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."

    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.

    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.

    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'.

    It’s a world of craziness, lost reservations, the “Master Bait & Tackle Shop”, Pet Jacuzzis, Pompeii pornography, the Electric Chair beauty salon, Cowboy poetry gatherings, strips searches, a Cannabis festival, the “Miss Swamp Buggy” beauty contest, cancelled flights, tattooed Santa, the “Shrub Guy”, an Iranian comic, free dwarf mice, and Hitler’s town car on display in a Las Vegas casino. After reading Ken Levine’s hilarious and instructive excursions, you’ll be on the phone to your travel agent, either booking or canceling your next trip.

    Caught in the inescapable hurricane of life,the protagonist decides to snap out of the everyday mendacity and go on a 4000 km motorbike journey across Ladakh. Little does he know whether he can complete this arduous and uncertain journey and finds himself struggling with the whims and fancies of the mountain. But soon, his journey transforms into a metamorphic one, unsettling the dusts in his mind and teaching him invaluable lessons. The changing landscapes take him on a quest to discover his true identity as he learns to break free and introspect. He finds a connection to his past and finds his way to build his future, the future he always wanted to build but never had the courage to do so. He learns to annihilate the impediments on his path to creativity and entrepreneurship which were created by fear and uncertainty and goes on to follow his bliss. 'When the Road Beckons' is not merely a travelogue but a valuable read for anyone on a quest for meaning of life but is afraid to step into the unknown. It's a story that will take you to that one person whom you are quite eager to discover. And that person is You.

    In this volume, he is an observant guide to a world that he was once master of.

    For the rest of Michael's childhood, the two crisscrossed America, perpetually en route to someplace else. His memoir, told in the fresh, funny, world-wise voice of the young boy he once was, describes their bizarre encounters hitchhiking the nation's highways. In the rundown rooming houses and homeless missions where they hole up as Michael's father works odd jobs to make enough money for them to move on, or in the AA meetings they attend in every city for a decent doughnut, we glimpse a different America. Pushed onward by Michael's unceasing thirst for new adventures and his father's dreams of the next better place, the careworn twosome live far outside convention. But despite their peculiar, often dysfunctional life, there is real love between this father and son, and they share the glorious freedom of the peripatetic life. That such happiness exists in a lonely marginal universe doesn't overshadow the fact that a Greyhound bus is the closest Michael comes to experiencing the idea of home. THE NEXT BETTER PLACE explores the fine line between wanderlust and compulsion, between running away and arriving, and leaves us with the understanding that the journey is often more powerful than the destination.

    The autobiography of the most troubled footballer of modern times.

    Moore-Shaver, with her husband and children, spent ten years in the Alaskan bush where they lived a simple but satisfying lifestyle with all the attendant challenges and adventures. She and her family lived in the Interior of Alaska where winter temperature drop as low as -60 degrees or more and stay there for weeks on end. The summers are three months long, and everything must be done during that short season to prepare for the following winter. She tells of encounters with bears, surviving spring floods, and setting her husband's broken leg while looking at a first-aid book. Her desire to learn the skills of bush life led her to tan moose hides, catch fish in nets, snare rabbits for dinner, and much more, most of which was learned through trial and error. The average contact with others was about every three months when a friend might fly out to visit and maybe bring mail. Loneliness was never a problem, says the author, but it was exciting to see someone after a long stretch of isolation. Growing up near Boston, Massachusetts, hardly prepared Ms. Moore-Shaver for such a rough and primitive life, but her love of nature and her interest in learning all she could about this back-to-basics way of life come through in the pages of her book. She tells her story just as it happened and includes journal entries she made at the time.

     He would go on to travel to some of the most unexplored regions, meeting men and women who had never seen westerners before. Along the journey the crew meet Patagonians, Fijians, Tahitians, Aborigines, and many other peoples. Although the Wilkes expedition was largely scientific mission, the ships were not always peaceful, indeed there were a number of armed conflicts with Pacific Islanders as the United States began to assert its authority across the globe. The ships and their crews had to withstand some of the most appalling conditions as they continued their expedition, from the heat-driven mirages of the South Atlantic to the brutal cold of the Antarctic seas. What makes Erskine’s narrative so remarkable is that he is not writing from the perspective of an admiral or a scientific explorer, but instead from the viewpoint of a common sailor. Interspersed throughout the narrative are short ditties and sailor’s songs that provide a vivid picture of the mentality of nineteenth century seamen. After the Wilkes expedition landed back in the United States Erskine spent only brief moments on dry land as he frequently registered under new ships and continued his journeys. Erskine’s book is a fascinating first-hand account of exploration and maritime life aboard a tall ship. Twenty Years Before the Mast was published in 1896 towards the end of Erskine’s life.