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180 Publicações
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Female
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28/11/1961
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The Data FugitiveThe rain in New Chicago never stopped. It had not stopped in the seven years since OmniCore built their spire and blocked out the sun, and it would not stop now, not when Jack Kowalski was standing in a basement bar three levels below ground, selling fragments of stolen data to people who would use them to steal more. He called himself Cipher now. His real name had been James Kowalski, and he...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 0 Visualizações 0 AnteriorFaça Login para curtir, compartilhar e comentar!
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Sample V-09: The Last Curtain(Romantic Tragedy) Paris in the 1950s was a city of grey stone and golden light, a place where the ghosts of poets walked the banks of the Seine. Julian lived in a garret in Montmartre, the walls thin enough to hear the arguments of the neighbors and the distant sound of an accordion. He had been a star in London, but a scandal and a breakdown had cast him into the shadows. Serena had found him...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 1 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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Sample V-06: The Silence ConspiracyThe humidity of the Louisiana bayou didn't just hang in the air; it breathed. It was a thick, cloying presence that smelled of sulfur, rotting lilies, and the slow decay of a family that had stayed too long in the same house. Cora lived in the ancestral home of the Beaumonts, a crumbling plantation where the porches sagged like tired eyelids and the Spanish moss draped from the cypress trees...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 1 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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The Broadcast from LunaThe sky over New York in the autumn of 1925 was the colour of old brass, and the jazz bands of Harlem played through the nights as though the world might end at dawn. It did not end at dawn. It arrived at dusk, in the form of a ring that hung above the Pacific like a halo forged by hands too vast to comprehend. Arthur Winslow stood on the steps of the Museum of Natural History in Manhattan and...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 1 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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Sample V-01: The Last Letter from the Front(Victorian Melancholy) The fog of London clung to the cobblestones like a damp shroud, mirroring the suffocating grief that had settled over Clara’s heart. She sat by the window of her father’s study, the mahogany furniture smelling of old tobacco and forgotten ambitions. In her hand was a letter, the paper yellowed and brittle, the ink faded but the words still screaming with a passion that...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 1 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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Sample V-303: The Long Shadow(Film Noir) The rain in Los Angeles didn't wash anything away; it just made the grime shine. Detective Elias Thorne sat in his office, the neon sign of the diner across the street blinking like a dying heart. He lived in the gray spaces, the gaps between the law and the truth. Then came Sarah. She walked in with a veil over her eyes and a secret in her handbag. Elias had taken her on as a...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 10 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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sample-新婚日记-V-05-The Thing We Didn''t Name-202606092020The Thing We Didn''t NameClaire was watching Mark make coffee the way people watch birds: with the patient attention of someone who understands that the interesting things happen at speeds you can''t quite track. They had been living together for three years. They shared a credit card. They shared a cat named Pym, who was indifferent to both of them in roughly equal measure. And suddenly,...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 21 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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The DirtI The bills sat on the kitchen table in a stack that was exactly three inches high. I counted them because I had nothing else to count. Twelve bills. Twelve things I owed and twelve reasons I could not pay. The coffee was cold. I drank it anyway. It tasted like burnt water and that was fine. Burnt water was what I deserved. Lily was sleeping in the other room. She is six years old and she has a...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 2 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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The Gilded Cage of DustThe manor house at Blackwood stood like a rotting tooth in the jaw of the Mississippi Delta. Silas was the last of the Blackwoods, a man whose blood was a map of ancestral sins and whose mind was a doorway that wouldn't stay shut. He didn't choose the jumps. The jumps chose him. It started with a sneeze, a blink, a sudden shift in the wind. One moment he was staring at the peeling wallpaper of...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 12 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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The Banquet of AbsurdityThe penthouse of the Obsidian Tower was a temple to the surreal. The walls were mirrored, the floors were white marble, and the furniture was designed by a man who hated the concept of comfort. This was the domain of The Host, a man whose real name was forgotten, but whose influence was absolute. He didn't trade in stocks or gold; he traded in the exquisite agony of the social elite. Julian, a...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 10 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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The City of TomorrowACT I — THE ARRIVAL The train from Boston to New York arrived at Penn Station at 6:47 on a Tuesday in October 1924, and Julian Marsh stepped onto the platform carrying nothing but a leather satchel and the kind of quiet that comes from watching every man you served with get buried in French soil. He was twenty-six years old and looked forty. The army had seen to that—the mustard gas at Belleau...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 12 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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Casey had been sent to investigate her.The neon sign above the jazz club flickered like a dying star, casting pink and blue light across the wet pavement of 125th Street. Casey Moran stood in the doorway, one hand on the doorframe, listening to the saxophone bleed through the walls. He had been a soldier once. Now he was a reporter for the New York Herald Tribune. Sometimes he felt both professions were the same thing—just different...0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 15 Visualizações 0 Anterior
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