I recently qualified to teach English and published four classics in various editions: Agatha Christie’s The Mysterious Affair at Styles (featuring Poirot) and The Secret Adversary, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein and Shakespeare’s MacBeth. They have proved so popular that I decided to give them their own page on my blog!
Category: AUTHOR LAZLO FERRAN
Duas novas edições para meus fãs brasileiros e portugueses!
O Sol Brilhante Demais
Um homem determinado busca vingança pela morte de um amigo, em batalha!
Em busca de vingança pela morte de um amigo há dez anos, Major Jake Nanden tem combatido seus demônios pessoais, com um fervor quase religioso, tanto em sua vida pessoal como em batalha.
Ele é um soldado tão altamente condecorado por bravura que sua fama o precede mesmo além da desolada lua em Júpiter, Io, onde seu batalhão está posicionado. No entanto, suas vitórias nas guerras Jupiterianas lhe parecem vazias, pois ele é um homem que teme sua própria alma.
Sua vida parece ser uma armadilha da qual não consegue escapar. Sendo de um pelotão replicante, que assim como clones, são odiados por todos.
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Ataque ao Bunker de Hitler! – A invasão secreta da RAF para bombardear o Bunker de Hitler em Berlim que nunca aconteceu – provavelmente.
Rudolph Eineger foi deixado com o dedo dentro de um corpo morto. Repulsado, retirou-o e limpou-o na túnica preta da SS.
Richard Earlgood, um piloto de caça rebelde da RAF, e Michael Dorfmann, um ambicioso agente duplo da Luftwaffe, planejam um ataque audacioso a luz do dia usando caças Hurricane, carregados nas costas do bombardeiro quadrimotor Stirling para alcançar o quase completo… inexpugnável… Bunker do Führer neste livro de ficção ambientado na Segunda Guerra Mundial.
Anna Styles, uma decodificadora da Estação X, tinha um romance com Dorfmann em Oxford e está sendo forçada a “cuidar” do agente duplo. Ela ainda ama Dorfmann, mas se apaixona por Richard também. Esta invasão singular para bombardear o Bunker de Hitler pode vencer a Guerra, mas apenas um homem pode ganhar o coração de Anna Anna.
A maioria do pessoal de Hitler simplesmente não acredita que tal invasão seja possível, mas um oficial cruel da SS não vai descansar até pegar Dorfmann e derrotar os Britânicos.
— Yesterday’s was the last daily update from Rip – Find the Magic Key. —
I won’t be posting more daily updates from the world of Rip here because it’s too time-
consuming. But I will continue to do so on Twitter and Instagram so if you want to keep
up, go to:
— Brina is keelhauled. —
Brina didn’t remember what keelhauling was, but she decided she didn’t want to know.
Many of the ship’s crew stared at their feet while others dragged her to the bow.
“Do you think this a good idea?” she heard Devlin say to Brindley. “Suppose she dies? She probably will!”
“Then we won’t be docking in Tasman.”
“She’s only a woman!”
“Shut up Devlin. Do it now!”
The crewmen lowered Brina over the bow by the length of rope attached to her wrists while another sailor guided the other length of rope to the stern. He worked it under the moving ship’s hull and pulled it taught.
“Ready!” he yelled from the stern.
Six men lowered Brina to the crashing bow-waves, while three others hauled on the stern rope. Her feet touched the cold water, so she began to take deep breaths, taking her last a moment before her head went under. After that, she understood little of what happened, except that the sea battered her against the barnacle-studded planks of the hull and her lungs began to scream with the agony of asphyxiation. She held on as long as she could, feeling her chest convulse with its primitive urge to breath. The last thing she saw was a patch of light in the bottle-blue water behind her thrashing legs.
“You’re a lucky bitch!” a male voice said. “The Captain wouldn’t have revived anyone else but you!”
— Omah needs a shave. —
“I need a shave.”
“Let me show you. Take this off first.”
She tugged on the collar of his jumpsuit.
“Oh no! You’re not getting me naked that quick.”
“Ha! You’ll see us naked before too long. Don’t be shy.”
“Alright! Just strip to the waist then.”
Omah unfastened the sticky front tab and peeled the smooth, metallic top down to his waist, rubbed his bare chest out of embarrassment and gave Archivist a lopsided grin.
Now look in the mirror and say, “Shave!”
“Shave! Hey! What’s this! I have a white mark on my chest. Like a key!”
“Yes. I thought it was kinda cute when we were shown your body in one of our first briefings.”
“Oh god! You mean you’ve seen me naked?”
“Sure! All of it. And you’re quite a healthy man.”
Omah blushed and replied.
“But what does this mark mean? Do you have it?”
“No. You’re the only one. We don’t know what it means. You had it when you came to u- … . Oh there, now you’re jumping the gun! Or making me! Let’s do the shave.”
“But wait a minute! At least it’s something not blue! And Controller; he seems very emotionless and blank. Are you all robots?”
Archivist’s laugh sounded like the delicate titter of a teenage girl.
“It sometimes feels like it.”
“Androids then? Cyborgs?”
— Omah learns about nano-generators, commonly called n-gens. —
“Ship!” he said out loud, not being able to remember the correct name of the intelligent machine. “Can you hear me? R19 or whatever you’re called. Ah, it had something to do with water. Now I remember. R1902, do you hear me?”
“I hear you Omah. But my correct name is R19020.”
The ship’s voice was low, soft and soothing. But Omah couldn’t tell if it was male or female.
“Can you put the light on please? I’m not sleepy.”
The light came up to a comfortable day-time level.
“Thanks! Also, I need something to eat. I’m starving!”
“Your last century was the late 13th of the 6th Age. Do you recall it?”
“Some of it.”
“Do you recall microwave ovens?”
“Now we have nano-generators. Some call them n-gens. They create almost anything, up to the size capacity of the generator, from a block of white plasma. To the right of your desk, above the bookcase, you will see its door. You may tell it what you want yourself by speaking clearly. But now I will do it for you.”
“I see it.”
“What would you like to eat?”
“Roast chicken with bread sauce, mushrooms, carrots, sprouts and gravy. Followed by hot apple pie and cream.”
“Coming right up!”
“You sound like one of those vid chefs!”
“When you see a red, flashing light, you can safely open the door.”
— Omah isn’t disappointed when he finds out Archivist wasn’t inviting him to have sex. —
“You didn’t sound very certain back there,” Archivist told him as soon as they had left the Ward Room.
“I’m certain of nothing right now!”
“I meant your choice … . The tour?”
“It wasn’t an invitation for sex,” she added. He felt the buggy’s pace quicken slightly, keeping pace with her.
“I didn’t think it was. It just felt nice to hear somebody talking in a homely fashion. I guess it relaxed me.”
Omah caught a glimpse of Archivist in a wall’s polished surface. He decided he preferred her dark brown hair to Soother’s black. He had to jolt himself out of comparing them both.
“Yes. My mother used to say, “Bed for you,” as if it were a state of being, rather than a place. Just like you did.”
“Oh. I don’t remember my parents. At least I don’t think so.”
“Now you don’t sound so sure.”
“No. You don’t understand … . Oh, it doesn’t matter.”
“It’s okay. They left most of your memory intact.”
A picture in his mind gave Omah another jolt.
“I think I just remembered my partner!” he cried out. “Her face!”
“Was she beautiful?”
“I guess. But I really miss her already. And it seems like only yesterday.”