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171 Publicações
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Female
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09/10/1984
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The Anatomist's ChiselThe first body Thomas Grey dissected was a woman in her sixties, found in a tenement on Cockburn Street, her face frozen in an expression that might have been surprise or might have been resignation. Professor Hornick stood over the table, his hands clean and steady, and instructed Thomas to make the incision. Thomas held the scalpel with both hands. His knuckles were white. The blade caught...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 2 Visualizações 0 AnteriorFaça Login para curtir, compartilhar e comentar!
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The Man Behind the MaskThe mask was custom-made, Italian leather, dyed to match the colour of Silas Winterbourne's skin as closely as possible. From three feet away, no one could tell. From three inches away, they could. Silas made sure they never got closer than three feet. It was November 1922, and the trading floor of Wall Street was a roaring sea of men in dark suits, their voices rising above the ticker tapes...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 0 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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THE GARDEN OF TOMORROWA Collection of Ten Short Stories I. THE STARLIGHT LESSON Nora Chen had never seen a star. She was born blind, congenital optic nerve atrophy, the doctors said. No treatment available. No hope. She was eight years old when her grandfather first told her about the stars, sitting beside her on the porch of his house in Pasadena, his old radio telescope pointed at the sky she could not see....0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 3 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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The Wish MerchantThe box fit in Tommy O'Brien's palm like it had been made for him. Which, he supposed, it had been. Made by the man who'd handed it to him in the back room of the Velvet Lounge, a man who introduced himself only as Mr. White and who smelled like expensive whiskey and expensive lies. "It hears wishes," Mr. White said. He was a tall man, thin in the way that men who live by their wits tend to...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 3 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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The Silent ArrayThe desert did not forgive mistakes. It simply erased them. Jack Morrison drove his Honda across the New Mexico flats at dawn, the steering wheel cracked and warm against his palms. He had no idea where he was going. The man who hired him had given him a single address: Site 17, via Highway 60, turn left at the water tower, follow the gravel road for twelve miles. No name, no logo, no...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 3 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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The Velvet FrequencyThe Velvet Frequency The green light blinked at the end of the dock the way green lights do—indifferent, distant, belonging to someone else. Jack Calloway stood in the parking lot behind his apartment in Greenwich Village and watched it through the windshield of his Ford, one hand on the wheel, one hand holding a beer he'd opened twenty minutes ago and had not finished because finishing it...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 4 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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Final RollThe fog did not lift from Blackhollow Manor. It thickened. It pressed against the stained-glass windows like a living thing, patient and hungry. Arthur Blackwood stood in the foyer, his father\'s pocket watch heavy in his vest pocket. It was the only thing he had left that was not mortgaged, not pledged, not promised to some creditor whose name he no longer remembered. The watch had belonged to...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 7 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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The Fall of the ParagonThe mud of the Belgian plains was a hungry, grey maw that swallowed men and horses alike. General Valerius sat in his command tent, the canvas snapping in the cold wind of 1812. He was the "Iron Paragon," the most respected military mind of the era, a man whose name was synonymous with an unwavering, almost religious adherence to the code of honor. To his soldiers, he was more than a commander;...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 1 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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Sample V-02: The Seed of Eternity(Setting: Jazz Age New York, 1924) The party at the penthouse was a whirlwind of champagne, sequins, and the frantic, syncopated rhythms of a saxophone that seemed to mock the very idea of silence. Leo stood on the balcony, overlooking the glittering sprawl of Manhattan, feeling the familiar void opening up in his chest. Around him, the "Lost Generation" danced on the edge of a volcano,...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 11 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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# The Two-Dimensional ManThe phone rang at two in the morning, which was the kind of hour when calls are either emergencies or jokes. Jack Callahan was prepared for both. He reached for the receiver on the fourth ring, took a swallow of rye whiskey from the bottle on his desk, and said, "Callahan." The voice on the other end was a woman's, nervous and professional at the same time, like someone who had spent years...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 13 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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The Star-SickACT ONE Lord Sebastian Blackwood saw the truth on a night in March when the opium was thin and the sky was clear and the distance between madness and vision was exactly zero. He sat in the dome of his private observatory, a small brick structure at the edge of the Blackwood estate in Surrey, looking through a brass telescope that had belonged to his grandfather. The instrument was...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 2 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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The Last Pulse from Luminarium=================== The Luminarium was perfect. That was the problem. It was a simulated paradise — vast, beautiful, infinite in its variations. Uploaded minds lived there in worlds of their own design, each one a personal universe where nothing hurt and nothing ended and nothing mattered because nothing was real. Most humans had uploaded three centuries ago. The physical world existed only to...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 4 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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