One day – actor-turned-detective – Anthony Noir receives a letter from California, in which an old lady asks his help in the investigation of a long-ago case. On New Year’s Eve 1929 a famous Hollywood actress died in a car accident. The mysterious client implies it was – in fact – a deliberate murder. Anthony discovers all the possible details of the extraordinary assignment, even so he has to embark on an extensive journey to the past before he can unveil the secret of the movie star…

Addison Holmes élete romokban hever. Szerelme az oltár el?tt úgy d?nt, mégsem mondja ki a boldogító igent, a balul sikerült esküv? számlái pedig kifizetetlenül hevernek állandóan beázó lakásában. Mit tesz egy elhivatott tanárn?, ha komoly pénzzavarba kerül? Talán kül?nórákat vállal? Esetleg k?lcs?nkér a szüleit?l? Egy józan gondolkodású lány bizonyára ezt tenné, Addison azonban nagyobb haszonnal kecsegtet?, de annál is t?bb kockázattal járó mellékállást vállal, és elszeg?dik sztriptíztáncosn?nek. A lány, aki mágnesként vonzza a bajt, r?vid úton egy gyilkossági ügybe keveredik, így jobb híján felcsap magándetektívnek. Még szerencse, hogy segítséget kap egy hihetetlenül szexi, de elviselhetetlenül szemtelen rend?rnyomozótól, akinek élete titkokat rejt… Kaland, szerelem, romantika, humor és mindenekfelett egy ?rülten szerethet? f?szerepl? teszi felejthetetlenné a Go-go girl sorozatot. Fej?s ?va

Fiatal, gy?ny?r?, gazdag és tehetséges, ráadásul a világ egyik legnépszer?bb színészn?je. Kell ennél t?bb a boldogsághoz? Bizony kell! Ha valaki, hát a huszonnyolc éves Connie pontosan tudja, hogy a jó adag csillámporral beszórt hollywoodi álomgyár valójában darálógép, ami szép lassan kizsigereli az embert. De egy nap betelik a pohár! Amerika üdv?skéje fogja magát, és elsz?kik Los Angelesb?l. Nagy titokban egy aprócska skót faluba utazik, mert cs?ndre és nyugalomra vágyik. Lochnabrae tényleg képeslapra kívánkozóan idilli hely, na de hogy békés lenne? Ugyan! Az amerikai sztár nem számolt a végletekig szókimondó és pletykás helyiekkel, akiket hosszú távon szinte lehetetlen elviselni, mik?zben jóval szerethet?bbek, mint a lány által túl jól ismert sztárok. Színpadra vinni a falubeli amat?r társulattal a Vízkeresztet egyszerre vicces és ideg?rl? feladat Connie számára. Persze valószín?leg k?nnyebben boldogulna, ha a szívd?gleszt? rendez? – aki megfogadta, hogy soha t?bbet nem kezd színészn?kkel ? nem lenne annyira undok vele. ?s f?leg, ha kevésbé szikrázna a leveg?, valahányszor egymásra néznek… ?Kiugrani a sajátunkból, hogy kipróbáljunk egy másik életet? Ki ne játszott volna még el a gondolattal? Hiszen ?másnak mindig k?nnyebb?... Sz?kés, szerelem, újrakezdés – err?l szól Victoria Connelly romantikus regénye. Akinek tetszett a Bárcsak itt lennél, vagy rajong Cecelia Ahern regényeiért, az ezt a k?nyvet is szeretni fogja!” Fej?s ?va

Csak szenvedélyes erd?járóknak! Filozófikus eszmefuttatások erd?r?l, madarakról, fegyverekr?l, vadászírókról és veszend? értékekr?l. Harmincegy állatmese a mátyásmadárról, a ravasz nyúlról, az Apró Vadászok Egyesületér?l - és persze az erd?r?l. A népszer? vadászíró (Az id?r?l és az erd?r?l, Az erd?r?l és az elt?nt id?r?l, Az elveszett erd?r?l és a megtalált id?r?l) újabb párbeszéde a természettel.

