Always afraid he was about to die, he climbed into the cockpit anyway ... and lived to tell you about it. How would you feel if you were a new guy in the sky ... attacked by four Messerschmitts? Let me tell you, no matter how much you prepare, no matter how much you read, how much you train, no matter how much you think of yourself as a 'Hot Shot Pilot,' you are never ready for life and death combat! How did it feel to say a 'last goodbye' to your bride believing you would never see her again, as you left to fight WWII? Author's Facebook page at: facebook.com/P38Flyer/ As reviewed by A. L. Hanks, Lieutenant Colonel, USAF (Ret) who said it perfectly: In "Brave and Funny Memories of WWII" Lyndon Shubert, to our great benefit, tells us his story, an engaging tale of his WWII experience as a fighter pilot in WWII. A member of the "greatest generation" he recounts his days (and nights) flying P-38 fighters in the wartime skies of Europe. The tale is told in a relaxed, conversational style, honest and personal. The reader will appreciate the authenticity and the easy humor. He tells us a story that is at once delightfully humorous and deadly serious. He shares that unfettered sense of flying a powerful aircraft free in the vast expanse of the sky. The special sense that pilots have when they "can reach out and touch the face of God". Shubert relates the feelings of men in combat, that gripping apprehension in your gut when you know you're going to die, your senses at full maximum intensity, and then that striking after mission fear when you look back and realize that you cheated death once again. Shubert was indeed a special fellow. We are indebted to him for his service and his book. He captures a special piece of the American character and our history that is essential to pass on to our children and grandchildren. Lt Shubert was exceptional, a USAF officer and a fighter pilot who fought the war and earned the Distinguished Flying Cross. The author reminds us once again why fighter pilots are special. Why they are ubiquitously viewed as swaggering "raconteurs", with big egos and big watches who can sometimes be insufferable. But his tale also captures the reality of one-on-one aerial combat, loser goes home.... to God.

    They were already used to a simple life, having spent the last three years living on their boat in France for the summer seasons, and returning to the UK and their caravan for the winters. This tiny cabin would now be their new home for the winter months, taking them a step further along the road to self-sufficiency. They had no electricity, no kitchen, no bathroom or bedroom and the loo was a bucket in a shed, but the property came with five acres of field and woodland.From now on their lives would be simple, pared back to the basics, but they found that an off-grid lifestyle was by no means an uncomfortable experience. Responsibilities didn’t disappear but they changed, becoming less onerous. There was more time to think, and to appreciate the natural world around them. Living in such rural isolation, each day brought something new to marvel at: deer browsing in the field at dusk, salamanders on the doorstep, owls calling by night.If their own world felt increasingly magical, the outside world was far from it. They had moved to a foreign country at an historic time, living through a pandemic and adapting to the day-to-day implications of Brexit.A Simple Life doesn’t just follow Mary-Jane and Michael as they settle into their new lives, it also raises questions about what really matters to people. What makes us happy? How does it feel to have few possessions? Will life become unbearable without a flushing toilet?Thought-provoking and amusing, this book opens a window onto a different way of living. Mary-Jane shares a wealth of information and, if you have ever found yourself longing for a simpler life, this might tempt you to take those first tentative steps on the journey.

    After years of fear and isolation, Heidi knew she had to go to the police. For a long time, Chloe resented Heidi for forcing her to disclose what had happened when she wasn’t ready, while their brother, Tom, couldn’t understand how he had so misjudged his father, and at first he didn’t believe their tale. The truth threatened to destroy them all. This is the very honest story of three siblings, and how a man they trusted threatened to tear their family apart.

    So began a desperate search for this precious child - conducted at the apex of the London Olympics by hundreds of police officers and volunteers. The disappearance of Tia Sharp was a tale of police blunders, misplaced trust, community spirit, and sadness. It was a case which shocked the nation and reminded us that, sometimes, the real monsters hide in plain sight.

    Little did they know that underneath his cool exterior lay a twisted desire to kill.Behind the facade of normality lay a psychopathic mind struggling to control its homicidal urges. Having seduced and married his sweetheart Mary Gough, Whelan immediately began planning her brutal murder.While his young wife dreamed of a love-filled marriage, Whelan searched the internet for information on serial killers and the methods they used to strangle their victims.Compelling and disturbing, this book reveals how Whelan murdered his wife to claim a hefty life insurance policy, and how he faked his own suicide when he became the prime suspect for the murder.Till Death Do Us Part offers a fascinating insight into the true motivation behind one of Irelands most notorious murders, and is a horrifying story of love, lust, revenge and murder - all the more shocking because every word is true.

    We usually only read about the best - about the bravery, the courage and the sacrifice of mountaineers who risk life and limb to achieve excellence for themselves and others. But there are other mountaineers – the charlatans, the conmen, the bullies, the petty-minded and narcissistic - who prefer to sacrifice others to their obsession to reach the top of Mt. Everest. This book is about one of the worst! In 1996, the deadliest year in the history of climbing Mt. Everest, both types were on the mountain. But in a cruel twist of fate the good guys died while the bad guy not only reached the top, but lived to prosper from it. In a piece of top class investigative journalism Ken Vernon delves into the guts of one dysfunctional expedition that, despite being supported by the iconic Nelson Mandela, became an international laughing stock. Everest ‘96 also peels back the layers of deception surrounding the fantastic past of the man who became the most reviled in mountaineering lore. Ken Vernon is an Australian journalist with decades of experience covering stories ranging from the African wars of Independence to the climbing of Mt Everest.

