From acclaimed author Makiia Lucier, a dazzling, romantic fantasy inspired by Pacific Island mythology. In the old tales, it is written that the egg of a seadragon, dragonfruit, holds within it the power to undo a person’s greatest sorrow. An unwanted marriage, a painful illness, and unpaid debt ... gone. But as with all things that promise the moon and the stars and offer hope when hope has gone, the tale comes with a warning. Every wish demands a price. Hanalei of Tamarind is the cherished daughter of an old island family. But when her father steals a seadragon egg meant for an ailing princess, she is forced into a life of exile. In the years that follow, Hanalei finds solace in studying the majestic seadragons that roam the Nominomi Sea. Until, one day, an encounter with a female dragon offers her what she desires most. A chance to return home, and to right a terrible wrong. Samahtitamahenele, Sam, is the last remaining prince of Tamarind. But he can never inherit the throne, for Tamarind is a matriarchal society. With his mother ill and his grandmother nearing the end of her reign. Sam is left with two to marry, or to find a cure for the sickness that has plagued his mother for ten long years. When a childhood companion returns from exile, she brings with her something he has not felt in a very long time - hope. But Hanalei and Sam are not the only ones searching for the dragonfruit. And as they battle enemies both near and far, there is another danger they cannot escape…that of the dragonfruit itself.  

Published in 1942 by French author Albert Camus, The Stranger has long been considered a classic of twentieth-century literature. Le Monde ranks it as number one on its "100 Books of the Century" list. Through this story of an ordinary man unwittingly drawn into a senseless murder on a sundrenched Algerian beach, Camus explores what he termed "the nakedness of man faced with the absurd."

Meet Celaena Sardothien. Beautiful. Deadly. Destined for greatness. In a land without magic, where the king rules with an iron hand, Celaena, an assassin, is summoned to the castle. She comes not to kill the king, but to win her freedom. If she defeats twenty-three killers, thieves, and warriors in a competition, she is released from prison to serve as the king’s champion. The Crown Prince will provoke her. The Captain of the Guard will protect her. But something evil dwells in the castle of glass—and it’s there to kill. When her competitors start dying one by one, Celaena’s fight for freedom becomes a fight for survival, and a desperate quest to root out the evil before it destroys her world.

I Hoshigahara finns en stor skog som barnen i trakten inte vågar gå in i, eftersom det sägs att den är hemsökt av spöken och andra hemska varelser. Men mitt i skogen står ett litet hus där en man bor med skogsandarna! Hisae Iwaokas manga är en hjärtvärmande och lite melankolisk fantasy fylld med andar, vindgudar och andra märkliga väsen.

Meet Celaena Sardothien. Beautiful. Deadly. Destined for greatness. In a land without magic, where the king rules with an iron hand, Celaena, an assassin, is summoned to the castle. She comes not to kill the king, but to win her freedom. If she defeats twenty-three killers, thieves, and warriors in a competition, she is released from prison to serve as the king’s champion. The Crown Prince will provoke her. The Captain of the Guard will protect her. But something evil dwells in the castle of glass—and it’s there to kill. When her competitors start dying one by one, Celaena’s fight for freedom becomes a fight for survival, and a desperate quest to root out the evil before it destroys her world.

"— Le dolmen dont tu m’as parlé, Johan, il est bien sur la route du petit pont ? — À deux kilomètres après le petit pont, ne te trompe pas. Sur ta gauche, tu ne peux pas le manquer. Il est splendide, toutes ses pierres sont encore debout. — Ça date de quand, un dolmen ? — Environ quatre mille ans. — Donc des pierres pénétrées par les siècles. C’est parfait pour moi. — Mais parfait pour quoi ? — Et cela servait à quoi, ces dolmens ? demanda Adamsberg sans répondre. — Ce sont des monuments funéraires. Des tombes, si tu préfères, faites de pierres dressées recouvertes par de grandes dalles. J’espère que cela ne te gêne pas. — En rien. C’est là que je vais aller m’allonger, en hauteur sur la dalle, sous le soleil. — Et qu’est-ce que tu vas foutre là-dessus ? — Je ne sais pas, Johan."