It is a tale of ambition, of wealthy widows and marriage mistakes; of money and trade, espionage and mercenaries, hardship and illness. Beyond the facts of discovery and exploration, this book reveals the extraordinary idealism and the influence of the Enlightenment on the founding of Australia.Michael Pembroke provides a compelling portrait of Arthur Phillip. He carefully weaves together the little-known facts and projects us into life in Georgian England – a time when newly discovered territories were the road to untold wealth.‘At long last, a finely written biography of the astonishing egalitarian who became Australia’s founding father. There are gripping descriptions of his amazing sea voyages and moving accounts of the humanity he brought to the government of a penal colony that only he thought would ever become a nation. The book shows the moral vision of a man who gave history its best example of the possibility of the Reformation of the human spirit.’-Geoffrey Robertson QC‘A gripping life of a quite extraordinary man: the most important enlightenment life story that we’ve never had properly told before.’-Andrew Marr, BBC broadcaster and television host‘The colour and dash of Arthur Phillip’s extraordinary life, lived in amazing times in every corner of the world, is told just brilliantly in Michael Pembroke’s utterly absorbing book, destined to become a classic of Imperial literature.’-Simon Winchester, bestselling author and journalistMichael Pembroke is a writer, judge and naturalist. He spent much of his childhood travelling to many of the maritime ports of the colonial era. His first school was at Sandhurst in England in the grounds of a military academy and his last on the foreshore of Sydney Harbour. He completed his education at Cambridge and now lives and writes in Sydney and at the hamlet of Mount Wilson in the Blue Mountains. In 2009 he wrote Trees of History & Romance, a paean to nature and poetry. He is a direct descendant of Nathanial Lucas and Olivia Gascoigne, who arrived in Botany Bay in January 1788.

    His designation grants him sweeping powers over the Indian security and intelligence apparatuses, and a say in foreign relations that he has exercised vigorously, particularly when it comes to the country’s neighbours. His outlook combines strident Hindu nationalism with habits learnt over his decades in the Intelligence Bureau. The results have been far from extraordinary—yet large sections of the media continue to laud him. Doval’s public persona as a super-spy and statesman may be too good to be true. The Caravan -India's finest magazine of politics, culture and business. Since its relaunch in 2010, The Caravan has earned a reputation as one of South Asia's most sophisticated publications, a showcase of the region's finest writers, with a distinctive blend of masterful reporting, unique criticism and stunning photo essays.

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

    The journey to salvage the lost friend can still offer myriad opportunities of redemption and self-discovery. It is up to us how we decide to tread this formidable path leading to self-actualization. Time has made us realize that it is not fair to stereotype a person suffering from cancer from the point of view of cure or recovery. Many a time, such stereotyping comes from our own society, and sometimes, ironically, from the medical fraternity, for its inability to go beyond a point, after which you feel you are condemned and vegetative. All these negativities passively entrap the patients and their parents in the viciousness of the disease where they die many times before the actual death. This is the worst form of cancer which has plagued our mindset. In the case of Divyansh Atman, the authors’ son, it was not so. Divyansh was the embodiment of courage and self-determination in the face of adversities. His life journey shows us how the path of opportunities can still be paved in the middle of adversities. He lived a big and a meaningful life that made a huge impact on the lives of people around him. Cancer can bring in self-evolution, both for the sufferer and his caregivers.

    Told through the eyes of a hurting brother and son, this tragic story follows three family members through a series of decisions that bring the family together and then tear them apart. Almost every family has a tumultuous chapter and this story is about the real impact mental illness and domestic violence can have.  The consequences are not only catastrophic for sufferers, but also for those who love them. Travis tells his story with rawness and honesty, but also with hope and humour.