    As the nation watched on in horror, the police uncovered the body parts of fifteen more children in the same location. These grisly killings were found to have been the handiwork of Surinder Koli, a serial killer who lived in a house nearby.In Red-Handed: 20 Criminal Cases That Shook India, lawyers Souvik Bhadra and Pingal Khan narrate the stories behind some of the most sensational criminal cases to have caught the attention of the country in the last few decades. From the murder of Nitish Katara in a case of ‘honour killing’ to the shooting of Jessica Lal; from the Harshad Mehta scam to the Best Bakery arson of 2002; and, from the horrifying ‘tandoor’ case, in which Naina Sahni was killed and then cremated, to the trial and conviction of Sanjay Dutt under TADA, Red-Handed examines the motives behind these crimes even as it aims to lay bare the inner workings of the Indian judicial system. Additionally, the authors illuminate the crucial role that the media has come to play in judicial matters—it shapes public opinion, and often even investigates cases and delivers justice, much before the judges do.

    Before sisters Sue and Linda inherit a village house in the hills they have little interest in Spain, but on travelling out to see their new possession they begin to warm to the idea of spending time there with their husbands Paul and Bill. After an enjoyable summer holiday the prospect of living in the village becomes irresistible and this book describes their transition from visitors to residents and the diverse selection of people they meet along the way. This amusing and informative memoir is an ideal read for those interested in the possibilities of expat life in rural Spain.

    Hollywood minus the hype and hokum.

    From the bliss of her dramatic, romantic saga with her now husband, to the trials and triumph of her career journey as a young women, to the devastating loss of her son when he was only six months old, Jessica's commitment to follow the nudges of her heart have seen her through every season. Through her hilarious, inspiring stories and refreshing honesty, Jessica will challenge you start looking for ways to brings more joy to your life and the lives of those around you. Life lived to the fullest can only happen when you bring the joy.

     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.

    Moreover, he was as legendary a figure on the streets of New York as on the streets of London.Pearson persuaded the mysterious criminal leader to talk to him - and the result was a story even more extraordinary than that of the Kray twins. Here Pearson reveals the true story of the Englishman who became the adopted son of Joey Pagano, the head of one of the major New York crime families. Here the Englishman tells the story that no-one else dared to tell.

    He interviewed 82 inductees into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame ... 174 recording artists who had at least one No. 1 hit. His interviews were heard daily on radio stations around the globe during much of the late ‘70s and ‘80s, until severe bipolar disorder took full control. In One Brain Cell Left, Rosy doesn’t always paint a rosy picture of the Mega-Stars he interviewed. Some were absolute sweethearts; others were absolute assholes. And they’re not always the ones you’d expect. He’s never asked what he talked about with celebrities. People only want to know what the stars were like in person. This book answers the “What were they like?” questions about a cross-section of superstar entertainers, newsmakers and athletes that Rosy interviewed. But it’s equally about the unique and unusual life that he’s led outside the entertainment industry. He REALLY didn’t want to like Paul McCartney. He found George Harrison to be completely down-to-earth. Unfortunately, he can’t say the same about Ringo. He found Madonna to be “Queen Shit with a muffin top.” Mickey Mantle swore at him. Mel Brooks ran after him. Kareem Abdul-Jabbar intentionally treated him like shit. His first words to Lionel Richie were, “So they tell me you’ve become a real asshole since you’ve gotten all this success.” And you’ll laugh at his self-deprecating chapters “Always wear a cup when you play tennis” and “Free drinks, a blind hockey goalie and a goat.” You’ll likewise be drawn in by the poignant “I’m no Belushi, but I’ve become Joe Cocker” and the riveting “A machine gun and explosives.” His stories aren’t always pretty. But they’re always pretty interesting. And he’s got the brain cell to prove it.

    Reggie wrote his EAST END STORIES in the early 1990s, but they haven't seen the light of day until now. In the book, he recalls the close-knit East End community in which he and his brother grew up, the characters in his family and neighbourhood, and of course, the many villains he worked with. Filled with anecdotes about the area’s most outlandish personalities and notorious criminals, and offering a fascinating journey around the Krays’ ‘manor’ including their favourite haunts and business enterprises, the book paints a vivid portrait of a London that has long since disappeared.

    She was born into a large family in rural Romania?and grew up feisty and willing to fight back physically against anti-Semitism from other schoolchildren. She defied her father' s orders to turn down a scholarship that took her to Bucharest, and got herself expelled from that school when she responded to a priest/teacher' s vicious diatribe against the Jews by hurling a bottle of ink at him?After a series of incidents that ranged from dramatic escapes to a year in a forced labor detachment, Sara ended up in Ravensbruck, a women' s concentration camp, Aand? managed to survive?she tells this story with style and power." --Kirkus Reviews