Author: Khushabu Gupta
Publisher: Subrat Gupta
ISBN:
Category : Juvenile Fiction
Languages : en
Pages : 35
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Book Description
Leo's Night Adventure: A Magical Journey of Curiosity, Friendship, and Courage Step into the enchanting world of Leo's Night Adventure, where the night holds secrets, magic, and wonder! Follow Leo, a curious and brave young boy, as he embarks on an unforgettable adventure that begins with a mysterious glow deep in the forest. As shadows grow and stars twinkle, Leo encounters whimsical creatures, solves ancient puzzles, and uncovers the true power of friendship and courage. This captivating tale takes readers, young and old, through a world filled with imagination, discovery, and adventure. From talking trees to mystical lakes, Leo's journey reveals the beauty hidden in the night and teaches valuable life lessons about bravery, curiosity, and the magic of exploring the unknown. Perfect for readers who love fantasy and adventure, Leo's Night Adventure is a heartwarming story that reminds us all of the importance of staying curious and daring to step into the unknown.
Author: Leo Carew
Publisher:
ISBN: 9780316521352
Category : FICTION
Languages : en
Pages : 400
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Book Description
Violence and death come to the land under the Northern Sky when two fierce races break their age-old fragile peace and start an all-out war in this thrilling and savagely visceral epic fantasy. Beyond the Black River, among the forests and mountains of the north, lives an ancient race of people. Their lives are measured in centuries, not decades; they revel in wilderness and resilience, and they scorn wealth and comfort. By contrast, those in the south live in the moment, their lives more fleeting. They crave wealth and power; their ambition is limitless, and their cunning unmatched. When the armies of the south flood across the Black river, the fragile peace between the two races is shattered. On a lightning-struck battlefield, the two sides will fight - for their people, for their land, for their very survival. Under the Northern SkyThe Wolf.
Author: Leo Carew
Publisher: Orbit
ISBN: 0316521388
Category : Fiction
Languages : en
Pages : 493
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Book Description
Control of the land under the Northern Sky rests in the balance as two fierce races collide in the sequel to The Wolf, a thrilling and savagely visceral epic fantasy from Leo Carew, an author who "will remind readers of George R. R. Martin, David Gemmell, or . . . Joe Abercrombie." (Booklist) Roper, the Black Lord of the north, may have vanquished the Suthern army at the Battle of Harstathur. But the greatest threat to his people lies in the hands of more shadowy forces. In the south, the disgraced Bellamus bides his time. Learning that the young Lord Roper is planning to invade the southern lands, Bellamus conspires with his Queen to unleash a weapon so deadly it could wipe out Roper's kind altogether. And at a time when Roper needs his friends more than ever, treachery from within puts the lives of those he loves in mortal danger . . . For more from Leo Carew, check out: Under the Northern SkyThe WolfThe Spider
Author: Helen Docherty
Publisher: Sourcebooks, Inc.