Dina Kane számára a szépség több mint vonzer?. Több mint üzlet. A szépség hatalom. Ám Dinának keményen meg kell küzdenie ezért a hatalomért, míg eljut a szegénységb?l és a kiszolgáltatottságból a leggazdagabb New York-i n?k szívéig. Kezdeti naivitásával csúnyán visszaél egy férfi, aki akkor még nem sejti: Dina Kane személyében nem egy eltaposható, buta fruskát gyalázott meg. A lány nem mindennapi képességekkel rendelkezik, ami a kereskedelmet illeti, és egy kis kozmetikai üzletben felfedezi azt, ami igazán érdekli: a szépségipart. Csakhogy a sikert senki nem garantálja. Egy kallódó testvér, egy gonosz anya, a pénztelenség és túl fiatal kora mellett még egy akadály az útjába áll: egykori megszégyenít?je, az aranyifjú Edward Johnson is kemény ellenfélnek bizonyul. Dinának azonban nemcsak szépsége különleges, de kitartása is. Felveszi a keszty?t, hogy megküzdjön mindazokkal, akik útjába állnak. Er?, kreativitás és kitartás – ez Dina mottója.   Nem véletlenül mondják, hogy egy szép n?nek mindig nehezebb érvényesülnie a pályáján, hát még akkor, ha az ötleteivel felülmúlja a kollégáit és a versenytársait. Dina er?s n?, aki akkor sem adja fel, amikor már mindenki más feladná a helyében... Fej?s Éva

Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, 'and what is the use of a book,' thought Alice 'without pictures or conversation?'So she was considering in her own mind (as well as she could, for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her. There was nothing so VERY remarkable in that; nor did Alice think it so VERY much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to itself, 'Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be late!' (when she thought it over afterwards, it occurred to her that she ought to have wondered at this, but at the time it all seemed quite natural); but when the Rabbit actually TOOK A WATCH OUT OF ITS WAISTCOAT-POCKET, and looked at it, and then hurried on, Alice started to her feet, for it flashed across her mind that she had never before seen a rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket, or a watch to take out of it, and burning with curiosity, she ran across the field after it, and fortunately was just in time to see it pop down a large rabbit-hole under the hedge. In another moment down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again. The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way, and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself falling down a very deep well. Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she had plenty of time as she went down to look about her and to wonder what was going to happen next. First, she tried to look down and make out what she was coming to, but it was too dark to see anything; then she looked at the sides of the well, and noticed that they were filled with cupboards and book-shelves; here and there she saw maps and pictures hung upon pegs. She took down a jar from one of the shelves as she passed; it was labelled 'ORANGE MARMALADE', but to her great disappointment it was empty: she did not like to drop the jar for fear of killing somebody, so managed to put it into one of the cupboards as she fell past it. 'Well!' thought Alice to herself, 'after such a fall as this, I shall think nothing of tumbling down stairs! How brave they'll all think me at home! Why, I wouldn't say anything about it, even if I fell off the top of the house!' (Which was very likely true.) Down, down, down. Would the fall NEVER come to an end! 'I wonder how many miles I've fallen by this time?' she said aloud. 'I must be getting somewhere near the centre of the earth. Let me see: that would be four thousand miles down, I think—' (for, you see, Alice had learnt several things of this sort in her lessons in the schoolroom, and though this was not a VERY good opportunity for showing off her knowledge, as there was no one to listen to her, still it was good practice to say it over) '—yes, that's about the right distance—but then I wonder what Latitude or Longitude I've got to?' (Alice had no idea what Latitude was, or Longitude either, but thought they were nice grand words to say.) ? ? ABOUT AUTHOR: ??Charles Lutwidge Dodgson (1832 – 1898), better known by his pen name, as “Lewis Carroll”, was an English writer, mathematician, logician, Anglican deacon and photographer. His most famous writings are Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and its sequel Through the Looking-Glass, as well as the poems "The Hunting of the Snark" and "Jabberwocky", all examples of the genre of literary nonsense.

