When her wagon train was 8 miles from Fort Laramie, Wyoming, a Sioux Oglalas war party, in war-paint, suddenly appeared and began to encircle their wagons, pretending to be most friendly and asking for presents. The Indians urged the emigrants on, and offered to accompany them, so that they pushed on in company for a short time, until it was saw that they were approaching a ravine where his party would be at a disadvantage, and he insisted on camping outside of it. The Indians, after some hesitation, agreed, and the travellers began to make preparations for supper, when suddenly the Indians fired a volley at them. Some of those who escaped the attack succeeded in hiding in the brushwood, but Mrs. Kelly and her adopted daughter, Mary, as well as Mrs. Larimer and her children, became the prisoners of the Indians. After the second night of capture, Larimer and her son Frank managed to escape and were later reunited with her husband at Camp Collins, Colorado Territory. Larimer wrote of her harrowing captivity and escape in her 1871 book "The Capture and Escape: Life Among the Sioux." In describing dangers encountered during their escape from the Indians, Larimer noted: "The horrors of our situation were harassing to contemplate. The wolves seemed congregated upon the highlands, and, awaking from their night’s repose, their wailing cries echoed back from the distant hills with terrific clearness. These prowling creatures abound in that country, where some species attain a great size. Even the buffalo, which does not fear them in the herd, knows his danger when overtaken alone; and the solitary bull, secreted from its hunter, succumbs before the united force of a gang of wolves." Sarah Luse Larimer (1836-1913) was born in Pennsylvania, headed west in 1859 with her husband, living for a while in Allen County, Kansas, where she operated a photographic gallery. In 1864, along with her husband and son the family set out for the mines of Idaho Territory, when their plans were disrupted by Oglalas on the warpath. John Bratt in his 1921 book "Trails of Yesterday" writes of Larimer: "At Sherman Station I became well acquainted with Mrs. Larimer and her son, who kept a general store there, bought and sold ties and cord wood, while her husband had a star route mail contract from Point of Rocks north. There was also a Mrs. Kelly living near the station. These two women and Mrs. Larimer's son had been captured by the Sioux Indians near Fort Laramie. Mrs. Larimer and her son, after two weeks' captivity in the lodge of the chief, stole away one night and though the Indians hunted them day and night, they succeeded in eluding them and got back to the fort, after suffering unmentionable cruelties. Mrs. Kelly, not so fortunate, was taken by the Indians up on the Missouri River and kept with the band over six months." In describing the moment of rescue by a passing wagon train, Larimer writes that "as we sat in this shelter, which proved to be the last, a most joyful and welcome sound greeted our ears —one in which there was no mistake—our own language, spoken by some boys who passed, driving cattle."

    Simon's self-sufficient rural life is an inspiration to us all' - Ben Fogle Following a drunken misunderstanding Simon Dawson gave up his job in the city, moved to the wilds of Exmoor and became an accidental self-sufficient smallholder with an array of animals. But that was years ago now. Following up on his first book, PIGS IN CLOVER, this is the story of what happens when he suddenly realises that his life is changing all over again. He's not quite the spring chicken that he used to be: he is, horror of horrors, getting older.With a cast of best friends (some more helpful than others) including Ziggy, a panicked soon-to-be father desperate to grow up, Garth, an annoying teenager, and a rather handsome pig called The General, a plan is hatched to help each other mature (or immature). Heartfelt discoveries and hilarious endeavours ensue as they work through their age-related angsts, all with a fair dose of pigs, chickens, lambs and animal madness along the way. This is Exmoor's uplifting laugh-out-loud antidote to middle age in the mud; a place where you truly realise that the sty's the limit!