ISBN: 1492638153
Category : Juvenile Fiction
Languages : en
Pages : 35
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Book Description
Age Level: 4 to 8 | Grade Level: K to 4 What's a knight's greatest power? Stories, of course! From the beloved author/illustrator team behind The Snatchabook comes the ultimate storytime book about castles, knights, dragons, and the power of stories! Even dragons love a good story... Leo was a gentle knight in thought and word and deed. While other knights liked fighting, Leo liked to sit and read... When Leo's mom and dad pack him off to fight a dragon, he takes a shield, a sword—and a pile of his favorite books. But can a story be as mighty as a sword? This delightful rhyming story about books and the joy of reading is also perfect for kids who love dragon books, adventures, brave knights, and books about castles! An Autumn 2016 Kids Indie Next Pick A 2017-2018 SSYRA Jr. List Title Praise for The Snatchabook: #1 Indie Next Pick "I dare you to try to read The Snatch-a-book silently to yourself. You can't do it. The book is so wonderful it demands to be read out loud. And besides, if you didn't read the book out loud, how would the Snatch-a-book hear it?"—Caldecott Medalist Brian Selznick "This ever-so-sweet story begs to be read out loud." —Booklist " The gorgeous illustrations are a perfect match for the lively text. This book is a fabulous fit for both storytime and one-on-one reading. Children will be begging for this book to be read to them every night–clever ones will claim they want to keep the Snatchabook happy." —School Library Journal "The husband-and-wife team of the Dochertys have a winner in this heartwarming tribute to the essential role of bedtime reading in the lives of families." —Publishers Weekly "The story is sweet and the illustrations darling." —Kirkus "This whodunit with an uplifting ending will appeal to fans of How the Grinch Stole Christmas! . . . [it] celebrates bedtime reading as a ritual to be revered, and features a thief who merely wants to share in the fun." —Shelf Awareness Pro
Author: H. Rider Haggard
Publisher: BEYOND BOOKS HUB
ISBN:
Category : Fiction
Languages : en
Pages : 298
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Book Description
In giving to the world the record of what, looked at as an adventure only, is I suppose one of the most wonderful and mysterious experiences ever undergone by mortal men, I feel it incumbent on me to explain what my exact connection with it is. And so I may as well say at once that I am not the narrator but only the editor of this extraordinary history, and then go on to tell how it found its way into my hands. Some years ago I, the editor, was stopping with a friend, “vir doctissimus et amicus meus,” at a certain University, which for the purposes of this history we will call Cambridge, and was one day much struck with the appearance of two persons whom I saw going arm-in-arm down the street. One of these gentlemen was I think, without exception, the handsomest young fellow I have ever seen. He was very tall, very broad, and had a look of power and a grace of bearing that seemed as native to him as it is to a wild stag. In addition his face was almost without flaw — a good face as well as a beautiful one, and when he lifted his hat, which he did just then to a passing lady, I saw that his head was covered with little golden curls growing close to the scalp. “Good gracious!” I said to my friend, with whom I was walking, “why, that fellow looks like a statue of Apollo come to life. What a splendid man he is!” “Yes,” he answered, “he is the handsomest man in the University, and one of the nicest too. They call him ‘the Greek god’; but look at the other one, he’s Vincey’s (that’s the god’s name) guardian, and supposed to be full of every kind of information. They call him ‘Charon.’” I looked, and found the older man quite as interesting in his way as the glorified specimen of humanity at his side. He appeared to be about forty years of age, and was I think as ugly as his companion was handsome. To begin with, he was shortish, rather bow-legged, very deep chested, and with unusually long arms. He had dark hair and small eyes, and the hair grew right down on his forehead, and his whiskers grew right up to his hair, so that there was uncommonly little of his countenance to be seen. Altogether he reminded me forcibly of a gorilla, and yet there was something very pleasing and genial about the man’s eye. I remember saying that I should like to know him. “All right,” answered my friend, “nothing easier. I know Vincey; I’ll introduce you,” and he did, and for some minutes we stood chatting — about the Zulu people, I think, for I had just returned from the Cape at the time. Presently, however, a stoutish lady, whose name I do not remember, came along the pavement, accompanied by a pretty fair-haired girl, and these two Mr. Vincey, who clearly knew them well, at once joined, walking off in their company. I remember being rather amused because of the change in the expression of the elder man, whose name I discovered was Holly, when he saw the ladies advancing. He suddenly stopped short in his talk, cast a reproachful look at his companion, and, with