An unforgettable sailing adventure to the world's most dangerous continent.

    Alex’s father dies just as she and her husband buy a nondescript house set atop an acre of wilderness that extends into a natural gorge in the middle of the city. Choked with weeds and crumbling antique structures, the abandoned garden turned wild jungle stirs cherished memories of Alex’s childhood: when her home life became unbearable, she would escape to the forest. In her new home, Alex can feel the power of the majestic trees that nurtured her in her youth.  She begins to beat back the bushes to unveil the garden’s mysteries. At the same time, her mother has a stroke and develops dementia and Alex discovers an envelope of yellowed documents while sorting through her father’s junk pile. The papers hold clues to her Ukrainian-born parents’ mysterious past. She reluctantly musters the courage to uncover their secrets, while discovering the plants hidden in the garden — from primroses and maple syrup–producing sugar maples to her mother's favorite, lily of the valley. As every passionate gardener knows, to spend time with the soil is the opposite of escapism — it is to embrace our own circle of life and hold it close.

    Personally, I think the eye-catching cover shot of me in my pajamas is reason enough. (By the way, those are my real kids on the cover, and yes, those are my actual ankles. No, I'm not retaining water.)What you're holding in your hands is a very funny and sometimes remarkably poignant look at fathers, not from the mother's point of view or the child's, but from the dad's side. Which is why it's called Tales from the Dad Side.It's filled with stories of what it's like to be a dad and a son, from a child's first day of kindergarten to the awkward sex talk and right up to the day the always-practical dad tries to pay for college with bonus miles. I was there for every landmark in my children's lives, except the day I was on the riding lawn mower and missed my son's first words, which my wife insists were “trust fund.”As children get older, the lessons of the father get harder, like teaching my son how to shave just as my father taught me, with a rusty double-edged safety razor. At the end of my dad's lesson, I emerged from the bathroom nicked and gouged, looking like an extra from a Quentin Tarantino film. My more civilized son is a Norelco man. With my high-school-age daughters, I promised them a day on which I'd take them anywhere and do anything with them they wanted, expecting them to ask for dinner and a movie; I was horrified when they told me they wanted all of us to get manicures and pedicures together. That was not the answer I was expecting; it was like discovering Lou Dobbs was an illegal alien.Over the course of raising three children, I have learned with my wife that fathers are different from mothers. That could be the greatest understatement since Noah turned on the Weather Channel and found out that the next forty days called for a 20 percent chance of light rain.The truth is, fatherhood is like Wikipedia: some parts based in fact, others just made up along the way. And while bookstores are filled with tales of mothers, their children and families, there are few from the dad's side. Now, as a public service, I'm doing my part to right this wrong.I sincerely hope this answers your questions. If perhaps it's not exactly your cup of tea, I bet you've got a father or mother in your life who'd like the stone-cold truth about dads. Besides, for the same money, you can either put three gallons of gas in your car or take home this book, which has a highway rating of 29 smiles an hour.Steve Doocy

    Shimi Kang, psychiatrist, bestselling author of The Dolphin Parent"Jessica's ability to open up about painful things in a way that make them hilarious and beautiful is astounding! This book will make you laugh, make you feel brave and make you feel like you are normal and wonderful just the way you are!" --Aisha Alfa, comedian, Just For LaughsComedians live by the mantra tragedy ] time = comedy--hence Jessica Holmes's refreshing and hilarious new memoir about depression, "the cold sore of the mind." She takes us on her journey-- sometimes laugh-out-loud, sometimes cringe-worthy--from successful performer to someone who was basically living the life of a house cat. She muses aboutthe chicken and the egg of depression and comedy marriage counselling (a.k.a. tattling on your spouse) where jokes come from living on the sofa, which now looks like a tornado hit a 7-Eleven her kids' take on the perks of having a depressed mom: "We don't have to clean up anything. Yesterday the cat barfed and Mom just put a cushion on it and went back to playing on the iPad!" the obnoxiousness of anti-depressant commercials: "I never noticed the ocean before!" Holmes shares her two cents on how to play it cool when your medication makes you hear Kate Hudson's voice, and why you don't sneak elk pepperettes into the movies. It's a validating read for anyone who has suffered from depression a little ("I get sad every January") or a lot ("My psychiatrist doesn't have a name for what I've got") or who just thinks real life calls for levity and understanding.

    During that time he worked some of the most notorious murders in Seattle, from serial murderers, domestic terrorists and psychotic killers. In his true crime memoir, Homicide: The View from Inside the Yellow Tape, he describes some of the most interesting murders he's worked on. Often shocking, often inane and even funny, it's a view you won't see on the evening news. A look inside the yellow tape; inside the interrogation room, where you come face to face with pure evil, and see what it's like to investigate murder.