In the most ambitious and exciting X-Files adventure to date, Mulder and Scully fly to the Yucatan jungle to investigate a missing team of archaelogists. Their exploration leads to a strange electronic signal coming from beneath ancient ruins -- a signal aimed upward, at the stars....
Widow Kate Blakely knew nothing of love--but she knew plenty about unhappiness. She'd married young, hoping to put down roots in a safe haven, but her husband had shattered her naivete and made her fear for her beloved daughter's safety until the day he died. When she first met her new neighbor, Zachariah McGovern, all she saw was danger. But Zach saw much more. He saw beauty and tenderness. He knew he could rescue Kate from her past--if only she would let him. What Zach couldn't know, however, was the price that had to be paid to save the woman he loved...
When Jonathan Harker goes to Transylvania to visit Count Dracula on business, he discovers that his client's motives for coming to England are rather more sinister than they first appeared.
The Coming of Hoole (Guardians of Ga'hoole, Book 10)
Added by: KundAlini | Karma: 1594.10 | Fiction literature | 25 January 2011
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The Coming of Hoole (Guardians of Ga'hoole, Book 10)
By Kathryn Lasky
Grank raises the hatchling deep in a forest far from owls that would kill the royal chick named Hoole to end the kingly line. His mother comes to visit, in disguise, and departs again. Not even the chick must know his mother's identity. It would give him away as Hrath's heir. Sent by an evil warlord, a hagsfiend attempts to lure young Hoole away when he first learns to fly. Grank realizes that the same evil forces that killed Hrath are after Hoole, and know where he is. To keep him safe, Grank brings him to Beyond the Beyond, a strange land of fiery volcanoes in a barren, icy landscape
How does one know coming good from coming ill? There are those times in life when one welcomes any change, believing that nothing can be such ashes in the mouth, such dryness of days as the never altering flood of time in a small community where the outside world lies ever beyond the gates locked and barred against all change. From the bell tower of Abbey Norstead – and how many years had sped since a bell had pealed from there? – one could see the unending rippling of the Dales, on and on to the blue-gray of Fast Ridge.
