Résultats lu par "Peter Silverleaf" dans Toutes les catégories

On September 15, 1894, an anarchist attempted to bomb the Greenwich Observatory. He failed, but the attempt led Sherlock Holmes into an intricate web of spies, foreign naval officers, and a beautiful princess. Once again, suspicion landed on poor Percy Phelps, now working in a senior position in the Admiralty, and once again Holmes has to use both his powers of deduction and raw courage to not only rescue Percy, but to prevent an unspeakable disaster.

What happened after Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson pardoned Captain Jack Croker for killing Sir Eustace at the Abbey Grange. Have you imagined that he sailed the seven seas for a year and then returned to his beautiful, beloved Mary Fraser? That didn't happen. A year later, murder, treachery, and international intrigue descended on Abbey Grange and, once again, Sherlock Holmes was called upon to bring criminals to justice and assist in the course of true love.

The deadly final encounter between Professor Moriarty and Sherlock Holmes took place at Reichenbach Falls on 4 May 1891. But when was their first encounter? When did Holmes first come to know that there was a evil genius behind a massive web of crime? This new story answers that question. What began with nothing more than a stolen Gladstone bag on wheels quickly escalates into murder and more. And if Holmes and Watson do not move fast enough, it could become much worse. This new story is a tribute -- a 'prequal' -- to the Canonical story of The Final Problem.

Colonel James Barclay needs the help of Sherlock Holmes. His exceptionally beautiful, but much younger, wife has disappeared and foul play is suspected. Has she been kidnapped and held for ransom? Or is she in the clutches of a deviant monster? Are thousands of pounds at risk? Are the household staff in on it? Will Holmes find her in time, and if he does, what then? The story is a tribute not only to the original mystery, The Crooked Man, but also to the biblical story of King David and Bathsheba.

In 1909 the entire world of dance changed forever when Les Ballets Russes, under the brilliant impresario, Serge Diaghilev, departed St. Petersburg and opened in Paris. They also made annual visits to the West End in London. Tragically, during their 1913 tour, two of their dancers are found murdered. Sherlock Holmes is brought into to find the murderer and prevent any more killings. The story adheres fairly closely to the incredible story of the reappearance of classical ballet in Western Europe and the introduction of modern interpretive dance.

Jules Verne is considered to be an important author in France and most of Europe, where he has had a wide influence on the literary avant-garde and on surrealism. VOLUME 1: The year 1866 was signalised by a remarkable incident, a mysterious and puzzling phenomenon, which doubtless no one has yet forgotten. Not to mention rumours which agitated the maritime population and excited the public mind, even in the interior of continents, seafaring men were particularly excited.

On the night of April 12, 1912, off the coast of Newfoundland, one of the greatest disasters of all time took place - the Unsinkable Titanic struck an iceberg and sank with a horrendous loss of life. On board that ship was Sherlock Holmes's friend, Victor Trentacost - his only friend other than Doctor Watson. The news of the disaster leads Holmes and Watson to reminisce about one of their earliest adventures, now over thirty years ago when the two of them and Victor went to sea. It began as a sailing race and ended as a tale of murder, kidnapping, piracy, and survival through a tempest.

The past doesn't always stay where it should. It is as though somebody, or something, is forever trying to bring it painfully into the present. Flavian Bennett is trying to leave his past behind when he goes to work in his father's bookshop in Paris. But a curious customer, Reginald Hopper, is desperate to resurrect his own murky origins. Hopper believes that a rare and mysterious book, The Dark Return of Time, may be the key to what happened before he arrived in Paris. In this quiet thriller by R.B. Russell, the futures - and pasts - of these two men will soon cross.

'I think we can all agree,' said Professor Drew, 'that the Giacometti Crucifixion is one of the great masterpieces of modern art - did you say something Dr Corcoran?'

Against a black backdrop strewn with stars the silver figure in a long, floating dress sang and swirled, the little silk-shod feet mirrored in the polished black floor. Her voice trilled and swooped like an upper-class nightingale, with those odd strangulated vowels so alien to us today.

I made quite an exhibition of myself. I'm usually so shy I fade into the background, take my place at the end of the queue, stand in the corner of the room watching what other people do. It's not that I fear the lime-light, but I try to avoid being vulgar or pushy.

Clive was right to suspect there would be trouble when he set up his computer consultancy. Just as he began his publicity campaign, the local newspaper ran an article about him.

I have been looking forward to being here so much and now it hardly seems real. The view from my bedroom window is of fields and sheep and a hill that is almost a mountain. It is very much like the landscape we dreamed of when we first watched the Series, only on TV the fields are framed by the screen. Here they seem to flow on for ever.

Selena lived on the other side of town, several miles away from Karl's house. Karl had not seen her for some days, and, however many times he rang, she was not answering her phone. Since his driving ban came into force he had been unable to take her out into the countryside and to pubs on the trips that had formed much of their romantic life.

The wind-whipped grass rippled in the field. Spring had come early, the sunshine and showers producing a tall, healthy crop. Tomorrow, all this luscious ripeness was to be mown and gathered, stored and fed over the coming year to the captive cows in their perpetually lit sheds. It would be the first cut of the season.

The incoming tide nudged gently at the line of seaweed and broken shells. Her eyes were on the horizon, her bare toes dug into the sand.

I've seen you with the others, your little machine capturing their words, and now, it seems, you have come to me. They say you're a professor and must, therefore, despite your youth, be wise, so I suppose I should do my best to lay aside my misgivings and put my trust in you.

Finding a suitable father for your babies is a haphazard business; there are usually several false starts before you fall in love, move in, get married. If you're lucky, children follow swiftly. Then, without warning, you discover that your husband has done something that hurts you to the quick, destroys your spirit, sears your soul.

She assessed the damage. The coffee-stained duvet, charred by cigarette burns, was stuffed in the wardrobe. Ranged around the rubbish bin were several empty beer bottles lying on their sides. Unrinsed mugs and glasses stood everywhere and damp towels had been dumped on the couch.

I've laid down my plastic under-sheet but it doesn't stop the chill from leaching through my sleeping bag. At least it's sheltered here, the doorway set back from the pavement. My hat gapes on the ground, but the punters are in too much of a hurry to get home to stop and fish out their change.