Inside the Lines is a drama that developed during the First World War. The story about a business woman who came to New York to visit her department store. She meets an officer in the British signal corps. He escorts her to Paris and advises to quickly complete his business and return to America before the start of the war. But our heroine does the opposite and is in difficult circumstances.

Każda kobieta w Sydney chciałaby zdobyć serce Ramsaya Walkera, ale ten przystojny i uwodzicielski dyrektor międzynarodowej firmy nie ma zamiaru rezygnować z wolności. Trafia jednak swój na swego. Szkotka Nola Manson, specjalistka od cyberbezpieczeństwa, niezależna i lubiąca ryzyko, jest dla niego prawdziwym wyzwaniem. Intryguje go tak bardzo, że Ramsey zadaje sobie wiele trudu, by się do niej zbliżyć. Nie przewidział tylko, jak ta gra się dla niego skończy… 

W ten mroźny, zimny, grudniowy wieczór czyjaś dawno zgasła iskra zadrgała znów jasnym, kojącym blaskiem.Święta spędzone na Mazurach w gronie najbliższych są jak z bajki. Zimowe krajobrazy, drzewa przysypane śniegiem i długie spacery z dala od zgiełku miasta. Czy w takim miejscu każdy ból zostanie ukojony?W tym roku córki Kosmy szykują dla niego niezwykłą niespodziankę. To będzie niepowtarzalny wieczór pełen miłości, wspomnień i wzruszeń.Bo czas spędzony z ludźmi, których koch...

Kolejny bestseller Warrenów, autorów książki Nawiedzenia. Historie prawdziwe Ed i Lorraine Warrenowie, najsłynniejsi i najbardziej szanowani demonolodzy świata, poświęcili kilka dziesięcioleci na badanie, potwierdzanie i wreszcie dokumentowanie niezliczonych przypadków zjawisk nie z tego świata. Zdumiewające doświadczenia Warrenów ze światem nadprzyrodzonym stały się inspiracją dla bestsellerowych książek i bijących rekordy popularności filmów, w tym Obecność, Annabelle ...

1936. „Sanctuary Island” is a crime novel by the pioneer of detective fiction Edgar Wallace (an adaption by Robert Curtis). Richard Horatio Edgar Wallace was born in London, England in 1875. He received his early education at St. Peter’s School and the Board School, but after a frenetic teens involving a rash engagement and frequently changing employment circumstances, Wallace went into the military. He served in the Royal West Kent Regiment in England and then as part of t...

„The Green Pack” is a novel adapted from a successful play by the playwright Robert Curtis. Robert Curtis was the private secretary to British crime writer Edgar Wallace. Curtis and Wallace met for the first time in 1913, before parting following the outbreak of World War One, as Curtis had to do his military service. In 1916, he was discharged from the service after contracting malaria. In 1918 he was reunited with Wallace who employed him as his secretary, he had the task...

The novel of Edgar Wallace’s famous play told by Robert Curtis. „Smoky Cell”:... At ten o’clock that night the guards outside the prison walls were doubled and among them they had enough machine-guns to play havoc with a battalion. The warden of the prison had announced that he was taking no chances. Ben Guinney, he had said, might have escaped from Canyon City prison without his due dose of high-power juice, but he wasn’t going to jump this dump. Rumors of an attempt at re...

Here is Edgar Wallace’s famous stage-play as told by Robert Curtis in story form with all the dramatic excitement and suspense that thrilled theatre-goers. Robert Curtis was the private secretary to British crime writer Edgar Wallace. Curtis and Wallace met for the first time in 1913, before parting following the outbreak of World War One, as Curtis had to do his military service. In 1918 he was reunited with Wallace who employed him as his secretary, he had the task of cop...

Over her head hung the menace of murder – and; of the man who changed his name...Best remembered for penning the screenplay for the classic film „King Kong”, author Edgar Wallace was an astoundingly popular luminary in the action-adventure genre in the early twentieth century. „The Man Who Changed His Name” is a Robert Curtis’s adaptation of a screenplay by Edgar Wallace. This story packed with intrigue, mystery, murders, and it highlights Wallace’s unmatched skill in setti...

The novel of Edgar Wallace’s famous play told by Robert Curtis in story form with all the dramatic excitement and suspense. In the shady setting of a solicitor’s office on the East End waterfront a plan is evolved – all quite legal to get hold of a large American legacy bequeathed to an English girl. Murder is planned and tried: kidnapping, incarceration in a London barge, a dash for freedom, the intervention of the river police and knock-out drops all play their part in th...

The desert shimmered in the heat waves. Conan the Cimmerian stared out over the aching desolation and involuntarily drew the back of his powerful hand over his blackened lips. He stood like a bronze image in the sand, apparently impervious to the murderous sun, though his only garment was a silk loin-cloth, girdled by a wide gold-buckled belt from which hung a saber and a broad-bladed poniard. On his clean-cut limbs were evidences of scarcely healed wounds.

