It is isolating, painful, and confusing. Loneliness and longing are your reality. You’re consumed with guilt, self-deprecating inner dialogue, and worst of all, the fear of doing even the smallest thing wrong. You spend a lot of time alone…even when you’re not. You watch a lot of TV.Obviously, this is all your fault. Obviously, the reason you are living this way is because of something you did to warrant it. If they beat you, you deserved it. If they punish you, you asked for it. You never want to go home, but you don’t have a choice because you’ve never had a choice. This is it. This is what you have. This is all you know.And yet, you still smile when you sometimes catch a glimpse of the sweeter things and treasure the smallest kindness. Inside, you know life isn’t supposed to be like this, but it is. Your life is like a bubble of poison gas that could burst at any moment…you know that. You live that. But how are you supposed to make sense of any of this? How do you make it stop?You can’t.You are powerless.You haven’t even reached kindergarten yet.From a severely abusive childhood in the inner city of Baltimore, a string of unsatisfying relationships and several broken marriages, to a six-figure income from the multi-million dollar business I built out of my home, this is my story in my own words.I was stolen as a baby when my mother died. I was lied to by my kidnapper and used as a Cinderella punching bag by his never-ending parade of “step-mothers” and girlfriends, and much worse when he didn’t have one.This memoir covers the good, the bad, and the ugly.As this story unfolds, my hope is that you, the reader, will discover a little girl who survived that abusive childhood, healed, and empowered herself through discipline and hard work. I hope you see a girl who became a woman who learned from her mistakes and a whole human being who loves her newfound family with all her heart.I am no longer an outsider. I can go home now.

    Mumia Abu-Jamal was unanimously convicted of the crime by a racially mixed jury based on: the testimony of several eyewitnesses, his ownership of the murder weapon, matching ballistics, and Abu-Jamal’s own confession.After his conviction, however, a national anti-death penalty movement was started to “Free Mumia;” Mike Farrell, Ed Asner, Whoopi Goldberg, and Jesse Jackson rallied on his behalf, and led the charge.  For his part, while on death row, Abu-Jamal published several books, delivered radio commentaries, was a college commencement speaker, found himself named an Honorary Citizen of France, and had his defense coffers enhanced by ticket sales from a sold out (16,000-person) concert featuring Rage Against the Machine.Here, from Maureen Faulkner and acclaimed talk show host / journalist Michael Smerconish, is the first book to carefully and definitively lay out the case against Abu-Jamal, and those who’ve elevated him to the status of political prisoner. Smerconish, a lawyer, has provided pro bono legal counsel to Faulkner for over a decade and knows both the legal intricacies and personal subtleties of the case like no other person.  He’s personally acquainted himself with the more than five thousand pages of trial transcript.  “My reading starkly revealed that Abu-Jamal murdered Danny Faulkner in cold blood and that the case tried in Philadelphia in 1982 bore no resemblance to the one being home-cooked by the Abu-Jamal defense team.”As Abu-Jamal’s lawyers contemplate their final appeal, Faulkner and Smerconish weave a compelling, never-before-told account of one fateful night and the 25-year-long rewriting of history.

    

    The honest, entertaining and often surprising autobiography of one of our favourite Loose Women.

    They were happy times, but money was tight. Paddy slept on a mattress he dragged in from the street, and at 17 he struggled severely with the stress of juggling a college course and two jobs to support his beloved mum.But while cash may have been short, grit and wit were in over-supply, and this is the improbable true story of the lad who went from kipping in abandoned cars in Bolton to racing supercars on Top Gear, via laying concrete floors in prisons, a lively career in a leisure centre, a showbiz intervention by school pal Peter Kay and eye-popping adventures in the world of teledom.There has been mischief and misadventure, joy and sorry, huge success and unexpected challenges. It's a lifey well lived, and an unforgettable personal memoir written from the heart.

    She was a New Yorker, had just turned forty, and was about to put her youngest child in college. He was pushing 50 and relishing a sabbatical from his San Francisico law practice. Opposites attracted. A few weeks later they were engaged. A year later they were honeymooning on bicycles in Burgundy, after a wedding in a chapel at JFK. And after five years in San Francisco, they sold their house, quit their jobs and moved to Paris -- “permanently,” they said. For seven years their home was in a foreign country, in a foreign culture, bathed in a foreign language, on the rue des Marronniers in the 16th Arrondissement of the most beautiful city in the world. We Always Had Paris is the story of their adventure. It really happened. It is also a love story.

