Bøker utgitt av LARS HENK

A new professor has arrived at the West Michigan School: he is sexy, he is funny, he teaches English... And he will make you fall in love. Ms. James's adventures and love affair will definitely keep you entertained for a while.

In 1927, a sixty-four year old man went fishing on the south side of the island. The man was missing for two days before he washed ashore, but a victim of drowning, he was not. Portions of his skin had been mercilessly torn from his body, not from the teeth of a shark, but skillfully done by the hand of a monster.Later, in 1936, two young men went swimming on the west corner of the island. One of the men watched as his companion was dragged into the water by his ankles, never to be seen again. The witness could only describe the monster as being just a shadow in the waves.In 1942, a woman drowned in front of her newly wedded husband.In 1954, a local man was pulled out of his boat only to wash up on shore without any arms. 1963 had two swimmers dead within six months. The number of attacks kept rising, and the island's inhabitants began to decline.By the 1990s, San Mahina was nearly abandoned, the only residents being the locals and the occasional renter. No longer were the days of happy vacations and sunny retreats. The once crystalline blue water would forever be red in the haunted minds of those who witnessed the island's horrors.And so the palm trees continued to sway in false security, the island forever haunted by its cerulean depths. There were never any survivors of the attacks, but there were witnesses.And they all described the monster as the same.A shadow in the sea.

I wap, twap, twap.Skin slapped against skin as the only other sound besides their mutual ragged breathing, and Ali's mind began to wander.This definitely wasn't break-up sex because much to her mother's disappointment, she and the naked guy on top of her hadn't been"a thing" since college. He might have been good looking, rich, and completely infatuated with her, but Ali didn't have time for things like random Happy Hours or whatever it was couples regularly partook in these days. Her career came first.And at this rate, it would be the only thing coming, she thought to herself, holding back a giggle at the unintended pun.

"Oh C'mon, Isobel. It can't be that bad, can it? I mean.. Sure you'll have to walk around all day with sauce on you.. But.. It um.. Looks good?" My friend nervously let out.I laughed lighly and stared at myself in the mirror. My god, I looked like some cat that found food in a garbage can. I winced and awkwardly moved a bit. I had sauce in places that sauce shouldn't be."Gah! I can't believe that barbie wanna be did this to you! I swear.. If I get my hands on her, I'll.." She continued rambling, walking out the door. I'm not sure she even knew she was walking..I sighed and tried to get all the sauce out of my hair. I rinsed it out with the sink in the girls bathroom, watching as the red substance went down the drain.I pulled my head up, wringing my hair out. This will have to do..

La nuit autonnale s'était installe sur la petite ville de létat deCalifornie. Les rues étaient plongées dans un silence imper-turbable. En apparence, cette ville ne semblait pas différente d'une autre. Elle comptait des rues en damier de maisons identiques. Elle se caractérisait par ses commerces indépendants, son unique lycée et un cinéma pour seule activité du week-end. Darins n'avait donc rien de particulier. Mais ce n'était pas pareil entre les murs du laboratoire.Une chose terrible venait de se produire, qui perturberait le calme.La victime était étendue sur le sol froid du laboratoire de Darins, face contre terre, du sang coulait de son front. Bettanie Vane, jeune laborantine, était seule au laboratoire ce soir-là, elle était de garde et n'avait pas entendu la tueuse arriver.La tueuse en question était debout, au-dessus d'elle, l'expression neutre. Elle scrutait sa victime, se délectait de voir la vie quitter doucement ses yeux.

Pour dire je taime.les indien Yanomant en Anaconie desent;Ya pihi irakema, qui signifie j'ai été contaminé par ton être -une partie de toi vit et grandit en moi.David Servan-SchreiberChaque fois que le danger me guettait, comme à cet instant où je n'entrevoyais rien d'autre que ma mort imminente, j'étais en proie à cette sensation ineffable.Je ne percevais pas son visage. Je n'entendais pas sa voix dans ma tête. Je ne humais pas son odeur chatouiller mes narines.Te le sentais. En moi. Là. À l'intérieur même de ma poitrine.Il m'enserra le c¿ur. Je vis au loin un groupe armé escalader les marches quatre à quatre, à la poursuite du gibier qu'il chassait. Moi, en l'occurrence.J'abaissai les paupières pour me concentrer sur la brûlure qui me réchauffait et enjambai le parapet sans hésitation.-Non ! cria quelqu'un.

Jake inspiraune grande longue gorgie d ai frais, les yeux fermes,savourant la légère brise sur son visage. Non pas que l'air derrière la porte qu'il venait de franchir soit différent, moins respirable, voire malodorant, ni la chaleur du soleil sur ma peau moins agréable. Mais en un sens, oui, c'est le cas. L'air qu'il était en train d'inspirer goûtait et sentait la liberté. C'était purement psychologique, mais c'est ce qu'il ressentait. Le soleil qui réchauffe sa peau était le meilleur des médicaments contre l'ombre qui régnait derrière la porte. Jake aurait voulu rester là un peu plus longtemps, à profiter un peu des bienfaits de ce que le ciel sans nuages lui apportait, mais il voulait absolument s'éloigner de cet endroit le plus vite possible. Les autorités pénitentiaires lui avaient rendu son téléphone, mais depuis le temps qu'il était enfermé, la batterie était à plat, il devait y avoir tellement de mises à jour à faire qu'il ne sera fonctionnel que dans huit jours, minimum.De toute façon, son abonnement avait été résilié depuis un moment.Son téléphone ne lui servirait à rien, sauf comme presse papier ou pour caler une table bancale.