F?szerepl?nk Kópé, egy erdei manó, aki kirándulók fogságábae sik, majd az erd?b?l egy f?városi lakótelepre kerül. A manó megsz?kik a rabságból, és meghúzódik egy limlommal zsúfolter kélyen. Nem esik kétségbe, hanem kényelmes kuckót alakít ki a kacatok k?z?tt. Kópé az épület el?tt magasodó akácfán k?zlekedik az erkélyek k?z?tt. ?gy talál egy barátot, Dórit, aki egyedül él az anyukájával, és soha nem járt erd?ben. A manó mesélni kezd az otthonáról, az odvas t?lgyrol, a barátairól. A mesékhez Dóri rajzokat készít. A rideg lakótelepen nem ismerik egymást az emberek, és éppen Kópé kalandozása, kíváncsisága hozza ?ket ?szsze. Dóri megismerkedik Olga nénivel, akit?l kertész kedni tanul,virágokat nevel az erkélyen, másoktól cicát kap. A k?nyvben az izgalmas kalandokat, mint például amikor Kópét majdnem elüti egy autó, vagy amikor lepottyan egyik erkélyrol a másikra, mulatságos részek gazdagítják. Az erdei él?világ valóságh? bemutatása keveredik a fantáziavilágbeli lények, tündérek és manók jellemzésével. Megtudhatjuk például, milyen is egy manó esküv?! Ajánlott korosztály: 5 és 10 év k?z?tt.

When does life begin?... A well-known book says "forty". A well-known radio program says "eighty". Some folks say it's mental, others say it's physical. But take the strange case of Mel Carlson who gave a lot of thought to the matter. Mel felt as if he were floating on clouds in the deepest, most intense dark he had ever experienced. He tried opening his eyes but nothing happened, only a sharp pain. Little bits of memory flashed back and he tried to figure out what could have happened, where he was. The last thing he could remember was the little lab hidden back in the mountains in an old mine tunnel. Remote, but only an hour's drive from the city. What had he been doing? Oh yes, arguing with Neil again. He even recalled the exact words."Damn it, Mel," his partner had said. "We've gone about as far as possible working with animal brains. We've got to get a human one." "We can't," Mel had disagreed. "There'd be enough of an uproar if the papers got hold of what we've been doing with animals. If we did get someone in a hospital to agree to let us use his brain on death, they would close us up tighter than a drum.""But our lab's too well hidden, they'd never know." "It wouldn't work anyway. The brain might be damaged for lack of oxygen and all of our work would go for nothing. Worse, it might indicate failure where a fresh, healthy brain would mean success.""We'll never know unless we try," said Neil almost violently, dark eyes glittering. "Our funds aren't going to last forever."

