Résultats de "David Coward - translator" dans Toutes les catégories

La Reine Margot is a novel of suspense and drama which recreates the violent world of intrigue, murder, and duplicity of the French Renaissance. Dumas fills his canvas with a gallery of unforgettable characters, unremitting action, and the engaging generosity of spirit which has made him one of the world’s greatest and best-loved storytellers.

Georges Simenon's tragic tale of lost identity, translated by David Coward as part of the new Penguin Maigret series. What was the woman doing here? In a stable, wearing pearl earrings, her stylish bracelet and white buckskin shoes! She must have been alive when she got there because the crime had been committed after 10 in the evening. But how? And why? And no one had heard a thing! She had not screamed. The two carters had not woken up.

In this thrilling adventure tale, three men embark on an epic journey under the sea with the mysterious Captain Nemo aboard his submarine, the Nautilus. Over the course of their fantastical voyage, they encounter the lost city of Atlantis, the South Pole and the corals of the Red Sea, and must battle countless adversaries, both human and monstrous.

Sailors don't talk much to other men, especially not to policemen. But after Captain Fallut's body is found floating near his trawler, they all mention the Evil Eye when they speak of the Ocean's voyage.

Imperious, clever, mysterious: Maigret meets his match in the alluring form of Félicie in book 25 of the new Penguin Maigret series. In his mind's eye he would see that slim figure in the striking clothes, those wide eyes the colour of forget-me-not, the pert nose and especially the hat, that giddy crimson bonnet perched on the top of her head with a bronze-green feather shaped like a blade stuck in it.... Félicie had given him more trouble than all the 'hard' men who had been put behind bars.

Maigret dismantles an intricate network of lies stretching from Paris to Nice. Mechanically, he had put his pince-nez down on the blotter and looked at it there with his large, short-sighted eyes. It is at that moment that the strange thing happens. One of the lenses, acting as a mirror, reflected the criss-cross, hatched ink marks which had dried on the blotter, and he could just make out a couple of words.