    And with G-d's help, he saved not only himself but also his parents and a host of friends, relatives, and strangers from almost certain death. If Ludvik Wieder's adventures were fiction, they would seem too contrived. But everything told is the unembellished truth. At the age of 26, Ludvik had it all—health, wealth, good looks, popularity, and a growing business in one of Europe's brightest capitals. Then, one dreadful Sunday in the spring of 1943, the Nazis marched into Budapest and imposed a series of repressive measures that threatened the life of every Jew in Hungary. From that day on, all that mattered was survival. Suddenly, life hung by a shred of paper— the proper “Aryan” identification. Determined to survive, Ludvik boldly entered the black market to buy those precious scraps of false identity that might save him and his loved ones from disaster. Soon he was living a double life, outwardly forsaking his Orthodox Jewish upbringing to pose as a gentile, at the same time clinging steadfastly to his beliefs, never for a moment forgetting who he was and where he came from. Soon he became a master of deception— whether it was posing as a trusted “gentile” factory employee, disguising himself as a drunken peasant, or assuming the dress and manner of a member of the Hungarian S.S. Somehow, he had the capacity to enlist the aid of an unlikely assortment of non-Jews, who helped him at the peril of their lives—among them, a peasant woman who befriended him in prison and offered her home as his haven for the duration of the war… a Hungarian Air Force officer, who “adopted” Ludvik's niece as his own illegitimate child, lent him his apartment as a hiding place and smuggled a series of vital ID papers to him… the Skid Row derelict who saved the life of Ludvik's nephew by pretending to be the boy's uncle. The book traces Ludvik's life, beginning with his placid, essentially easygoing boyhood in Czechoslovakia. Then, in 1940, after the Hungarian takeover, he was inducted into forced labor. It describes the cruelty and black humor of the labor camp, which helped him to develop the cunning and ingenuity that enabled him to sharpen his survival skills and avoid being sent to fatal service on the Russian front. The story then focuses on the Nazi occupation, culminating in Ludvik's near-execution at the hands of his Russian liberators. Armed with optimism, unswerving faith in the Almighty, and his own resourcefulness, Ludvik never let fear keep him from doing whatever was necessary to save himself and his fellow Jews. Throughout his heart-stopping adventures —and even in the darkest moments of despair, when events propelled him to the brink of suicide—Ludvik was motivated to go on by consummate devotion to his beloved mother. He knew he had to survive, for he had promised her he would.

    The ancient Greeks initiated the name “parricide” for the murder of a parent. Thankfully the crime of parricide is a fairly rare occurrence, but no matter how rare, parricide remains one of the most profound of all taboos in all societies. It directly contravenes a universal cultural and religious principle that children must honor their parents. To murder ones parents is the most definitive act of rebellion against society's rules and order. Every human family is a unique and complex unit. It operates and malfunctions in its own distinctive way. As a result, families can create a rich assortment of murderous motives.Seriously abused children murder their abusive parent to put a stop to the abuse. Seriously antisocial children murder their parent in order to advance their own ambitions. In these cases, the parent is a hindrance in their desire to achieving what they crave. These individuals, for instance, might murder to continue to have a relationship with a person of whom the parents disapprove, may murder to have more freedom, or to become heir to money they believe is sooner or later going to be theirs. Seriously mentally ill kids murder the parent basically as a consequence of their mental illness. Commonly made diagnoses consist of severe depression and psychosis. This book has 10 horrific true crime stories of children killing their parent(s). All of the cases profiled in this book are tragedies.This is book # 8 in the Murder In The Family Series by Sylvia Perrini, and we invite you to read this one as well as the other true crime murder stories in this series and in her other True Crime Stories series.

    She is the girl with the blue tattoo.The story behind the distinctive tattoo is the stuff of legends. Some believed it was placed on her face during her captivity, following the brutal murders of her family members and the kidnapping of her and her sister. Others believe it was placed on her after her return.Rumors swelled. Her tattoo became a symbol of Native barbarianism and the triumph of American goodness, but like many stories of that era, the truth is far more complicated.This short book details the murders, her captivity, the aftermath, and her baffling return to her captors. Unravel the mystery of the woman who would become famous for all the wrong reasons and discover what her life story says about cultural identity, the power of resiliency, and what happens when fact and fiction bend and twist to muddy the waters.Read on to find out the truth!

    This is what mother decided would be our best chance at survival. This was not an easy undertaking. To blend into the Polish community it was essential not to look Jewish; not to sound Jewish; to know a fair amount about Catholicism; and be able to think on your feet when unexpected events occurred. Above all one needed to be lucky. With counterfeit documents we changed our name and moved to Lublin, the site of Majdanek, the second largest concentration camp in Poland. At that time I was five years old and my brother was seven. We had to learn new names and to never reveal our past. No sooner we got settled that members of my father’s family descended on us seeking shelter. In a small, primitive house we hid up to eight members of my father’s family.

