Gods of Atlantis

Gods of Atlantis

David J. L. Gibbins

Language: English

Pages: 576

ISBN: 0755354001

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

A thrilling standalone sequel to ATLANTIS, David Gibbins' international bestseller of high-action adventure, marine archaeology and the exploration of one of history's most fascinating and enduring mysteries. A lost Nazi bunker in a forest in Germany contains a dreadful secret. But is there a horrifying new dimension - another ingredient in the Nazi's rule of terror? Marine archaeologist Jack Howard returns to the lost island of Atlantis in the Black Sea to answer questions about the Atlantis priests that have plagued him. Then by tracking down the 1930s expeditions of Himmler's Ahnenerbe - the Nazi's Department of Cultural Heritage - and its link with Atlantis, Jack realises he is not just on the trail of the greatest lost relics from the past. Could there possibly be a terrifying new version of 'Atlantis', a priesthood of evil? Jack must uncover the truth before it is too late.

Ghost Ship (NUMA Files, Book 12)

The Maze of the Beast (Deltora Quest, Book 6)

The Emperor of Nihon Ja (Ranger's Apprentice, Book 10)


Without Warning

The Saint to the Rescue (Simon Templar 'The Saint', Book 34)




















again. ‘Take your arm down. We don’t need that nonsense in here, you and I.’ He looked wistfully at the broken glass, than back up at Hoffman, leaning forward. ‘Now, to business. What do you know about the Wunderwaffe?’ Hoffman stared past Himmler, unflinching. So that was it. Moments of apparent sense, moments when Himmler derided the last-ditch schemes of Hitler and his cronies, then back to the madness. The mythical Wunderwaffe was the biggest delusion of all, the wonder-weapon that was going

little warm. I’ll adjust the thermostat.’ ‘Don’t do that yet. Wait till you really need it. You’ll blow the system.’ ‘What do you mean?’ ‘It must have been the heat when we were close to the lava. You’ve got a leak from your coolant reservoir, Jack. You can’t afford to be that close to extreme heat any more, as you’ll soon have no way of cooling down.’ Jack shut his eyes, trying to control his breathing. For a moment he felt nauseous, a flutter in his stomach, the sickening feeling of the

as the flood waters rose up the walls of their city, before he had completed the last bull sacrifice and they had taken to the boats, his dying mother Nisir had closed her eyes and seen it in a vision: a thunderbird flying towards her, then twin peaks on the edge of the western sea, lofty like those of the sacred mountain of Atlantis that had been drowning all around them. And now he was sure he had seen it too, through a crack in the horizon the day before, framed by distant breakers like those

they would have looked on the original papyrus, based on the regular length of lines ancient scribes used. But we’ve actually got an original papyrus, with the lines exactly as Solon composed them. Almost immediately I matched his layout to the twelve-note musical scale. Look, you can see where I’ve highlighted the text, the letters alpha to lamda for the musical notes in the first letters of a line of words running diagonally through that last paragraph. That was my eureka moment. I realized

spotless white shirt and pressed trousers, the first time Jack could remember since their schooldays not seeing him in dusty khaki excavation gear. His right wrist was bandaged and hanging in a sling. With his other arm he swept back his remaining strands of hair, still glistening from the shower, and pushed his little round glasses up his nose. Jack watched him close his eyes and breathe deeply a few times. His glasses had steamed up on leaving the Portakabin, and he took them off and cleaned

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