    Franklin Evans had watched every war movie John Wayne ever made, sometimes several times over. When the “Duke” led his men, war was exciting and heroes were made as they ruggedly fought and predictably won each battle. But when Evans’ high school friend and real-life hero Glenn was killed in Vietnam, war became real and personal for Evans, and he felt a tremendous obligation to the buddy who gave his life in that faraway jungle. At the tender age of nineteen, Evans voluntarily enlisted in the U.S. Army and left for basic training in early December of 1966. Before long, he was deeply entrenched in a treacherous war, far removed from his innocent and carefree youth. He had to learn not only to survive but also to muster the bravery to lead others in combat as he was thrust from adolescence into adulthood. It has taken Evans more than thirty-five years to begin to heal the physical and emotional wounds that kept him from sharing his intensely personal story. From his depiction of the picturesque aerial view of Cam Rahn Bay to that of the barbed wire, metal planking, and squat huts housing weapons of death and destruction, Evans’s Stand To …provides a vividly detailed glimpse into what it was like to become a man on the battlefields of Vietnam.

    Fresh out of commercial art school, Hamilton moves from Los Angeles to Las Vegas with her boyfriend to join the newly-formed Las Vegas International Circus. When that job doesn’t “fly” she experiences a series of short-term jobs in order to save enough money to move back to LA. But the MGM Grand Hotel, the world’s largest hotel/casino is scheduled to open, and Hamilton, who was also a former Playboy Bunny, is hired as a cocktail waitress. She subsequently marries her boyfriend, a former undercover ATF officer now District Court bailiff, who is later revealed to be a bigamist. Hamilton quickly learns the ways of the casino world. Along with several of her fellow workers, she battles sexual pressure from bartenders and the machinations of unscrupulous casino bosses who resent the tips players give to cocktail waitresses. A city-wide Las Vegas Culinary Union strike in 1974 proves to be an eye-opening political event that none of the cocktail waitresses view seriously. This is a highly personal and quite entertaining account of 3 years in a young woman’s life. Several of the author’s personal photos are included. The seventies were an era of change and Hamilton faced them all: drugs, alcohol, sex and women’s liberation. Carolyn V. Hamilton names real names, real places, and real events. These true stories show keen insight into casino life in the Las Vegas of the 1970s. Here’s what advance reviews say about COMING TO LAS VEGAS: “Honestly told and forthcoming.” “Hamilton reveals the seamy and steamy side of America’s Sin City. It’s a wild ride of time, place, and opportunity and she tells the story in a most compelling and engaging fashion.” "A brilliant look at behind the glitter of Las Vegas.” “Funny, poignant and disarmingly honest, her stories kept me turning pages well into the night.” “Really enjoyed the MGM Grand cast of characters, the colorful clothing styles and all the ‘juicy’ details.” “Hamilton takes readers on a fun, fast-paced, and sexy romp through 1970’s Las Vegas. Hang on to your chips! This is quite a ride.” “An astonishingly good read.” “Lots of humor and laughs, too.”

    The home was unkempt and rubbish was littered all over the floor. Dirty nappies were piled up in a corner of the room, which made the room have an awful stench. None of Jacksons bottles were being sterilised before use, and the water that was to make up the formula was tap water….straight from the tap and unboiled."

    And it is every mother’s worst nightmare.Ex-Casualty actress, Rebekah was just 34 years old and 7 months pregnant when she found a lump in her breast. After twice being examined by doctors and having been told that it was nothing to worry about, Rebekah pushed it from her mind and concentrated on the birth of her beautiful daughter, Gigi. But one night, whilst nursing her baby, Rebekah realised she could still feel the lump. And it was bigger.Finally, her worst fears were confirmed: just 10 weeks after giving birth, Rebekah was told that she had a fast-growing grade-three cancer and it had spread to her lymph glands. It was the beginning of a journey to hell and back and Rebekah embarked on the fight of her life.This isn’t just a book about the horror of cancer.It is about facing illness with humour and courageIt’s a celebration of the special, unbreakable bond between mothers and daughters. It’s about survival.