Wings in the Night collects Robert E. Howard’s fiction and prose published in Weird Tales Magazine from July 1932 to May 1933. These works represent literary stepping-stones to Howard’s infamous Cthulhu mythos stories and his most famous character of all -- Conan the Cimmerian -- and ably demonstrate that each of Howard’s stories improved and added to his formidable skills as a master of fantasy and adventure.

From the unsurpassed imagination of the creator of Conan, Robert E. Howard, here are three tales of boxing, suspense and high adventure. „Three Tales of the Ring” is an excellent sampler of his non-sword and sorcery output, with a very strong emphasis on the gothic and the macabre. The collection includes such Howard’s masterpieces as „The Apparition in the Prize Ring”, „Alleys of Darkness”, „Cupid vs Pollux”. „The Apparition In the Prize Ring” is a ghostly little boxing st...

The speaker wrapped his purple cloak closer about his powerful frame and settled back into his official chair, much as he might have settled back in his seat at the Circus Maximus to enjoy the clash of gladiatorial swords. Realization of power colored his every move. Whetted pride was necessary to Roman satisfaction, and Titus Sulla was justly proud; for he was military governor of Eboracum and answerable only to the emperor of Rome.

Torches flared murkily on the revels in the Maul, where the thieves of the east held carnival by night. In the Maul they could carouse and roar as they liked, for honest people shunned the quarters, and watchmen, well paid with stained coins, did not interfere with their sport. Along the crooked, unpaved streets with their heaps of refuse and sloppy puddles, drunken roisterers staggered, roaring. Steel glinted in the shadows where wolf preyed on wolf, and from the darkness ...

This is a good book of four Western stories. The title story, however, is the longest. „The Vultures of Whapeton” suffers from a protagonist who is just a bit too manly and effective to be believed. Everyone who meets Steve Corcoran seems to instantly know he’ll just prevail in any kind of gunfight, no matter how outnumbered he is -- and then, of course, Corcoran goes on to do use that.

An Irish-American warrior passes himself of as a Kurd and sets out to steal the treasure of Tartary. This is one of Robert E, Howard’s fast-paced short stories, featuring lots of fights and sliced entrails. Not one of his best works, in my opinion, as it somehow lacks substance. It seemed all hell and no notion.

A great black shadow lay across the land, cleaving the red flame of the red sunset. To the man who toiled up the jungle trail it loomed like a symbol of death and horror, a menace brooding and terrible, like the shadow of a stealthy assassin flung upon some candle-lit wall.

The tales of James Allison take place both in modern times and in the far past, in that time after the Hyborian kingdoms of Conan. Allison is a crippled Texan who lost a leg when his horse fell on him. To escape boredom and sadness he ventures into the past, exploring his previous lives as mighty warriors. All these ancestors were members of a migration of Aryans as they traveled the world in search of a homeland.

The battle in the meadowlands of the Euphrates was over, but not the slaughter. On that bloody field where the Caliph of Bagdad and his Turkish allies had broken the onrushing power of Doubeys ibn Sadaka of Hilla and the desert, the steel-clad bodies lay strewn like the drift of a storm. The great canal men called the Nile, which connected the Euphrates with the distant Tigris, was choked with the bodies of the tribesmen, and survivors were panting in flight toward the whit...

Over shadowy spires and gleaming towers lay the ghostly darkness and silence that runs before dawn. Into a dim alley, one of a veritable labyrinth of mysterious winding ways, four masked figures came hurriedly from a door which a dusky hand furtively opened. They spoke not but went swiftly into the gloom, cloaks wrapped closely about them; as silently as the ghosts of murdered men they disappeared in the darkness.

So thay brought the envoys, pallid from months of imprisonment, before the canopied throne of Suleyman the Magnificent, Sultan of Turkey, and the mightiest monarch in an age of mighty monarchs. Under the great purple dome of the royal chamber gleamed the throne before which the world trembled– gold-paneled, pearl-inlaid. An emperor’s wealth in gems was sewn into the silken canopy from which depended a shimmering string of pearls ending a frieze of emeralds which hung like a...

The roar of battle had died away; the shout of victory mingled with the cries of the dying. Like gay-hued leaves after an autumn storm, the fallen littered the plain; the sinking sun shimmered on burnished helmets, gilt-worked mail, silver breastplates, broken swords and the heavy regal folds of silken standards, overthrown in pools of curdling crimson. In silent heaps lay war- horses and their steel-clad riders, flowing manes and blowing plumes stained alike in the red tid...

The king of vendhya was dying. Through the hot, stifling night the temple gongs boomed and the conchs roared. Their clamor was a faint echo in the gold- domed chamber where Bhunda Chand struggled on the velvet-cushioned dais. Beads of sweat glistened on his dark skin; his fingers twisted the gold-worked fabric beneath him. He was young; no spear had touched him, no poison lurked in his wine.