To the irreverent—and which of us will claim entire exemption from that comfortable classification—there is something very amusing in the attitude of the orthodox criticism toward Bernard Shaw. He so obviously disregards all the canons and unities and other things which every well-bred dramatist is bound to respect that his work is really unworthy of serious criticism (orthodox). Indeed he knows no more about the dramatic art than, according to his own story in "The Man of Destiny," Napoleon at Tavazzano knew of the Art of War. But both men were successes each in his way—the latter won victories and the former gained audiences, in the very teeth of the accepted theories of war and the theatre. Shaw does not know that it is unpardonable sin to have his characters make long speeches at one another, apparently thinking that this embargo applies only to long speeches which consist mainly of bombast and rhetoric. There never was an author who showed less predilection for a specific medium by which to accomplish his results. He recognized, early in his days, many things awry in the world and he assumed the task of mundane reformation with a confident spirit. It seems such a small job at twenty to set the times aright. He began as an Essayist, but who reads essays now-a-days—he then turned novelist with no better success, for no one would read such preposterous stuff as he chose to emit. He only succeeded in proving that absolutely rational men and women—although he has created few of the latter—can be most extremely disagreeable to our conventional way of thinking. As a last resort, he turned to the stage, not that he cared for the dramatic art, for no man seems to care less about "Art for Art's sake," being in this a perfect foil to his brilliant compatriot and contemporary, Wilde. He cast his theories in dramatic forms merely because no other course except silence or physical revolt was open to him. For a long time it seemed as if this resource too was doomed to fail him. But finally he has attained a hearing and now attempts at suppression merely serve to advertise their victim. It will repay those who seek analogies in literature to compare Shaw with Cervantes. After a life of heroic endeavor, disappointment, slavery, and poverty, the author of "Don Quixote" gave the world a serious work which caused to be laughed off the world's stage forever the final vestiges of decadent chivalry. The institution had long been outgrown, but its vernacular continued to be the speech and to express the thought "of the world and among the vulgar," as the quaint, old novelist puts it, just as to-day the novel intended for the consumption of the unenlightened must deal with peers and millionaires and be dressed in stilted language. Marvellously he succeeded, but in a way he least intended. We have not yet, after so many years, determined whether it is a work to laugh or cry over. "It is our joyfullest modern book," says Carlyle, while Landor thinks that "readers who see nothing more than a burlesque in 'Don Quixote' have but shallow appreciation of the work." Shaw in like manner comes upon the scene when many of our social usages are outworn. He sees the fact, announces it, and we burst into guffaws. The continuous laughter which greets Shaw's plays arises from a real contrast in the point of view of the dramatist and his audiences. When Pinero or Jones describes a whimsical situation we never doubt for a moment that the author's point of view is our own and that the abnormal predicament of his characters appeals to him in the same light as to his audience. With Shaw this sense of community of feeling is wholly lacking. He describes things as he sees them, and the house is in a roar. Who is right If we were really using our own senses and not gazing through the glasses of convention and romance and make-believe, should we see things as Shaw does Must it not cause Shaw to doubt his own or the public's sanity to hear audiences laughing boisterously over tragic situations And yet, if they did not come to laugh, they would not come at all. Mockery is the price he must pay for a hearing. Or has he calculated to a nicety the power of reaction Does he seek to drive us to aspiration by the portrayal of sordidness, to disinterestedness by the picture of selfishness, to illusion by disillusionment It is impossible to believe that he is unconscious of the humor of his dramatic situations, yet he stoically gives no sign. He even dares the charge, terrible in proportion to its truth, which the most serious of us shrinks from—the lack of a sense of humor. Men would rather have their integrity impugned. In "Arms and the Man" the subject which occupies the dramatist's attention is that survival of barbarity—militarism—which raises its horrid head from time to time to cast a doubt on the reality of our civilization. No more hoary superstition survives than that the donning of a uniform changes the nature of the wearer. This

BOW-WOW AND MEW-MEW is one of the few books for beginners in reading that may be classed as literature. Written in words of mostly one syllable, it has a story to tell, which is related in so attractive a manner as to immediately win the favor of young children. It teaches English and English literature to the child in the natural way: through a love for the reading matter. It is the character of story that will, in the not distant future, replace the ordinary primer or reader with detached sentences, and which seldom possesses any relation to literature.The ultimate objects of any story can only be effected through the love for a story. The prominent point in this story is development of good character, which may well be regarded as the highest purpose of education. The transformation from bad to good traits in the dog and cat cannot but have a desirable effect on every child that reads the story. Bow-Wow and Mew-Mew become dissatisfied with their home and their surroundings, and ungrateful toward their benefactress. As the story tells, "They did not find good in any thing." But after running away and suffering hunger, neglect, and bad treatment, their characters begin to change. They naturally come to reflect their mistress's goodness. They learn the value of companionship and friendship, and the appreciation of a home. However, the ethical thoughts in the story are presented without a moral. The child really lives the scenes described. He has the emotions of the characters and feels their convictions. And this determines the worth of a story as an agent in character development.The narrative furnishes, further, the proper kind of exercise for the imagination. It affords abundant opportunity for the play of the dramatic instinct in the child, and effects a happy union of the "home world" and the "school world." The illustrations, drawn by Miss Hodge, have been planned and executed with considerable care.

A mérf?ldk?nek számító Sons of Anarchy - Kemény motorosok cím? televíziós sorozat negyedik évadja után játszódó t?rténetét Kurt Sutter, a széria vezet? producere találta ki. A klubtagság fele éppenhogy csak kiszabadult a Stockton állami b?rt?nb?l, de a Galindo drogkartell máris a nyakukban liheg, így nem unatkoznak a motorosok. Jax Teller, a SAMCRO aleln?ke mégis kénytelen egy másik problémával foglalkozni, amikor megtudja, hogy ír féltestvére, Trinity már hónapok óta az Egyesült ?llamokban tartózkodik - és az orosz Bratva-gengszterekkel lóg. Most azonban elt?nt, és Jax biztos abban, hogy ehhez az életét fenyeget? maffiaháborúnak van k?ze. Jax, Chibs és Opie társaságában Nevadába utazik, hogy megkeresse, és hazavigye. Trinity ugyan félig ír, félig viszont Teller, és ahol a Tellerek megjelennek, ott k? k?v?n nem marad. ?A Maffiózók óta nem uralta így a tévéképerny?t egy csapat izzadt, er?szakos vadállat...” - Rolling Stone. ?Els? osztályú... A mai napig az egyik legjobb tévésorozat.” - Newsday. ?Az egyik legjobb dráma a tévében.” - Time. ??t csillagból négy... A Sons csúcsra járatja a drámát.” - New York Daily News.?

