I have no idea if it is part of the dream, a hallucination, or reality. It talks of children, bringing news of a girl called Grace who loves me very much and a new baby boy called Freddie, who apparently needs me to get better... It stirs a part of me, even in my coma, reminding me that I'm thirty-eight and in love with the most beautiful woman in the world. It tells me that one third of me is gone but what's left is enough; that the thing is, above all, to survive.' When Tom Ray put his young daughter to bed one chilly December evening, he had everything he could ever want - the house of his dreams, a beautiful wife and a second baby on the way. By the next morning all of this was in jeopardy as Tom succumbed to the devastating illness that is sepsis.Starfish tells Tom and Nic Ray's truly inspirational story of their life before, during and after the illness which claimed Tom's lower arms, legs, and a portion of his face. Heart-breakingly honest and affecting, their story charts the devastating effects of Tom's illness, Nic's heroic struggle to cope and, ultimately, the love and hope that has held their family together in the ensuing years. A tragic yet beautiful tale of a couple whose love is tested to its limit after their perfect life falls apart in a single moment.

    I lived through and beyond horrific child abuse. This book tells of my brutal beginnings, starting when I was only four years old when my mother went in to hospital to have baby number three. My clothing was stripped off by my father, who hung me upside down naked on a hook on the inside of a cupboard door by the ankles. He beat me with his huge hands, then only took me down once I stopped screaming. He then plunged me into a pre prepared bath full of cold water, where I almost drowned. Even although he was holding me under the water, and I was thrashing about and fighting my young life, I could hear my drunken father laughing at me. My abuse and ridicule follows me through my school years, and has a major impact on my mental health. My family grew until I had six siblings all living with me in a two bedroom cottage. I was never acknowledged as a son by my violent father, I was the outcast, the one who brought shame to the family, and I was the devils child. This is the true story of a childhood lost, and the struggles to overcome the mental anguish afflicted on me throughout my young life. This story will take the reader on a painful journey as I move with my siblings around Scotland, from house to house, and school to school, always just evading the authorities who could have helped me. This story leaves nothing to the readers’ imagination. There are some lighter moments throughout the book which will make the reader laugh, but my story will make you wonder how I survived, and what does happen behind closed doors. Even although I am now over 60 years old, I often sometimes mourn my stolen childhood, it is like a limb has been pulled off, I can feel where it was supposed to be but it is just not there, it is a part of me which I will never get back, it was taken away without my consent and is now lost forever. Sometimes it just hits me out of nowhere, an overwhelming sadness and emptiness rushes over me. I get disheartened and I feel hopeless, sad, and hurt, and once again I feel numb to the world.

    But the wonderful development, however, in a few months, of a large, heterogeneous collection of men into a solid, keen, self-sacrificing unit, was but another instance of the way in which war improves the character and temperament of man. It was entirely new for men who were formerly in a regiment, full of traditions, to find themselves in the[...].

    You may find it for free on the web. Purchase of the Kindle edition includes wireless delivery.

    The autobiography of the most troubled footballer of modern times.

    Moore-Shaver, with her husband and children, spent ten years in the Alaskan bush where they lived a simple but satisfying lifestyle with all the attendant challenges and adventures. She and her family lived in the Interior of Alaska where winter temperature drop as low as -60 degrees or more and stay there for weeks on end. The summers are three months long, and everything must be done during that short season to prepare for the following winter. She tells of encounters with bears, surviving spring floods, and setting her husband's broken leg while looking at a first-aid book. Her desire to learn the skills of bush life led her to tan moose hides, catch fish in nets, snare rabbits for dinner, and much more, most of which was learned through trial and error. The average contact with others was about every three months when a friend might fly out to visit and maybe bring mail. Loneliness was never a problem, says the author, but it was exciting to see someone after a long stretch of isolation. Growing up near Boston, Massachusetts, hardly prepared Ms. Moore-Shaver for such a rough and primitive life, but her love of nature and her interest in learning all she could about this back-to-basics way of life come through in the pages of her book. She tells her story just as it happened and includes journal entries she made at the time.

    The sixty-four Companions presented here are representative of that unique generation, a generation without any parallel in history. They come from all walks of life and character. These are stories of real people which can be historically verified. These stories will touch the souls of believers, for they will find in them yet another proof of that conviction that fills their hearts, though it may be denied and its signs effaced by wielders of power in the Muslim lands through treachery and cowardice.

    For six straight months after Peterson's arrest, Dalton was the defense's only full-time investigative attorney on the case. During that time, he lived in Modesto and investigated every element of the case, interviewing scores of witnesses, reviewing more than 35,000 pages of police documents, and meeting almost daily with Scott Peterson in jail.What he has uncovered will astound even the most informed observers of the Laci Peterson murder case and challenge the most deeply held beliefs about what really happened to Laci Peterson on Christmas Eve, 2002.This is the first book to go inside the Peterson defense team, and the only book to detail all the evidence that the jury did not hear -- evidence that might have led to Scott Peterson's acquittal, and that will surely play a crucial part in his pending appeals.Among the revelations in Presumed Guilty: Reports from numerous witnesses who saw Laci Peterson alive and well the morning of December 24, after the police claim Scott Peterson had already killed her; none of them testified at trial The story of another woman, eight months pregnant, who was harassed by two men the morning of December 24 only five blocks from the Peterson home The burglary that reportedly occurred directly across the street from the Peterson home on the morning of December 24, and the confessed burglars' questionable claims that the burglary happened days later Previously unreported details of the autopsy reports on Laci Peterson and her son, which cast strong doubts on key elements of the prosecution's case Thedisappearances of six pregnant women, in addition to Laci, reported missing and presumed dead within eighty miles of Modesto between 1999 and 2002Compelling, provocative, disturbing, Presumed Guilty is the fascinating story of one lawyer's relentless efforts to find the truth behind one of the most complex and notorious murder cases in American history.

    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.

    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’

    (Have you read it? Of course you have. You must have. Why else would you be here?) Anyway, it was so good that I cried when it was finished. Okay, I might have made that up. The crying part, I mean. I didn’t really cry. Instead, I followed Ma around the house and said “Please can I read book 2? Please can I read book 2? Please can I read book 2?” nine-hundred and twenty-one times. What’s that? Yes, thank you, that is a remarkable achievement, isn’t it? Yes, Ma’s very proud of me. Anyway, so now you’re wondering if the second Reggie book is as good as the first Reggie book, right? Well, let’s just say you may not own enough underpants to get through this one. Seriously. *Every Monday at school, Reggie writes an essay that begins with “On the weekend…” WARNING: It’s possible he’s not kidding about the underpants thing*

    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'.