    

    THEY HAD GOOD REASON TO BE RESPECTFUL OF FREDDIE AND THEY BUILT THEIR EMPIRE UPON MANY OF THE LESSONS HE TAUGHT THEM.' - TOM HARDYFor over fifty years, Freddie Foreman's name has commanded respect, and occasionally fear, from those who work to uphold the law - and those who operate just outside of it. With almost all of his compatriots - like the notorious Kray twins - now gone, Freddie is truly The Last Real Gangster.A true entrepreneur and businessman, Freddie was one of the great personalities of the criminal underworld. A man of principle, protective of his family and unfailingly loyal to his friends, Freddie was someone who could be relied upon with complete confidence in all circumstances.Together with co-authors Frank and Noelle Kurylo - who have themselves been intimately involved in the underworld for a number of decades - as well as dozens of previously unpublished photographs, The Last Real Gangster contains the musings and reminiscences of someone who truly was there and really did see it all.Including a detailed look at the life of the Kray twins, alongside dozens of other recognisable 'Faces', this book is the no-holds-barred story of Freddie's life and the exciting and glamorous world in which they lived.

     As a child, I was known as "Jessica Pelley." When I was nine, I went to a sleepover at a friend's house for the weekend. While I was away, my entire family was murdered. I would spend the next 30 years fighting, crawling, and clawing my way through the darkness. This wasn't just a national news headline, a cold case, or a true crime show. It was my family. And my life. I was the broken little girl left behind to tell this story. I am now "Jessi," in the pages of this unapologetic memoir, set free. *** JESSI - APRIL 29, 2016 April 29, 1989. A date I cannot forget. Numbers forever seared deep into my soul. It was 27 years ago, today. Jesus. Get a grip, Jessi. They’re just numbers. They don’t mean anything. You’re giving them power over you, again. That’s what I tell myself. But the numbers—those damn numbers—they haunt me. They always will. I cannot escape them. Not now. Not ever. For most people, dates are just numbers on a calendar. No big deal. Random markers of time affixed to the top left corner of small, white squares on a page to depict days filled with choices, chances, and opportunities. At least that’s what they are for the normal people. But I’m no longer one of them. For me, they serve as numeric reminders of the girl I used to be. A tragedy that would irrevocably and mercilessly alter the life of a little girl wearing dark blue jeans, canvas lace-up sneakers, and a white tee shirt, accessorized by prominent coke bottle glasses, her hair hanging in a messy bob. Her life would be forever dismantled. Gone. The moment they told me the words. The ones that I will never forget. At that moment, my life froze and shattered into pieces, splintering like bits of broken glass, dropping down onto the ground around me, like the remnants of a cracked windshield, falling fast before the spinning mind and broken heart of a wide-eyed little girl. Life, as I knew it, was over in that moment. What happened on April 29, 1989, has scarred me forever. A day that started out normally, before it became ensnared in marred memories, tucked between folds of tragedy and darkness. The lingering memories cut straight to the core of the hollow girl left behind. The darkness delivers itself to me, every year, on schedule. Steadily. Greedily. On the 29th day of April. Relentless. Haunting. It taunts the pieces of me that remain. Every single year. I try to lift myself out of the darkness. I tell myself the numbers shouldn’t matter. Not after 27 years have passed. Jessi, It’s just another day. You can do anything you want with it. Don’t slip into the darkness. But not even the voice in my head believes those lies I tell myself. Year after year, my happiness recoils, my thoughts run to a dark place filled with foggy memories and a void that swallows me whole. The door of despair opens and I’m trapped: alone, numb to the bone, emotionally deplete, void of all reality, space, and time. I hate the helplessness as I slip further into that dark place. A place that, long ago, was filled with light. A place where three little girls would sing happy songs, pick flowers, hold hands while skipping through tall blades of grass, and sit down at the dining room table, where they would bow their heads to pray before plates filled with food, in a home filled with laughter. Then it hits me—the life-defining, self-inflicted images of horror—of their final moments—dragging me deep into the darkness.

    Just a few months after their wedding, and a few weeks after running a 10K, a rare autoimmune disease landed Joclyn in the hospital with a failing heart. Enduring four open heart surgeries, rounds of experimental chemotherapy, a punctured lung, a lost voice, a pacemaker, an unsympathetic nurse, bedpans, and legitimately gruesome hospital food, it seemed the bad news would never end. But with the help of a top-notch medical team, supportive and loving friends and family, courage, a will to live, and a desire to just go home, they learned the true value of love, hope and life. Joclyn, an occupational therapist, Jeremy, a public school administrator, live in Sacramento, California with their dog, Ramsay. Their experience received national attention and helped facilitate legislative reform surrounding “surprise medical bills,” out-of-network bills received when a patient has done everything he possibly can to remain in-network.