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Throughout many years, Dr. John H. Watson accompanied his friend and companion Sherlock Holmes in solving countless mysteries and crimes. Beginning in the 1880s and into the 20th century, Holmes consistently held his status as the world's most brilliant and successful detective. The New Adventures brings to the public for the very first time some of Watson's accounts of Sherlock Holmes cases previously kept under lock and key.

Throughout many years, Dr. John H. Watson accompanied his friend and companion Sherlock Holmes in solving countless mysteries and crimes. Holmes consistently held his status as the world's most brilliant and successful detective. The New Adventures brings to the public for the very first time some of Watson's accounts of Sherlock Holmes cases previously kept under lock and key.

"Mirror Dead" is a thoroughly contemporary novel which demonstrates the rude health of the ghost story at the beginning of the twenty-first century. When Simon falls for fairytale-obsessed Rose, he sees a chance to move on from his girlfriend's death the year before. But can he trust Gray, the cross-dressing ghost of his twin brother, who shares his body and sees Rose as lunch? They set out to infiltrate her life, but soon find that they have bitten off more than either of them can chew. Rose has thorns. Her psycho ex is one of them.

Clarinda stared open mouthed at the squat little creature, its amber eyes gleaming in the afternoon sun, its moist, warty skin taut over the rubbery flesh beneath.

All through August Abigail looked out for the ship, counting the masts on each vessel and reading their names before they reached the harbour.

The Robinsons arrived late in the evening; he in black tie and she in a long cocktail dress of sheer red silk. Neither Rachel nor Clive could remember inviting them, but they hoped the couple might enliven what was threatening to become a rather dull event.

The pub is empty except for a couple - man and wife, judging by her wedding ring - sitting in silence by the fire. Her back is to me; the corners of his mouth turn down. I'm pretty sure they're the ones I'm looking for.

When an unidentified "monster" threatens international shipping, French oceanographer Pierre Aronnax and his unflappable assistant Conseil join an expedition organized by the US Navy to hunt down and destroy the menace. After months of fruitless searching, they finally grapple with their quarry, but Aronnax, Conseil, and the brash Canadian harpooner Ned Land are thrown overboard in the attack, only to find that the "monster" is actually a futuristic submarine, the Nautilus, commanded by a shadowy, mystical, preternaturally imposing man who calls himself Captain Nemo.

It was nearly midday when, bleary-eyed, Paula struggled up the last few metres of the slope. Lawrence's leaving party had drifted into the early hours, even though it was the middle of the working week, and in the morning, when he kissed her goodbye and got into the taxi, she had felt the first surge of panic.

Thuvia, Maid of Mars is a science fantasy novel by American writer Edgar Rice Burroughs, the fourth of the Barsoom series. The principal characters are Carthoris (the son of John Carter of Mars) and Thuvia of Ptarth, each of whom appeared in the previous two novels.

It's unlikely you'll read this as it's hidden on my computer, saved under 'lists'. If it comes to light it will hurt you, Lars, and I'm sorry for that.

There are four of them - George, Harris, the writer himself and that dog, Montmorency - all participants in a boating expedition on the Thames. The difficulties and vicissitudes heaped upon these innocents develop to epic proportions as they experience the hazards of the great English waterway. Their problems are in no way diminished by the outrageous behaviour of Montmorency, who lays waste several riverside communities in the course of their journey.

Penny's survey of Luscombe Manor, a honey-toned, seventeenth-century house with Victorian additions, was taking much longer than she'd anticipated. The owner, Percy Davington, didn't seem to mind, however, and, going into the warm kitchen to eat her packed lunches, she often found him waiting for her with a glass of good dry sherry.

War and Peace is a literary work mixed with chapters on history and philosophy by the Russian author Leo Tolstoy. It was first published serially, then published in its entirety in 1869. First Epilogue: 1813-20: Seven years had passed. The storm-tossed sea of European history had subsided within its shores and seemed to have become calm. But the mysterious forces that move humanity (mysterious because the laws of their motion are unknown to us) continued to operate.

War and Peace is a literary work mixed with chapters on history and philosophy by the Russian author Leo Tolstoy. Second Epilogue: History is the life of nations and of humanity. To seize and put into words, to describe directly the life of humanity or even of a single nation, appears impossible. The ancient historians all employed one and the same method to describe and seize the apparently elusive the life of a people. They described the activity of individuals who ruled the people, and regarded the activity of those men as representing the activity of the whole nation.

What is it about dealers in rare books and manuscripts? One would have to go a long way to meet one who was not a little strange, and Enoch Stapleton was no exception to the rule.

There was a time before the Great War when Petropol was the most fashionable resort in the Crimea. If you arrived by steamer, you would have disembarked onto a stone jetty that extended a long grey arm into the oily smooth waters of the Black Sea.

I knew Lord Charles Purefoy in the 1970s, but then so did everyone. I had also known him in the 1960s when we were at school together, and in the same house.

As soon as Simone set foot on the path through the heather, her spirits began to rise. The red grouse were nesting, but the cries of curlew and lapwing, and the piping of meadow pipits and the trilling of skylarks punctuated the perfect stillness.

Three weeks after I had arrived in Nairobi in January 1976 my father wrote to me. I took it to be a sign that he was reconciled to the fact that his only son had decided to join a theatre company in what he called 'the back of beyond'.