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Univers de la Fantasy

La fantasy fait partie des littératures de l'imaginaire. Dans la fantasy comme dans le merveilleux, le surnaturel est généralement accepté, voire utilisé pour définir les règles d'un monde imaginaire, et n'est pas nécessairement objet de doute ou de peur. Cela distingue la fantasy du fantastique où le surnaturel fait intrusion dans les règles du monde habituel, et de l'horreur où il suscite peur et angoisse.



Le livre du moment

L'Ange de la nuit, Tome 1 : La Voie des Ombres

  • Anglais
  • The Way of Shadows
  • Brent Weeks
  • Fantasy, Assassin, Dark Fantasy

Discussions autour de la fantasy

Extraits du moment

  • << Il faisait tellement chaud dans cette région de l'Oasis ! On comprit vite pourquoi les gardiennes de cet endroit ne portaient qu'une sorte de paréo taillé dans un voile de gaze, en plus de leurs bijoux et de leurs lances. Sans notre capacité à changer de vêtements à volonté, nous serions probablement morts de chaleur. Mais, grâce à Ophélie, notre éternelle bienfaitrice, une seule demande à nos gemmes de stockage corrigea instantanément tout cela.

    J'étais désormais torse nu, les jambes vêtues d'un léger sarouel azur retenu à la taille par une ceinture de satin mauve. Sandales de cuir et bracelets de force assortis... Un vrai prince des Mille et Une Nuits. >>

    Extrait de Là où naissent les fées
  • Chapter 1

    Gabby woke up to the new day with a smile on her face—then she remembered the guy sleeping next to her.

    What was his name? Chaz?

    Gabby groaned but then checked herself, not wanting “the Chaz” to wake before she got some clothes on. The sliver of light glaring through the bottom of her shades suggested a beautiful autumn day outside.

    She slipped on her sweatpants and a t-shirt just as Prince Charming woke up. Gabby groaned again—he looked to be no older than twenty.

    “Mornin’ sunshine. I’d offer you breakfast, but I’ve got something important in a little bit,” said Gabby, tossing him his jeans.

    He came to sleepily and smiled, rubbing his obvious morning wood. “Are you kicking me out already? We haven’t had morning sex yet.”

    Gabby offered him a friendly smile. “Sorry babe, got people to see and things to do.”

    Chaz said no more, but threw back the sheets, revealing his impressive erection. “Have it your way,” he said playfully, rubbing a hand across his waxed chest and chiseled abs.

    “Maybe I’ve got ten minutes,” said Gabby, quickly tossing the shirt aside and straddling him.

    She was a little sore from the previous night, so she took it slowly, taking her time to take him in fully. He grinned at her teasing and matched her rhythm, taking hold of her hips with strong hands. When he was deep inside, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her down to ride him slowly. He tried to kiss her, but Gabby hadn’t kissed a man since Victor. It was too intimate, and Gabby wasn’t looking for love. She sat up and pushed him down before pinning his arms behind his head and gyrating urgently. He flexed and thrust upward, pressing himself deeper still.

    Gabby grabbed a handful of hair and yanked his head to the side. “Faster!” she panted as the climax slowly built inside of her.

    Chaz responded with renewed vigor, breaking free of her grip and pulling hard on her shoulders. A shocked breath escaped her and she cried out, “Yes, yes, yes…”

    The orgasm took her breath away as Chaz held her firmly upon his shaft. Wave after wave of pleasure rocked her body, leaving her spent and shaking in their aftermath.

    Chaz gave her a moment, holding her there and caressing her back. She found herself giggling stupidly as she often did after an orgasm.

    “Thanks, I needed that,” said Gabby as she slowly withdrew from him.

    “Get that little ass over here,” said Chaz with a playful slap as she walked around the bed to grab a shirt.

    “I’m hungry,” she said and left him and his blue balls staring after her.

    Extrait de Gabriella Cross, Tome 2: Cross The Line
  • Chapter 1

    Nora was out here because the baker’s wife couldn’t keep her mouth shut. Here, under the windswept trees. Here, on this hillock poised so neatly above the vast Plains she was tempted to believe the gods had created it to show off the horizon. The possibilities. The unfinished world to come. Nora stood with her brother at the brink of the Plains, in the wet, cold, gathering dark. It would take two days’ journey on foot to get back to the Ridge, and half a day to the nearest homestead. But after Mother Sara’s death, the twins were four years away from anyone caring.

    The sky was tall. A huge crest of waves headed inland, shading the last of the sunlight in hues of orange and gray and purple. On clear days when the wind swept away the clouds, herding them over the Plains, Nora could just make out the line of the Crest Mountains in the distance. The Plains were a vast, flat bowl. Sometimes, when the summer sun shone down, the silver streams of water sparkled like jewels strewn among the green. It was pure pasture ground. Now, though, no herds of sheep roamed on the Plains. There were no trees, no roads, no shelter but little flocks of trees leaning against the wind. The long Plains were spoiled with space. You could see nothing but grass for miles and miles. And the sky. The ever-changing sky.

    Crossing the Plains would take nearly three weeks. Nora sniffed the air. The autumn had been mild so far, unusually so. But surely Owen had no plans of actually crossing. It would be madness in the gathering winter, without enough warmth or shelter or food. They should sneak back home and at least stock up on provisions and warmer clothing. Maybe the clouds would bring more than rain this night. Maybe frost in the morning.

    Her twin brother stood silhouetted before the glorious sky, unmoving, the high collar of his long cloak pulled up to his cheekbones. He turned when she threw down her backpack on the hard ground. Here the brown grass was undergoing its winter death. There was moss under the trees at the edge of the forest. As fine a place as any. They would camp here. And tonight, she’d talk to Owen. If she let him do the deciding, their bones would still be perched on this damned hillock before he reached a conclusion.

    “It’s been two days. You want to go back already?” Owen said, watching the rolling sky before him.

    Nora scowled.

    Extrait de The Living Blade, Tome 1: Touch of Iron
  • "Quand viendras-tu nous voir à Verdon? m'a-t-elle demandé en partant. Tu peux venir à cheval jusqu'au manoir, avec Lady Judith.

    -Je demanderai à Lord Stephen s'il veut bien.

    -Moi je vais lui dire que je veux que tu viennes me voir, a-t-elle répliqué. Dis, Arthur, tu sais, ce que tu écris...

    -Oui eh bien?

    -Ce que tu écris quand tu écris ce que tu veux...

    -Oui, et alors?

    -Tu écriras sur moi, dis ?"

    Extrait de Arthur, Tome 2 : Arthur à la croisée des chemins
  • « It was hard enough just being in his presence and looking at him. Now that she wasn’t in his arms anymore, she had the disadvantage of actually getting an eyeful of the man, shirtless and sun-bronzed and smiling at her with his hair dripping wet from the river. Flood and fire, couldn’t he find a shirt to put on? Every time he moved, she could see the play of muscles across his arms and chest. It was all she could do not to stare. »

    Extrait de Coalition of Mages, tome 1 : The Seer incendies

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