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'.

    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!

    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.

    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."

    

    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.

    Chris tells the remarkable story of the magazine, from the tatty rag produced in his Newcastle bedroom to becoming one of the bestselling magazines in the UK.Chris was the creator of many of the characters and was responsible for all the magazine’s written content. Characters from the magazine, such as Sid the Sexist and the Fat Slags, are now household names.This is an engaging tale told in Chris’s unique, wry way. Chris takes us from his train-spotting childhood in the ’70s through to setting up the magazine with family and friends, and struggling to sell even a few copies of Viz in the local pub. The comic’s success swiftly grew, however, and remarkable events ensued, such as how Chris was invited to tea by Prince Charles, taken in for questioning by New Scotland Yard's Anti-Terrorist Branch and caught his wife up to no good with Keith Richards in Peter Cook's attic.Chris includes many original drawings in this integrated book as well as some fascinating images of early Viz creations.

    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.

    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’

    

    It was a dream that would lead him into a nightmare of sexual and physical abuse from which he has still not recovered. Stewart was abused every day for four years by his junior football coach. He suffered in silence and embarked on a successful career that saw him play for Manchester City, Tottenham Hotspur, Liverpool and Sunderland, scoring in an FA Cup final and winning caps for England. Behind it all, he was a broken man – many times he wished he could end his life. He turned to drink and drugs as a way of coping with his devastating secret. In 2016, Stewart was sitting at his office desk one morning when he read a Daily Mirror story about a footballer who had been abused. His world was about to change… Paul Stewart: Damaged is one of the most powerful and emotionally charged football life stories you will read.

    In his very personal account, Bttger relates in a sober and realistic manner the fighting and experiences on and behind the front. He details his involvement in battles across Europe in honest terms. He describes vividly the cruelty and senselessness of war, along with the injustices and irritations of army life. The author was by no means a hero: he admits that he volunteered for the Wehrmacht to avoid sitting his school leaving exams (but obtain his Abitur leaving certificate). He also concedes that he lied about his health in an attempt to avoid being sent to the Eastern Front and was determined to stay alive at all cost.The book features almost 200 photographs taken by the author during the war and includes images taken in action.

    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.

    That young soldier, Albert Edward Clack, was my father.The first part of this book covers his capture near Dunkirk in 1940 and his nearly five years in the Stalag VIIIB prisoner-of-war camp. For most of this time he endured forced labour and occasional beatings in a coal mine.The second part relates his escape from the ‘March of Death’, when the Germans forced prisoners-of-war to trudge westwards through snow and ice in January, 1945. After giving his guards the slip, he was assisted out of harm’s way by front-line storm-troopers of the Red Army.Criss-crossing Poland amidst the chaos of the Soviet advance and the German retreat, he and three other escaped prisoners found refuge with Polish families, until they were put on a train to the Ukrainian port of Odessa, there to board a ship home to England.When Dad died in 1984, he left me the manuscript of this true story. I have changed some names because, even if they were still alive, it would be extremely difficult to find them 70 years later; and I have improved the literary style for ease of reading; but I have altered none of the substance of the events described. Please note that it is a short book.I had always felt proud of what Dad did in the War; but it was not until later in life that I truly appreciated how much being able to live a normal family life in freedom afterwards must have meant to him after the long years of fear and uncertainty that he endured as a POW; and it is only through editing this manuscript that I have come to realise quite what a nightmare that experience must have been, despite the optimism which rings through his text.Albert John Clack - Son & Editor

    Silky Milky likes to leave the refrigerator to hang out with his friends: Cookie Rookie and the three cereals, Funch, Hunch and Crunch. Read this fun and entertaining bedtime story now!