The Moving Type

It was hard to imagine that the post-apocalyptic world that only existed in the movies had suddenly become reality in the city of Matana. With the Budlyt-19 virus continuing to spread, leading pharmaceutical companies battle for the antidote and the wealth they would be rewarded with in return. Little did Nadia know she would unwillingly be entangled in the pharmaceutical corruption of LithLabs after receiving cryptic messages from an anonymous source. Taken against her own will, Nadia becomes the test subject of a gruelling medical trial and is injected with a deep purple dose of Budlyt-19. Friends turn to foes, loyalty turns to betrayal, and antidote turns to obsession in a capitalist pursuit of Matana. Will Nadia ever escape the hands of corruption? Or will the color purple stay true to its meaning of wealth, power, and ambition for the corrupt? The Moving Type has achieved a milestone as the official World Record holder for the most contributions to a published work of fiction. Unique in storyline and creation, this book project was written and illustrated by over 100 contributors from around the globe. Created in the midst of a global pandemic, the strongest chapters were born from the toughest times. Devika Sharma, creator of The Moving Type.

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The Impact Of Words

This is a story which shows how appearances can be deceiving and how one should always analyze and question things around them in an attempt to know and realize the hidden truth, searching beneath the surface.

‘Those who hold flowers always remain fragrant.’

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Tales Of The Twins

Life is more than the physical objects around us. Life is full of magic. If you believe in magic, you will create it. If you believe in miracles, you will have one. Imagination is one of the blessings that God gave us. Using this blessing or not is your choice. With imagination people created what others thought impossible. 200 years ago, life was different. They had nothing of what we have here nowadays. But with imagination, world development became faster than ever.

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Suite 55

*RIVETING    * UNPUTDOWNABLE    *COMPELLING

A female investigative journalist is murdered in a posh hotel overlooking the Nile, in upscale Zamalek, Cairo. Two seasoned investigators, Maged and Assem, lock horns but must race against the clock to find her killer before New Year’s Eve. Camillia, the main witness, is hiding a crucial piece of evidence. A nefarious international drug cartel, led by a psychotic Albanian drug-lord, is wreaking havoc in the city with a new lethal hallucinogen. This cartel will stop at nothing to succeed… even murdering some of their own members.

Several characters are playing both sides.

It is a deadly battleground of covert intelligence.

Who will ultimately perish and who will survive?

Maged was taken aback by what he saw in the huge basement and realized why they referred to this location as ‘The Bunker’. In contrast to the old historic façade of the downtown Cairo mansion, he was now looking at the most advanced wall-to-wall, state-of-the-art, satellite and surveillance equipment. He looked at agent Rawan in amazement as she walked towards the satellite screens, which were beaming footage from across the world, in real time.

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Sophie's World

“Luckily, the parking lot only deleted footage every three months because of the relatively heavy flow of tourism that took place at Cramond Ghost Island during the summer months. The old man in charge of the parking lot security cameras asked us why we needed the footage. Ethan told him that I met someone there at noon on a Saturday in July and that the police needed to verify that this meeting took place on that date.

     The old man had to review footage of the four Saturdays in July. He grumbled as he escorted us to a small viewing room at the rear end of the parking lot. Ethan and I sat down next to the old man as he began his search. He rolled back to the first Saturday at noon but found nothing. The second Saturday also showed nothing. On the third Saturday, my car appeared in the footage as I parked in between two cars at exactly twelve o’clock in the afternoon. The man kept the film rolling for me for another half an hour. Andy’s car never appeared.”

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