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198 Berichten
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Female
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14/12/1977
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Actueel
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The Iron BellyThe bar was called The Rusty Anchor and it smelled like fish and gasoline and the kind of cheap perfume that women wore when they needed to smell like something they were not, which was most women in Havenport. The neon sign buzzed like a trapped insect outside, casting a sickly red glow across the sticky counter and the row of stools that had been sat on by too many men with too many problems...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 2 Views 0 voorbeeldPlease log in to like, share and comment!
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The Zero Sum (V-05)The glass walls of the office offered a panoramic view of Manhattan, but to Marcus, it felt like being inside a very expensive aquarium. He sat across from the empty chair where his former partner, Julian, should have been. For seven years, Marcus had chased a ghost. Julian had vanished with forty million dollars of the firm's capital, leaving Marcus to face the regulators, the lawsuits, and...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 0 Views 0 voorbeeld
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The Hollow DoubleThis is a deeply immersive, non-linear adaptation of the story of Benjamin Cole. This is a deeply immersive, non-linear adaptation of the story of Benjamin Cole. This is a deeply immersive, non-linear adaptation of the story of Benjamin Cole. This is a deeply immersive, non-linear adaptation of the story of Benjamin Cole. This is a deeply immersive, non-linear adaptation of the story of...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 1 Views 0 voorbeeld
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The Plantation of the NovaAct I: The Night the Sky Fell The meteorite fell on a Tuesday in August, 1853. Silas Hartfield was sitting on his porch, watching the cotton fields sway in the heat, when the sky tore open. It was not a sound at first. It was a light—white and terrible and moving too fast to be anything natural. It crossed the sky in a line, like a match being struck, and then it was gone. Silas did not move....0 Reacties 0 aandelen 1 Views 0 voorbeeld
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THE ARK OF THE LAST STARSMarcus Webb woke up and knew, with a certainty that was not rational but absolute, that something had gone terribly wrong. The last thing he remembered was settling into the cryo-pod for a routine six-month watch cycle aboard the HMSS Ozymandias. He had been Dr. Marcus Webb, xenolinguist, senior member of the watch crew, thirty-four years old, with a degree from the University of Cape Town and...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 0 Views 0 voorbeeld
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The Crimson Vein of Blackmoor HallAct I The rain had been falling for three days when Arthur found her in the woods behind Blackmoor Hall. He was fifteen, though he looked twelve from the way he carried himself—shoulders hunched, eyes down, as if apologizing for taking up space. His parents had been gone seven years, swallowed by the Yorkshire moors on a mushroom-gathering trip that went wrong. The villagers said wolves. Arthur...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 1 Views 0 voorbeeld
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The Apex of GlassJulian lived in a penthouse that overlooked Manhattan, a sanctuary of glass and steel where the world below looked like a miniature model of a failing experiment. He was a man of efficiency, a master of the hedge fund, a predator in a bespoke suit. He viewed life as a series of optimizations, and his grief was no different. The loss of his son during a trip to the Adirondacks had been an...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 0 Views 0 voorbeeld
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The Roosevelt Avenue LedgerThe geography of Roosevelt Avenue is a map of desperation. It is a stretch of concrete where the air is a thick cocktail of diesel fumes, roasting nuts, and the metallic tang of old subway vents. To the city planners in their glass towers, it is a "zone of transition," a place to be revitalized, scrubbed, and sold. But to those of us who lived in the gaps between the buildings, it was the only...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 2 Views 0 voorbeeld
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The Last Crusader of CanterburyI. The rope was rough against William of Canterbury's throat. Anselm watched from the back of the crowd, his hands clenched into fists so tight that his nails drew blood from his palms, and he memorized the face of the man who had pulled the lever. Cardinal Decimus stood on a wooden platform beside the绞刑架, his crimson robes bright against the gray sky of an English March. He looked down at...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 0 Views 0 voorbeeld
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The Laundry of OblivionThe laundromat in Brooklyn was a place of rhythmic thumping and the smell of bleach and old sweat. Arthur was a man of habit, an office drone who spent his Saturdays watching his shirts spin in a circle, a metaphor for his own existence. He was a man who had accepted the beige nature of his life. One rainy Saturday, a stranger collapsed against a row of dryers. The man was dressed in a suit...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 4 Views 0 voorbeeld
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The Puppet Master's MazeThe "Mind-Sculpt" center in Manhattan was a monolith of black glass and cold ambition. Victor had once been a man of power—a senator who could move markets with a whisper. Now, he was a "guest," stripped of his titles and his memory, living in a room that felt like a high-end hotel cell. Victor's recovery was a game of shadows. He believed he was an undercover agent, tasked with infiltrating...0 Reacties 0 aandelen 1 Views 0 voorbeeld
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The Needle of WestminsterThe fog rolled off the Thames like a shroud, thick and yellow with coal smoke. Elias Thorne stood at the window of Blackwood Manor's east wing and watched the gas lamps flicker along the garden path below. He had been in London for three weeks, and already he understood why the English feared winter more than death. It was not the cold itself, but the way it crept into the bones and stayed....0 Reacties 0 aandelen 1 Views 0 voorbeeld
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