    But he was also one of its greatest gentlemen - a class act with heart, fire, wanderlust and a wild streak. Exploding out of Canvey Island in the early 1970s - an age of glam rock, post-hippy folk and pop androgyny - the Feelgoods, with Lee Brilleaux and Wilko Johnson at the helm, charged into London, grabbed the pub rock scene by the throat and sparked a revolutionary new era, proving that you didn't have to be middle class, wearing the 'right clothes' or living in the 'right place' to succeed. Lee Brilleaux: Rock'n'Roll Gentleman, while a totally different work, is a companion of sorts to the hugely popular Wilko Johnson book: Looking Back At Me (also co-authored by Howe). It is the first comprehensive appreciation of Lee Brilleaux and, with its numerous exclusive interviews and previously unseen images, is a book no Dr Feelgood fan would wish to be without.

    In 1942 Elizabeth Bynam Sanders was a young woman who left home under false pretenses and travelled to Our Lady of Victory, a home for unwed mothers in upstate New York. Shortly after surrendering her daughter for adoption, she returned to her life in Johnston County, North Carolina. She never married and never had another child of her own. This powerful and moving memoir speaks of the profound need for connection. It is a story about identity, the hunger we feel for a sense of belonging and the ineffable significance of blood.

    Staff nursing in a ward where she's challenged by an inventory driven ward sister, she reckons it's time to swap such trivialities for life as a district nurse.Independent thinking is one thing, but Jane's about to find that the drama on district can demand instant reaction; and without hospital back up, she's usually the one having to provide it. She meets a rich cast of patients all determined to follow their own individual star, and goes to Edinburgh where Queen Victoria's Jubilee Institute's nurse training is considered the cr me de la cr me of the district nursing world.Call Me Sister recalls Jane's challenging and often hilarious route to realizing her own particular dream.

    Names like Bundy, Gacy, and Gein come to mind, alongside the many other murderous people out there who've gained notoriety because of their evil. When you're envisioning the unthinkable and heinous acts that are carried out in this world, it's unlikely you imagine a youngster as being a perpetrator of evil.Killer children, although rare, do exist. The thought alone is terrifying; we see children as being vulnerable and pure, which makes it harder to comprehend them wanting to inflict pain and suffering on another being. The correlation of a child and unthinkable acts of murder is undeniably tricky to compute.The children in this book carried out acts of savage murder - even just typing that sentence feels wrong. Some of these murders are sexually motivated; some are carried out for revenge; others are part of an occult ritual. Regardless of the motivation for these children to commit unspeakable acts of cruelty, they are all disturbing.This book was written to give you some food for thought, to allow you to digest some of the heinous crimes committed by youngsters and consider why they'd carry out such horrific acts. This book will open up a world of questions, many of which I've likely pondered upon myself. While I do offer up my own opinion throughout this book, I do need to (as much as possible) stick to the facts to let you make your own mind up.With that in mind, let's delve into some of the despicably horrific murders that were carried out by children.

     With all that has been said about Dodge City no true account of conditions as they were in the early days was accessible until publication of Robert Wright's 1911 book "Dodge City, the Cowboy Capital." The author was especially well qualified to write a history of the "wicked city of the plains" since he had lived on the frontier for many years previous to the founding of the city and lived in the city from its opening. He had all the experience gleaned as a plainsman, explorer, scout, trader and as mayor of the town. His is a most interesting narrative of early days, as well as a very valuable contribution to western history. Prior to founding Dodge City in 1868, at 16 years old Wright came West to Missouri. In 1859 he made the first of six overland trips across the plains to Denver. He was later appointed post trader at Fort Dodge in 1867, when Kiowa, Comanche, Cheyenne, Arapahoe, and Prairie Apache abounded there. Wright was acquainted with old-school Western sheriff and gunfighter Bat Masterson, of whom he said, "Bat is a gentleman by instinct. He is a man of pleasant manners, good address and mild disposition, until aroused, and then, for God's sake, look out! "Bat was a most loyal man to his friends. If anyone did him a favor, he never forgot it. I believe that if one of his friends was confined in jail and there was the least doubt of his innocence, he would take a crow-bar and 'jimmy' and dig him out, at the dead hour of midnight; and, if there were determined men guarding him, he would take these desperate chances...." Wright describes a typical day in Dodge: "Someone ran by my store at full speed, crying out, 'Our marshal is being murdered in the dance hall!' I, with several others, quickly ran to the dance hall and burst in the door. The house was so dense with smoke from the pistols a person could hardly see, but Ed Masterson had corralled a lot in one corner of the hall, with his sixshooter in his left hand, holding them there until assistance could reach him...." Wright also describes one hair-raising encounter he witnessed from a roof on his ranch: "The savages circled around the poor Mexican again and again; charged him from the front and rear and on both sides. Presently the poor fellow's horse went down, and he lay behind it for awhile. Then he cut the girth, took off the saddle, and started for the river, running at every possible chance, using the saddle as a shield, stopping to show fight only when the savages pressed him too closely