The Discovery of the Future is a philosophical lecture by H. G. Wells that argues for the knowability of the future. It was originally delivered to the Royal Institution on January 24, 1902. Before appearing in book form. Wells begins by distinguishing between “two divergent types of mind,” one that judges and attaches importance principally to what has happened in the past and one that judges and attaches importance principally to what will happen in the future. To the former he attributes the adjectives “legal or submissive,” “passive,” and “oriental,” and to the latter the adjectives “legislative, creative, organizing, or masterful,” and “active,” calling it “a more modern and much less abundant type of mind.” ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?*** It will lead into my subject most conveniently to contrast and separate two divergent types of mind, types which are to be distinguished chiefly by their attitude toward time, and more particularly by the relative importance they attach and the relative amount of thought they give to the future. The first of these two types of mind, and it is, I think, the predominant type, the type of the majority of living people, is that which seems scarcely to think of the future at all, which regards it as a sort of blank non-existence upon which the advancing present will presently write events. The second type, which is, I think, a more modern and much less abundant type of mind, thinks constantly and by preference of things to come, and of present things mainly in relation to the results that must arise from them. The former type of mind, when one gets it in its purity, is retrospective in habit, and it interprets the things of the present, and gives value to this and denies it to that, entirely with relation to the past. The latter type of mind is constructive in habit, it interprets the things of the present and gives value to this or that, entirely in relation to things designed or foreseen. While from that former point of view our life is simply to reap the consequences of the past, from this our life is to prepare the future. The former type one might speak of as the legal or submissive type of mind, because the business, the practice, and the training of a lawyer dispose him toward it; he of all men must constantly refer to the law made, the right established, the precedent set, and consistently ignore or condemn the thing that is only seeking to establish itself. The latter type of mind I might for contrast call the legislative, creative, organizing, or masterful type, because it is perpetually attacking and altering the established order of things, perpetually falling away from respect for what the past has given us. It sees the world as one great workshop, and the present is no more than material for the future, for the thing that is yet destined to be. It is in the active mood of thought, while the former is in the passive; it is the mind of youth, it is the mind more manifest among the western nations, while the former is the mind of age, the mind of the oriental. Things have been, says the legal mind, and so we are here. The creative mind says we are here because things have yet to be. Now I do not wish to suggest that the great mass of people belong to either of these two types. Indeed, I speak of them as two distinct and distinguishable types mainly for convenience and in order to accentuate their distinction. There are probably very few people who brood constantly upon the past without any thought of the future at all, and there are probably scarcely any who live and think consistently in relation to the future. The great mass of people occupy an intermediate position between these extremes, they pass daily and hourly from the passive mood to the active, they see this thing in relation to its associations and that thing in relation to its consequences, and they do not even suspect that they are using two distinct methods in their minds.

Soman Chainani els? regénye, a New York Times bestseller Jók és Rosszak Iskolája folytatásában Sophie és Agatha visszatér Gavaldonba, és boldogan élnek saját világukban, ám az élet nem olyan tündérmese, amilyennek képzelték… Agatha már úgy érzi, bárcsak más boldog befejezést kívánt volna a mesének, ám ekkor véletlenül megtalálja és kinyitja a Jók és Rosszak Iskolájának kapuját. A lányok azzal szembesülnek, hogy az a világ, amit az els? tanévben tapasztaltak, megváltozott. A boszorkányok és a hercegn?k a Lányok Iskolájában laknak. Elhatározták, hogy kirekesztik életükb?l a hercegeket. Tedros és a fiúk a Rossz Iskolája régi tornyainak lakói lettek. A két iskola k?z?tt háború van kit?r?ben. Vajon Agatha és Sophie helyre tudják állítani a békét? Vajon Sophie jó tud maradni úgy, hogy Tedros állandóan üld?zi? ?s kihez húz Agatha szíve? A barátn?jéhez vagy a hercegéhez? Soman Chainani kül?nleges világot teremtett. A Newbery-díj legutóbbi jutalmazottja, Ann M. Martin ?páratlan mesének” nevezi, amely ?csupa romantika, varázslat, humor és rejtvény. Legszívesebben egyhuzamban olvasnánk végig.”

