live in such a place, things are not always as easy or as pleasant as we might want to imagine, for happiness rarely comes without a price, or adventure, without great danger. But when true love blossoms, they — and through their stories, we — can enjoy a truly magical experience.
     A river passes through this land, dropping swiftly from its source neath snow-capped peaks, then peacefully winding through a gently rolling valley, ever westward, to the sea. The vale and its river share their name, and from them and the novels set in this land, we take the name of our company — Erindale.