Genres

Malta

Lists

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by J.K. Rowling

The Queen's Library: Best of the Commonwealth

743 books — 231 voters

Welcome to the Sombre Days by Jeremy Mifsud

Maltese LGBTQIA+ Books

51 books — 5 voters

Frankenstein by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley

Let the Right One In by John Ajvide Lindqvist

The Years of Rice and Salt by Kim Stanley Robinson

The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov

SF & F Atlas - Europe

89 books — 10 voters

De eenzaamheid van de priemgetallen by Paolo Giordano

De tijgerkat by Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa

Nederlandse vertalingen van Italiaanse en Maltese literatuur

106 books — 10 voters

Blood, Steel and Reputation by James Gault

The Great Siege of Malta by Charles River Editors

An Illustrated History of the Knights Hospitaller by Stephen Dafoe

Knights Hospitaller - Order of St. John

25 books — 5 voters

A Coney Island of the Mind by Lawrence Ferlinghetti

Couldn't Have a Wedding without the Fiddler by Ken Perlman

The Great Gods of Samothrace and The Cult of the Little People by Carl A.P. Ruck

Sons for the Return Home by Albert Wendt

Isla Bonitas

223 books — 4 voters

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“ He had panicked. Tessier cursed his own stupidity. He should have remained in the column where he would have been protected. Instead, he saw an enemy coming for him like a revenant rising from a dark tomb, and had run first instead of thinking. Except this was no longer a French stronghold. The forts had all been captured and surrendered and the glorious revolutionary soldiers had been defeated. If the supply ships had made it through the blockade, Vaubois might still have been able to defend t He had panicked. Tessier cursed his own stupidity. He should have remained in the column where he would have been protected. Instead, he saw an enemy coming for him like a revenant rising from a dark tomb, and had run first instead of thinking. Except this was no longer a French stronghold. The forts had all been captured and surrendered and the glorious revolutionary soldiers had been defeated. If the supply ships had made it through the blockade, Vaubois might still have been able to defend the city, but with no food, limited ammunition and disease rampant, defeat was inevitable. Tessier remembered the gut-wrenching escape from Fort Dominance where villagers spat at him and threw rocks. One man had brought out a pistol and the ball had slapped the air as it passed his face. Another man had chased him with an ancient boar spear and Tessier, exhausted from the fight, had jumped into the water. He had nearly drowned in that cold grey sea, only just managing to cling to a rock whilst the enemy searched the shoreline. The British warship was anchored outside the village, and although Tessier could see men on-board, no one had spotted him. Hours passed by. Then, when he considered it was clear, he swam ashore to hide in the malodorous marshland outside Mġarr. His body shivered violently and his skin was blue and wrinkled like withered fruit, but in the night-dark light he lived. He had crept to a fishing boat, donned a salt-stained boat cloak and rowed out to Malta's monochrome coastline. He had somehow managed to escape capture by abandoning the boat to swim into the harbour. From there it had been easy to climb the city walls and to safety. He had written his account of the marines ambush, the fort’s surrender and his opinion of Chasse, to Vaubois. Tessier wanted Gamble cashiered and Vaubois promised to take his complaint to the senior British officer when he was in a position to. Weeks went past. Months. A burning hunger for revenge changed to a desire for provisions. And until today, Tessier reflected that he would never see Gamble again. Sunlight twinkled on the water, dazzling like a million diamonds scattered across its surface. Tessier loaded his pistol in the shadows where the air was still and cool. He had two of them, a knife and a sword, and, although starving and crippled with stomach cramps, he would fight as he had always done so: with everything he had. ...more ”
― David Cook, Heart of Oak

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“ Between the palaces of the knights and those that served them; the convents, the elegant homes belonging to officers of the Church and the town; between the bakehouse and the shops of the craftsmen, the arsenals and magazines, the warehouses, the homes of merchants and courtesans, Italian, Spanish, Greek; past the painted shrines and courtyards scraped from pockets of earth with their bright waxy green carob trees, a fig, a finger of vine, a blue and orange pot of dry, dying flowers and a tether ...more ”
― Dorothy Dunnett, The Disorderly Knights

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