The stories were written when Irish nationalism was at its peak, and a search for a national identity and purpose was raging; at a crossroads of history and culture, Ireland was jolted by various converging ideas and influences. They centre on Joyce's idea of an epiphany: a moment where a character experiences self-understanding or illumination. Many of the characters in Dubliners later appear in minor roles in Joyce's novel Ulysses. The initial stories in the collection are narrated by child protagonists, and as the stories continue, they deal with the lives and concerns of progressively older people. This is in line with Joyce's tripartite division of the collection into childhood, adolescence and maturity. THERE was no hope for him this time: it was the third stroke. Night after night I had passed the house (it was vacation time) and studied the lighted square of window: and night after night I had found it lighted in the same way, faintly and evenly. If he was dead, I thought, I would see the reflection of candles on the darkened blind for I knew that two candles must be set at the head of a corpse. He had often said to me: "I am not long for this world," and I had thought his words idle. Now I knew they were true. Every night as I gazed up at the window I said softly to myself the word paralysis. It had always sounded strangely in my ears, like the word gnomon in the Euclid and the word simony in the Catechism. But now it sounded to me like the name of some maleficent and sinful being. It filled me with fear, and yet I longed to be nearer to it and to look upon its deadly work.Old Cotter was sitting at the fire, smoking, when I came downstairs to supper. While my aunt was ladling out my stirabout he said, as if returning to some former remark of his: "No, I wouldn't say he was exactly... but there was something queer... there was something uncanny about him. I'll tell you my opinion...." He began to puff at his pipe, no doubt arranging his opinion in his mind. Tiresome old fool! When we knew him first he used to be rather interesting, talking of faints and worms; but I soon grew tired of him and his endless stories about the distillery. "I have my own theory about it," he said. "I think it was one of those... peculiar cases.... But it's hard to say...." He began to puff again at his pipe without giving us his theory. My uncle saw me staring and said to me:"Well, so your old friend is gone, you'll be sorry to hear." "Who?" said I."Father Flynn.""Is he dead?" ? ABOUT AUTHOR: ? James Augustine Aloysius Joyce (1882 – 1941) was an Irish novelist and poet, considered to be one of the most influential writers in the modernist avant-garde of the early 20th century. Joyce is best known for Ulysses (1922), a landmark work in which the episodes of Homer's Odyssey are paralleled in an array of contrasting literary styles, perhaps most prominent among these the stream of consciousness technique he perfected. Other major works are the short-story collection Dubliners (1914), and the novels A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (1916) and Finnegans Wake (1939). His complete oeuvre also includes three books of poetry, a play, occasional journalism, and his published letters.

36 тижн?в у списку бестселер?в The New York Times! Евел?н пережива? глибоку особисту кризу. Вона знайомиться з? старенькою Н?нн?, яка, попри важку долю, не втрача? жаги до життя. Н?нн? розпов?да? Евел?н ?стор?? ?хнього м?стечка: про д?вчину, яка п?сля загибел? брата знаходить сили жити дал?; про розбите серце красун? Рут; про мандр?вного роб?тника, який закохався в Рут; про безроб?тних, яких у кафе ?Зупинка? годували безкоштовно... Ц? ?стор?? мають таку силу, що зм?нюють на краще життя тих, хто ?х чита?. 36 tizhn?v u spisku bestseler?v The New York Times! Evel?n perezhiva? gliboku osobistu krizu. Vona znajomit'sja z? staren'koju N?nn?, jaka, popri vazhku dolju, ne vtracha? zhagi do zhittja. N?nn? rozpov?da? Evel?n ?stor?? ?hn'ogo m?stechka: pro d?vchinu, jaka p?slja zagibel? brata znahodit' sili zhiti dal?; pro rozbite serce krasun? Rut; pro mandr?vnogo rob?tnika, jakij zakohavsja v Rut; pro bezrob?tnih, jakih u kafe ?Zupinka? goduvali bezkoshtovno... C? ?stor?? majut' taku silu, shho zm?njujut' na krashhe zhittja tih, hto ?h chita?.