an abrupt nod to myself, turned and marched off alone across the street. I heard afterwards that he was popularly supposed to be as much afraid of a woman as most people are of a mad dog, which accounted for his precipitate retreat. I cannot say, however, that young Vincey showed much aversion to feminine society on this occasion. Indeed I remember laughing, and remarking to my friend at the time that he was not the sort of man whom it would be desirable to introduce to the lady one was going to marry, since it was exceedingly probable that the acquaintance would end in a transfer of her affections. He was altogether too good-looking, and, what is more, he had none of that consciousness and conceit about him which usually afflicts handsome men, and makes them deservedly disliked by their fellows. That same evening my visit came to an end, and this was the last I saw or heard of “Charon” and “the Greek god” for many a long day. Indeed, I have never seen either of them from that hour to this, and do not think it probable that I shall. But a month ago I received a letter and two packets, one of manuscript, and on opening the first found that it was signed by “Horace Holly,” a name that at the moment was not familiar to me. It ran as follows: — “ — — College, Cambridge, May 1, 18 — “My dear Sir, — You will be surprised, considering the very slight nature of our acquaintance, to get a letter from me. Indeed, I think I had better begin by reminding you that we once met, now some five years ago, when I and my ward Leo Vincey were introduced to you in the street at Cambridge. To be brief and come to my business. I have recently read with much interest a book of yours describing a Central African adventure. I take it that this book is partly true, and partly an effort of the imagination. However this may be, it has given me an idea. It happens, how you will see in the accompanying manuscript (which together with the Scarab, the ‘Royal Son of the Sun,’ and the original sherd, I am sending to you by hand), that my ward, or rather my adopted son Leo Vincey and myself have recently passed through a real African adventure, of a nature so much more marvellous than the one which you describe, that to tell the truth I am almost ashamed to submit it to you lest you should disbelieve my tale. You will see it stated in this manuscript that I, or rather we, had made up our minds not to make this history public during our joint lives. Nor should we alter our determination were it not for a circumstance which has recently arisen. We are for reasons that, after perusing this manuscript, you may be able to guess, going away again this time to Central Asia where, if anywhere upon this earth, wisdom is to be found, and we anticipate that our sojourn there will be a long one. Possibly we shall not return. Under these altered conditions it has become a question whether we are justified in withholding from the world an account of a phenomenon which we believe to be of unparalleled interest, merely because our private life is involved, or because we are afraid of ridicule and doubt being cast upon our statements. I hold one view about this matter, and Leo holds another, and finally, after much discussion, we have come to a compromise, namely, to send the history to you, giving you full leave to publish it if you think fit, the only stipulation being that you shall disguise our real names, and as much concerning our personal identity as is consistent with the maintenance of the bona fides of the narrative. “And now what am I to say further? I really do not know beyond once more repeating that everything is described in the accompanying manuscript exactly as it happened. As regards She herself I have nothing to add. Day by day we gave greater occasion to regret that we did not better avail ourselves of our opportunities to obtain more information from that marvellous woman. Who was she? How did she first come to the Caves of Kôr, and what was her real religion? We never ascertained, and now, alas! we never shall, at least not yet. These and many other questions arise in my mind, but what is the good of asking them now? “Will you undertake the task? We give you complete freedom, and as a reward you will, we believe, have the credit of presenting to the world the most wonderful history, as distinguished from romance, that its records can show. Read the manuscript (which I have copied out fairly for your benefit), and let me know. “Believe me, very truly yours, “L. Horace Holly “P.S. — Of course, if any profit results from the sale of the writing should you care to undertake its publication, you can do what you like with it, but if there is a loss I will leave instructions with my lawyers, Messrs. Geoffrey and Jordan, to meet it. We entrust the sherd, the scarab, and the parchments to your keeping, till such time as we demand them back again. — L. H. H.” This letter, as may be imagined, astonished me considerably, but when I came to look at the MS., which the pressure of other work prevented me from doing for a fortnight, I was still more astonished, as I think the reader will be also, and at once made up my mind to press on with the matter. I wrote to this effect to