"I have told you countless times that I am not interested nor am I ready for anything called a relationship," Cassidy said, the tone of her voice hinting anger, as she rolled her luggage to a stop in her new bedroom of her new apartment. The perplexed woman rolled her eyes at her younger sister who had been annoying her with small talks about relationships ever since she broke up with her boyfriend-Vic-tor.Cassidv's mind drifted off as she remembered all the times she firstmet Victor, how he had been so sweet and so romantic to her. Even when they had started out as friends who had met in a coffee shop, he was always so caring. It made Cassidy fall for his charms because to her, he was the perfect man for her happily ever after. But everything changed when she began to date Victor, he stopped talking to her like when they used to be friends, the numerous attention he always gave her, reduced.

Annoyed and slightly frustrated, Malia rummages around her studio apartment in search of her car keys. "Mum, I'm not getting into this. I highly doubt he's cheating on you!" She grumbles back at the wailing woman currently situated on her sofa, which has doubled as a temporary bed for the past few days. Sofia slams her fists down on the cushions and throws her head back, her eyes trailing behind her daughter as she shifts from place to place."I'm not going back!" Sofia refuses to go back to the man that decided to cheat on her. Her children don't believe her, hell she doesn't believe herself... but why was her man out late, why did he always hide his phone.Malia rolls her eyes

I hiss as the cold water makes contact with the back of my head. The light purple water cascades around the white basin of my toilet. Combing my fingers through my hair making sure the chemicals get rinsed off, I silently curse the ghost of my best friend.'Seriously Bree? Dye your hair? Why couldn't you pick something easier and fun like solving crosswords on newspapers?'After making sure that my hair is properly washed, or as proper as I could get it at least, my hands find the towel by my side and I wrap my hair in it. I grimace and wipe my neck with the ends of the towel.Unhygienic, I know. But I'm too lazy to take a shower and paint my amazing tiles purple. The damage in the basin will have to suffice fornow.I step out of my bathroom and put on my pajamas with ease. My eyes skim over the desk and I slowly walk over to it.

This time, the fortress was with a backdrop of a midnight blue, the color of her mother's favorite dress, accessorized by glittering stars. It was the same turrets as when she saw it last week, all of them racing for the heavens as an ongoing battle with windows lining the stone walls. Hidden behind strings of clouds, the fortress could only be seen if she strained her eyes hard enough.Naomi was always on the lookout for it. Ever since her father had left her with the bedtime story of a mysterious abandoned castle located far away from where normal people could go, she had always been searching. Even years after her father's unfortunate death, Naomi never stopped.It was through the search, through the wonder and magic induced, did she feel connected with her father where even death could notseparate.

I never forget that Saturday night. It was about two years ago. I was at Leo's warehouse with an old buddy, Jerry.Leo's an importer of sex toys. Not just the plain vanilla stuff, but real kinky stuff too - if you want to get a dildo with electrodes built-in and a high-voltage power supply so you can light someone up, Leo's your guy. Compared to some of his wares, that's pretty tame.As a promotional gimmick, he has a show practically every weekend in an unused section of his warehouse - he calls them 'product demonstrations'- where the attendees are encouraged to try his products on a live 'model.'Leo's 'models' are co-eds that he recruits from the local University.He somehow persuades them to strip naked and then allow themselves to be tied up so they are helpless to prevent dozens of perfect strangers from assaulting them with dildoes, vibrators, and other toys, some pleasurable, some not.

The writer dich't remember how he ended up squished gainsthe wall holding the limp corpse of his sixteen-year-old son, humming a French lullaby, and staring at New York City through the gaping hole in the wall.He remembered fireworks, the angry sounds of sizzles and pops through the walls and outside the windows. The sounds built to a forte before engulfing the simple lobby in an exposition of heat and noise.He remembered it raining hot rocks from the ceiling, dust swirling around the atmosphere.He remembered waking up on the cold concrete that holds up his place of work. His head brushing against some ugly carpet that vaguely reminded him of sandpaper.He remembered Peter.Peter?Peter.

Tears of desperation threaten my eyes as plead for my job. It is not much but if I lose this job, I won't have anything. I've only been living in Crescent Springs for a few months, I'm barely making rent and I have no safety net of savings. I don't want to go running back to my family to ask for help. My mother will never let me hear the end of her lectures on why she is never wrong and how I should just do what she says and my father; gosh I can't even imagine how he will tear into me for disobeying him and moving away from home in the first place. Going back is not an option and it will only prove that I'm as incapable as they claim."I'm sorry Ms. Peters but I have to let you go. Frankly Amina, I don't understand it myself, you are the best employee I've ever had but I have to follow my orders. Management is restructuring the company." Mr. Hays shrugs, pats my shoulder in sympathy, and walks away without further explanation.

I rounded the corner towards the canteen, spotting Sam and Dodger sitting inside. Both of them were talking as they oc- casionally sipped from two steaming hot mugs. They were readily dressed in their standard issue, navy blue uniforms, their t-shirts framed their athletic bodies and were tucked into their belted up pants of the same colour. Both men had dark hair, Dodger's a little longer, and messier than Sam's, and with a similar rugged appear- ance, they could have passed for brothers to people who didn't know them. Sam being a few years older though, added a dash of maturity to his looks. Dodger, on the other hand, was one of those people that didn't even look as old as he was. Only just moving into his late thirties, he had such a strong, youthful personality, that he could pass for someone a good few years younger.