Minden bonyodalom azzal kezd?dik, hogy Ríviai Geralt kardjainak rejtélyes módon lába kél. Ezt k?veti egy démonidéz? rejtélye, egy furcsa hajóút és egy meglehet?sen fordulatos királyi esküv?. A régi barát, K?k?rcsin szokás szerint most is Geralt ?segítségére siet”, akár akarja a vaják, akár nem. Felbukkan egy varázslón? is, aki megpróbálja irányítani Geraltot, szokás szerint. ?s ismét akadnak olyanok, akik a vaják útjába állnak, szokás szerint. Ez a k?tet Sapkowski utolsó regénye a Vaják-világban, és a sagához csak k?nny? szállal kapcsolódik, de a szerz? nem okoz csalódást: ismét egyszerre szembesülünk népek sorsával és az egyes ember drámájával, de mindezt ismét olyan gazdag képzeletvilággal ?tv?zve és olyan humorral tálalva, ami letehetetlenné teszi a k?tetet. Szokás szerint.

Andersena pasakas: ?Lakstīgala”, ?Sliktais princis”, ?Rū?ītis”. Trīs brīni??īgas, visiem zināmas un lasītāju iecienītas pasakas vienā grāmati?ā. ?Lakstīgala” - tā ir skaista pasaka par necilu putni?u, kas dzīvoja kāda ?īnas ?eizara dārzā. Lakstīgalas burvīgās dziesmas spēja sagādāt ne tikai prieku, bet arī dziedināja slimo ?eizaru. ?? ?Sliktais princis” – ?ī pasaka vēstī par cietsirdīgu un ne?ēlīgu valdnieku, kur? nolēma gūt varu pār visu pasauli, pastāvīgi karojot. ?Rū?ītis” – tas ir stāsts par elfu, kur? pārticībā dzīvoja bagāta tirgotāja mājā un kuru sajūsmināja nabadzīga studenta, grāmatu un dzejas cienītāja, pasaule. ? Andersena pasakas ir burvju stāsti, kuros apslēptas svarīgas patiesības un morāles vērtības. Tās iepriecina mūsdienu bērnus tāpat kā pirms gadiem vi?u vecākus un vecvecākus.? Katra pasaka ir veidota ar skaistām un krāsainām ilustrācijām.

Miután John és Brooke magára maradt, városról városra stoppolva vadásznak Amerika k?zép-nyugati részén a még megmaradt utolsó Sorvadtakra. Csakhogy a Sorvadtak is vadásznak rájuk, ráadásul az FBI is a nyomukban van. Minden újabb várossal, minden újabb kamionos pihen?vel, minden újabb autópályával egyre k?zelebb kerülnek egy olyan kegyetlen gyilkoshoz, akire John semmilyen jól bejáratott analitikus és el?rejelz? módszere nem alkalmazható. K?zben Brooke meghasadt pszichéje az elméjén osztozó t?bb százezer halott személyiségt?l túlterhelve tántorog az ?sszeomlás peremén. Hol birtokában van szellemi képességeinek, hol nem, és minden nap új nevek, gondolatok és emlékek t?rnek felszínre benne, mígnem felbukkan az a személyiség, akire John végképp nem számított: Senki utolsó áldozata, csapdába esve John egyetlen megmaradt barátjának testében.