Mr. Holly, but a week afterwards received a letter from that gentleman’s lawyers, returning my own, with the information that their client and Mr. Leo Vincey had already left this country for Thibet, and they did not at present know their address. Well, that is all I have to say. Of the history itself the reader must judge. I give it him, with the exception of a very few alterations, made with the object of concealing the identity of the actors from the general public, exactly as it came to me. Personally I have made up my mind to refrain from comments. At first I was inclined to believe that this history of a woman on whom, clothed in the majesty of her almost endless years, the shadow of Eternity itself lay like the dark wing of Night, was some gigantic allegory of which I could not catch the meaning. Then I thought that it might be a bold attempt to portray the possible results of practical immortality, informing the substance of a mortal who yet drew her strength from Earth, and in whose human bosom passions yet rose and fell and beat as in the undying world around her the winds and the tides rise and fall and beat unceasingly. But as I went on I abandoned that idea also. To me the story seems to bear the stamp of truth upon its face. Its explanation I must leave to others, and with this slight preface, which circumstances make necessary, I introduce the world to Ayesha and the Caves of Kôr. — The Editor. P.S. — There is on consideration one circumstance that, after a reperusal of this history, struck me with so much force that I cannot resist calling the attention of the reader to it. He will observe that so far as we are made acquainted with him there appears to be nothing in the character of Leo Vincey which in the opinion of most people would have been likely to attract an intellect so powerful as that of Ayesha. He is not even, at any rate to my view, particularly interesting. Indee.d, one might imagine that Mr. Holly would under...FROM THE BOOKS. ordinary circumstances have easily outstripped him in the favour of She. Can it be that extremes meet, and that the very excess and splendour of her mind led her by means of some strange physical reaction to worship at the shrine of matter? Was that ancient Kallikrates nothing but a splendid animal loved for his hereditary Greek beauty? Or is the true explanation what I believe it to be — namely, that Ayesha, seeing further than we can see, perceived the germ and smouldering spark of greatness which lay hid within her lover’s soul, and well knew that under the influence of her gift of life, watered by her wisdom, and shone upon with the sunshine of her presence, it would bloom like a flower and flash out like a star, filling the world with light and fragrance? Here also I am not able to answer, but must leave the reader to form his own judgment on the facts before him, as detailed by Mr. Holly in the following pages...FROM THE BOOKS.
Author: Jules Verne
Publisher: DigiCat
ISBN:
Category : Fiction
Languages : en
Pages : 8724
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Book Description
This carefully crafted ebook: "THE LOST WORLD - 40 Books Collection: King Solomon's Mines, A Journey to the Centre of the Earth, New Atlantis, The Man Who Would be King, The Land That Time Forgot, Lost Horizon and many more" is formatted for your eReader with a functional and detailed table of contents: The Lost World (Arthur Conan Doyle) A Journey to the Centre of the Earth (Jules Verne) The Mysterious Island The Man Who Would Be King (Rudyard Kipling) At the Mountains of Madness (H. P. Lovecraft) King Solomon's Mines (Henry Rider Haggard) She: A History of Adventure The People of the Mist When the World Shook The Yellow God The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket (Edgar Allan Poe) Lost Horizon (James Hilton) The Moon Pool (Abraham Merritt) The Lost Lemuria (W. Scott-Elliot) The Lost Continent of Mu - Motherland of Man (James Churchward) Gulliver's Travels (Jonathan Swift) The Caspak Trilogy (E. Rice Burroughs) The Moon Trilogy The Pellucidar Series The Man-Eater The Cave Girl The Eternal Lover Jungle Girl The Return of Tarzan Tarzan and the Jewels of Opar The Atlantis Books: The Original Myth of Atlantis (Plato) New Atlantis (F. Bacon) Atlantis: The Antedeluvian World (I. Donnelly) The Lost Continent (C. J. Cutcliffe Hyne) The Story of Atlantis (W. Scott-Elliot) The lost world is a subgenre of the fantasy or science fiction genre that involves the discovery of a new world out of time or place. King Solomon's Mines by H. Rider Haggard is sometimes considered the first lost-world narrative. Haggard's novel shaped the form and influenced later lost-world books, including Kipling's The Man Who Would Be King, Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World, Burroughs' The Land That Time Forgot, A. Merritt's The Moon Pool, and H. P. Lovecraft's At the Mountains of Madness. James Hilton's Lost Horizon used the genre as a takeoff for popular philosophy and social comment and it introduced the name Shangri-La, a meme for the idealization of the lost world as a paradise.
Author: Khushabu Gupta
Author: Eric Drachman
Author: Robert Kraus
Author: Henry Rider Haggard
Author: Henry Rider Haggard