And when he comes home from National Service to be a policeman, Marion, a newly qualified teacher, is determined to win him. Unable to acknowledge the signs that something is amiss, she plunges into marriage, sure that her love is enough for both of them...But Tom has another life, another equally overpowering claim on his affections. Patrick, a curator at the Brighton Museum, is also besotted with his policeman, and opens Tom's eyes to a world previously unknown to him. But in an age when those of 'minority status' were condemned by society and the law, it is safer for this policeman to marry his teacher. The two lovers must share him, until one of them breaks and three lives are destroyed.Unfolding through the dual narratives of Marion and Patrick, both writing about the man at the centre of their lives, this beautifully-told, painful, tragic story is revealed.It is a tale of wasted years, misguided love and thwarted hope, of how at a time when the country was on the verge of change so much was still impossible.Bethan Roberts has produced an intense and exquisitely raw yet tender novel, which proves her to be one of our most exciting young writers.

    Thrust into the closed society that is seventeenth-century Japan, a land where the line between life and death is razor-thin, Blackthorne must negotiate not only a foreign people, with unknown customs and language, but also his own definitions of morality, truth, and freedom. As internal political strife and a clash of cultures lead to seemingly inevitable conflict, Blackthorne's loyalty and strength of character are tested by both passion and loss, and he is torn between two worlds that will each be forever changed.Powerful and engrossing, capturing both the rich pageantry and stark realities of life in feudal Japan, Shōgun is a critically acclaimed powerhouse of a book. Heart-stopping, edge-of-your-seat action melds seamlessly with intricate historical detail and raw human emotion. Endlessly compelling, this sweeping saga captivated the world to become not only one of the best-selling novels of all time but also one of the highest-rated television miniseries, as well as inspiring a nationwide surge of interest in the culture of Japan. Shakespearean in both scope and depth, Shōgun is, as the New York Times put it, "...not only something you read--you live it." Provocative, absorbing, and endlessly fascinating, there is only one: Shōgun.

    But once Craig aces his way into Manhattan's Executive Pre-Professional High School, the pressure becomes unbearable. He stops eating and sleeping until, one night, he nearly kills himself.Craig's suicidal episode gets him checked into a mental hospital, where his new neighbors include a transsexual sex addict, a girl who has scarred her own face with scissors, and the self-elected President Armelio. There, Craig is finally able to confront the sources of his anxiety.Ned Vizzini, who himself spent time in a psychiatric hospital, has created a remarkably moving tale about the sometimes unexpected road to happiness.

    But when he sets out to find the author's other works, he makes a shocking discovery: someone has been systematically destroying every copy of every book Carax has written. In fact, Daniel may have the last of Carax's books in existence. Soon Daniel's seemingly innocent quest opens a door into one of Barcelona's darkest secrets--an epic story of murder, madness, and doomed love.--back cover

    There are no granny panties in this drawer!He picks up a pair of my NASA engineered favourites and insisted, "These are granny panties."No they are not!" I protested, "Granny panties are cotton, with flowers all over them and come up to your armpits." I grabbed my daily favourites out of his hand, "These are a modern-day wonder! They hide years of not doing sit-ups every day, cellulite dimples, Big Macs with extra sauce and muffin belly! My grandmother never had panties like this!"Call them what you want. They are modern-day granny panties" he informs me.Putting them back in the drawer I thought, "I would have to join a gym if I ever gave these beauties up."Anyway it got me to thinking. So I made a visit to a lingerie store. Maybe my underwear drawer did need some updating.The walls of the store were lined with massive posters of girls who don't eat so they can wear lace without tummy control panels. Looking at their photo-shopped abs didn't inspire me to drop to the floor and do a hundred sit-ups it just made me want to hold them down and force feed them hamburgers.The 20 something sales girl came over with her size 0 figure and asked if I needed help. "I am looking to update my underwear drawer" I tell her, "I am looking for something that is comfortable but... sexy." I know in her head she's thinking "Sex at her age! Wow good for her!"First she shows me the wall of underwear designed to turn on perverts. "No, that's not what I am looking for" and we move along to the "School girl" underwear to turn on pedophiles. "That's not me either" I tell her. Then she shows me the "new" line just in that week with the red or black fur around the waistband. "Doesn't that show through your dress pants?" I ask her. "Oh, you don't wear anything over these ones." That ought to make my work day more interesting I thought to myself.Then she brings out the most dreaded, torturous devise knows to woman... the G-String!I tried a pair once and I looked like a summo wrestler. Even I laughed when I looked in the mirror. It brought back a memory to me. I was doing a two-day course at university. Before the course started the students were standing around the back of the class chatting and getting to know one another. I met this lovely lady who told me she was 60-years-old and was doing the course out of interest. When it was time to sit down, she sat in front of me and to my horror she was wearing low-cut jeans that revealed a tattooed pair of eyes above her butt cheeks but the worst part, she was wearing a silver thong.It was like a car crash, I couldn't look away. For seven hours the droopy eyes on her butt watched me, staring at me, scarring me for life. Every time she put up her hand to ask a question her hips shifted and her butt winked at me. The sliver G-string thread around her waist looked like a disco Hippie headband. I would never be able to look at a G-string without thinking of her butt eye balling me."I don't do fanny-floss" I told her. I need something comfortable. "Maybe you should go to Walmart" she says. "Maybe you should go to hell" I thought in my head.With her sales commission still in my wallet, I left and called hubby from my cell phone in the car."Ok I am willing to compromise. Wh