    She claimed the police had inserted a stick inside her… Swaranpreet realised that she had been cruelly violated; He spoke a single sentence but repeated it twice in chaste Punjabi: ‘Please give me a turban? I want nothing else…’ These are voices begging for deliverance in the aftermath of Indira Gandhi’s assassination in October-November 1984 in which 2,733 Sikhs were killed, burnt and exterminated by lumpens in the country. Nilanjan Mukhopadhyay walks us through one of the most shameful episodes of sectarian violence in post Independent India and highlights the apathy of subsequent governments towards Sikhs who paid a price for what was clearly a state-sponsored riot. Poignant, raw and most importantly, macabre, the personal histories in the book reveal how even after three decades, a community continues to battle for its identity in its own country.

    I try to tell what it was like for me and my brother Marines without fanfare or bravado and give the reader a vivid description of my 13 months.

    The autobiography of the most troubled footballer of modern times.

    This autobiographical history of Scientology is told by one of L. Ron Hubbard’s staunchest defenders.

    I am a victim of murder. Through a series of events and by two shots of a gun, I was made a widow at the age of 28, with my youngest child just six weeks old. I am a victim of infidelity. I have felt unlovable. I have felt rejected. I have had days in my life when I wasn’t sure if I would ever take a breath again, let alone be able to raise my five children by myself. I have lived in fear. I have felt much heartache. I have felt truly broken to my core. I have carried some heavy burdens...not only of my own, but burdens put upon my shoulders by the death of my husband. I have felt alone. I have felt humiliated. I have been humbled to my knees. I have searched my soul to find my worth in this world, and in the life that was left for me. My world has been totally shattered. I have faced realities I never knew were possible, and found strength within myself to keep up the fight and live every day as if it was on purpose. I have been carried by Angels...both earthly beings and those unseen. I have found that being a “victim” doesn’t mean we have an excuse to stop living. Being a victim means finding a reason for seeking a higher road. I have picked up the pieces left and carried on. I am a mother. We are survivors. In one way or another, we are all victims. There are times in our lives when we are forced to question who we are at our core. When we are presented with a path...we can go this way or we can choose that way. For some, this moment comes when the one person whom we love the most decides we are not enough. This person leave us—at a most vulnerable moment—alone to search within ourselves for who we really are. We are left trying to find who it is that was left behind. Sometimes the person we love dies. Sometimes it is merely an internal battle we are facing...all alone inside our minds. Whatever the situation and wherever you have been...you have been hurt. You have felt alone. You have been abandoned, either by your parents, your lover, your friends, complete strangers, or even yourself. We have all been at that crossroad where all we have left is ourselves. Sometimes these moments of lows have brought you to your knees and caused you to reflect and ponder your relationship with God...and other times they have made you question if He is even there, or if He knows you are alone. Whatever that moment has been for you, it is personal and real. It has defined and refined who you are, who you think you were, and who you want to become. This is my story...the defining moments that have truly brought me to my knees, the times when I’ve questioned to my core my very existence, and the experiences I’ve had that have shown me who I really am and who my Heavenly Father still needs me to become. The night of my husband’s death was my darkest hour, but also the very moment when I saw firsthand that my Heavenly Father sent Angels on errands for me. He carried me. It was the hour when all my fears and all the pain of this world collided together and He was there...putting back together all the pieces, one step at a time.