The scientist, Griffin, discovers a way to turn himself invisible and slowly succumbs to maddness while trying to find a way to undo the effects. The Invisible Man is still one of the most well known horror characters to this day. Enjoy this classic thrilling tale of scientific discovery, insanity, and murder by H.G. Wells.This classic science fiction has been enhanced for modern reflowable ebook readers.

H. G. Wells' A Modern Utopia is a fusion of fiction and philosophy. In it Wells' explores his ideas for social change, the creation of a world state and of what would be needed to facilitate increases in overall human happiness. The people of this utopia have to plan for "a flexible common compromise, in which a perpetually novel succession of individualities may converge most effectually upon a comprehensive onward development." This is Wells' distinction from past conceptions of utopia, that its people aim to be Utopian and that they are essentially the same people that would exist in an ordinary society.As part of our mission to publish great works of literary fiction and nonfiction, Sheba Blake Publishing Corp. is extremely dedicated to bringing to the forefront the amazing works of long dead and truly talented authors.

The time traveller takes us on a journey into the future where we meet the Eloi, a society of small, elegant, childlike adults. The narrator is writing a story that has been verbally told to him, and the narrative has all the detail you might expect from a story told to you by a friend.

A man awakes from a 200 year coma and is immediately the centre of a popular revolution. And yet the utopian society of the future is not all it seems, and the sleeper must decide whether to continue living in a bubble of luxury, or to confront the dark side of the new society.

The Invisible Man, Griffin, a scientist who has devoted himself to research into optics and invents a way to becomes invisible. He successfully carries out this procedure on himself, but fails in his attempt to reverse the procedure. When he attempts to enlist the aid of former acquaintance, he is betrayed.

No one would have believed in the last years of the nineteenth century that this world was being watched keenly and closely by intelligences greater than man’s and yet as mortal as his own; that as men busied themselves about their various concerns they were scrutinised and studied, perhaps almost as narrowly as a man with a microscope might scrutinise the transient creatures that swarm and multiply in a drop of water. With infinite complacency men went to and fro over this globe about their little affairs, serene in their assurance of their empire over matter. It is possible that the infusoria under the microscope do the same. No one gave a thought to the older worlds of space as sources of human danger, or thought of them only to dismiss the idea of life upon them as impossible or improbable. It is curious to recall some of the mental habits of those departed days. At most terrestrial men fancied there might be other men upon Mars, perhaps inferior to themselves and ready to welcome a missionary enterprise. Yet across the gulf of space, minds that are to our minds as ours are to those of the beasts that perish, intellects vast and cool and unsympathetic, regarded this earth with envious eyes, and slowly and surely drew their plans against us.

The giant monster classic with a cover and interior illustrations by author and artist Wayne Kyle Spitzer You know that intermittent drowsing as one sits, the drooping of the head, the nodding to the rhythm of the wheels then chin upon the breast, and at once the sudden start up again. Pitter, litter, patter. “What was that?" It seemed to the doctor he had heard a thin shrill squeal close at hand. For a moment he was quite awake. He said a word or two of undeserved rebuke to his horse, and looked about him. He tried to persuade himself that he had heard the distant squeal of a fox—or perhaps a young rabbit gripped by a ferret. Swish, swish, swish, pitter, patter, swish— What was that? He felt he was getting fanciful. He shook his shoulders and told his horse to get on. He listened, and heard nothing. Or was it nothing? He had the queerest impression that something had just peeped over the hedge at him, a queer big head. With round ears! He peered hard, but he could see nothing. “Nonsense,” said he. He sat up with an idea that he had dropped into a nightmare, gave his horse the slightest touch of the whip, spoke to it and peered again over the hedge. The glare of his lamp, however, together with the mist, rendered things indistinct, and he could distinguish nothing. It came into his head, he says, that there could be nothing there, because if there was his horse would have shied at it. Yet for all that his senses remained nervously awake. Then he heard quite distinctly a soft pattering of feet in pursuit along the road.