A New York Times bestseller Hollóárnyék-trilógia Magyarországon is nagy sikert elért szerz?jének új sorozata! TARTALOM: Véráldottak – olyan férfiak és n?k, akik a vad sárkányok véréb?l készült elixírek elfogyasztásával mérhetetlen er?knek parancsolnak. A Vashajó Szindikátust a véráldottak hatalma tette naggyá. Most azonban pusztító vihar k?zeleg: a sárkányok vérvonala gyengül?ben, a felemelked? Korvantin Birodalom pedig ugrásra készen várja a pillanatot, hogy kihasználhassa a Szindikátus gyengeségét. Ráadásul a vadonban is mozgolódás támad: a sárkányok támadásai egyre gyakoribbá válnak – és ami még ennél is rosszabb, szervezettnek t?nnek. Az utolsó reménysugár nem más, mint egy mitikus sárkány, amelynek nagyerej? vére valódi csodákra képes – ha egyáltalán létezik ez a rejtélyes lény. A sors végül három h?st választ ki magának. Claydon Tocreekre, a lajstromozatlan véráldottra és kisstíl? tolvajra hárul a feladat, hogy az ismeretlen vadonban felkutassa a legendás sárkányt, aminek a létezésében még csak nem is hisz. Lizanne Lethridge, a Szindikátus félelmetes erej?, ifjú elit kéme hirtelen találja magát ellenséges terepen, küldetése egyre veszedelmesebb helyzetekbe sodorja. Corrick Hilemore, az ismert világ peremén cirkáló kalózvadász Vashajó parancsnokhelyettese k?nnyen lehet, hogy túl nagy fába vágta a fejszéjét, amikor a k?ny?rtelen rablók nyomába eredt – és helyettük egy jóval komolyabb ellenséggel kerül szembe. Ahogy a birodalmak egymásnak feszülnek, mindhármuknak harcolni kell azért, amiben hisznek, ha nem akarják, hogy a világot elnyelje az ébred? t?z.

Mit ér az emlékezés, ha senki nem kíváncsi arra, ami elmúlt? B?n-e a hallgatás, ha védeni akarjuk szeretteinket a múlt sz?rny?ségeit?l? Mit tehetünk, ha a t?rténelem megismételni látszik ?nmagát?? Egy újságíró és egy sokat megélt nyolcvannégy éves h?lgy találkozása régi sebeket tép fel. Mélyen eltemetett emlékek kerülnek felszínre: A remény és a hit a kegyetlenséggel szemben, emberek az embertelenségben, és üzleti érdekek, melyek a pokol káoszát irányítják. Mi k?ti ?ssze egy kislány, egy náci tiszt, egy szovjet ezredes és egy m?fordító sorsát hetven év távlatából? ?Ez a t?rténet...

45.538 de cuvinte. At?tea stau str?nse ?n cartea asta. A?a ?mi indic? un contor al softului ?n care am editat textul. Ceea ce ?nseamn? c? ?n aceast? prezentare a ei, a c?r?ii, trebuie s? m? comport ca un gospodar care ar ?ncerca s? hr?neasc? toat? p?s?rimea satului cu o singur? m?n? de gr?un?e. N-am cum. ?i nici n-a? vorbi despre ea a?a cum o facem despre copiii no?tri, care sunt mereu ?i mai de?tep?i, mai frumo?i sau m?car mai ?nal?i dec?t ai altora. ?n momentul ?sta, tot programul de editare m? salveaz?. Observ c? are posibilitatea de a rezuma textul meu ?n numai zece sentin?e: De riduri. De paradigm?. Nu de om, ci de m?gar [...] De necur??ie. De ?coal?. De efeminat. De care uitasem. De munc?. De butie. De p?reri. ?mi dau seama ?ns? c? posibilul cititor interesat, ori librarul care ar dori s? v?nd? cartea, nu are cum s? ?n?eleag? prea multe din asta. Nu pricep nici eu de unde apeten?a programului pentru prepozi?ia de. Sunt singur ?n cas?, nimeni nu-?i poate da cu p?rerea despre volumul ?sta, editorii m? sun? rug?nd s? le trimit acest sinopsis. ?n clipa aia, Cimbru, c?inele meu, cel care m? ?n?elege mereu at?t de bine, ??i f?lf?ie coada pe l?ng? cracii pantalonilor mei. ?i pun manuscrisul ?n fa?? ?i-l rog s? m? ajute cumva. ?l miroase curios, de dou?, trei ori, p?n? ??i d? seama c? nu-i bun de m?ncat. E clar, cartea asta nu este bun? de m?ncat! Poate o fi bun? la altceva. Nu ?tiu, m?car ca palet? de ping-pong.