    When you think about the kind of guy you are going to marry, a Romany living in an old caravan does not normally come to mind! Can't think why, can you?! So, there I was. 19 years old and fed up with 'normal' guys who only wanted one thing. Yep you guessed it! But then.... along comes this guy, tall, skinny, bad hair, ugly/handsome..... did I say bad hair? Oh yes! And that was just the beginning! But little did I know that he was a gypsy! Oh boy! Gypsies and gorgi's don't mix.....do they? I was about to find out! Honest, raw, colourful, and downright hilarious! Based on the true story of Nell Rose Loveridge and Jake her gypsy rover!

    These memoirs take him from enjoying the odd cold beer sailing peacefully across the Indian Ocean to being trapped in a war zone. Here he sees life at sea changing from the leisurely days of general cargoes to the hectic computerised containerships. He seems to have done it all – rescuing drug runners from the ice, dredging aggregates in the North Sea and finally skippering a ‘steamer’ on a tranquil lake. This volume is the second of Bob’s memoirs covering his service as master on a wide variety of ships. The first book ‘I think I’ll go to sea’ relates to his experiences climbing up through the ranks. In this book he has to flee the USA to avoid arrest for drug smuggling, assists rescuing a ship’s crew when their ship sinks in pack ice and gets stuck in the middle of the Iraq/Iran war. He also experiences alcohol free ships which take away the pleasure of his ‘cold beer’

    Lots of laughs and tears are part of the job. Combat, test flying and, as the title implies, high risk. A Silver Star recipient, much of my OV-10 combat time was in Laos. Started with the F-100 in Europe and finished my career as test director to make the F-100 a target.

    Life was no bed of roses. The Bernardinis stayed in a room and kitchen, where young Walter slept in the bed recess in the front room. His Mum and Dad, meanwhile, had a 'hole-in-the-wall' bed in the kitchen. There was no bath, only one downstairs toilet shared by two other families. Glaswegians in those days may not have had much money, but they made up for the lack of material possessions with a real live of life. There was never a dull moment, at home, on the streets or at school. In this compelling book, the author fondly reminisces about first footing, wedding scrambles, winchin' in the close, nights at the pictures, the trams, trips with the Scouts, wartime evacuation and much more. It is a scintillating slice of social history, full of warmth and humour. For the sake of his career, Walter Bernardini eventually left Scotland, taking his wife and family with him. Yet he has never forgotten the city of his birth, the place that shaped him, the place he still thinks of as home. These were truly his dear old Glasgow years'.

    

    

    And Rain of Gold is possibly his finest work -- a sweeping tableau of family ties and cultural traditions.pA pair of strong families, two proud but embattled lineages, find themselves bound together by time and circumstance. Through political upheavals, loves gained and lives lost, the families struggle to keep what is precious to them. This premise would make a mesmerizing novel -- but this story is all true.p"A great love story...magnificent." (Albuquerque Journal)

    Financially we were afloat and we lived in a perfectly decent house until my wife came up with the zany idea of living on a boat. I'd just got home from work, via the pub, when Jan asked me to watch a video while she prepared our frugal meal. I watched a pair of old fogies trundling along a canal in the rain on a narrowboat. You can imagine my reply when she asked if I fancied emulating the sodden wrinklies and taking to the water. She's a lady of vision and determination (she married me after all) but this was elevating madness to a whole new level. Jan's oncologist had her a few years previously that she probably wouldn't see the new millennium, so she had a different perspective about the future than many people. Despite lots of huffing and head-shaking, twelve months later we had sold a perfectly respectable house, given up a job that kept us in cornflakes and moved onto a metal hole less than a tenth the size of our house – excluding garden. It was the 4th July 2003 – independence day.We knew nothing about narrowboats – their workings, waterways lore and how we would cope being cooped up together – particularly when it's minus five and the nearest shop is miles away. We had a mountain to climb – which you can only do by using locks, and we'd never done a lock. A more accurate analogy is shooting the rapids because our venture took on a life of it's own and we were washed down stream on a tide of enthusiasm and ignorance. We had to make it work or the people who had laughed and scoffed would be proved right – we really were mad. Well, make it work we did, and we're still boating twelve years on. It's marvellous and it possibly saved Jan's life.