and much, much more!BACK ON TOP is fast-paced and occasionally outrageous, told with the flair readers loved in HOOKED. Samantha X does not hold back when it comes men, love, sex - and getting herself back on top.

    He has perfected the perfect way for anyone to have a garden without weeding, bending over, or using chemicals. If you follow his step by step methods and suggestions you will be assured to grow a beautiful and productive garden this year, even if you have never gardened before. The best part is that if the soil in your backyard is less than productive it doesn't matter at all. If you have sunlight and water, you will have a great garden this year. From the Arctic Circle in Northern Alaska to the heat of the desert in Saudi Arabia, people are using this method, and having great success. The booklet is full color with 78 pages, and has a perfect bind booklet binding.

    The story covers Maggie Clarke's upbringing in the tenements close to the docks, the River Mersey and the Leeds and Liverpool Canal: an area notorious for having the worst slums in Britain, yet the closest community as well.At the tender age of 11, Maggie Clarke finds herself the matriarch of the family when her Irish mother runs off with another man. Leaving school at 14 to work at a local factory putting sticks into lollies, she is determined to make a better life for herself and her family - before starting her own family with her childhood sweetheart, who she marries at 19 after 'falling in the family way'. She has one night of married life with her husband before he is sent to India with the Navy and is devastated when she never hears from him again, presuming him a casualty of the war that is raging at home and abroad. Another tragedy strikes when Maggie's brother Tommy is also claimed by the war, leaving her father inconsolable, but Maggie knows life has to go on and falls in love with Joseph, an Irish settler who she has 8 children with. But her happiness is short-lived as her first husband suddenly appears out of the blue demanding a divorce, and her new husband drinks away what little money they have, returning in fits of rage that leave Maggie and her children hungry and afraid. Many times she is only able to feed her brood by the kindness of neighbours putting a 'pan of scouse' on the range for her, or feeding her kids jam butties to help out. Maggie's story sweeps across the changing face of Liverpool, from its squalid dock streets, the tenement blocks and cobbled roads to the decline of the docklands, new council housing, the rise of the Mersey beat, the Beatles and the energy and passion of a city that is home to a cast of colourful characters with the resilience to withstand the heartbreak and hardships that only the poorest can know.

    The first Indian Army officer to be promoted to the five-star rank of Field Marshal, Sam Bahadur continues to be the most admired of our Army Chiefs.

    With her trademark unflinching honesty and humour, she discusses everything from her new role as a step parent, to eating disorders, online bullying and the struggles that the fame of Like a Queen and her blog has brought.Still a Queen will make you laugh and it will make you cry. But Constance's underlying message, about the importance of supporting each other without passing judgement, is something that we all should take to hear

     At the same time THE JEWEL GARDEN is the story of a creative partnership that has weathered the greatest storm, and a testament to the healing powers of the soil. In his weekly column for the Observer, Monty Don has always been candid about the garden's role in helping him to pull back from the abyss of depression; THE JEWEL GARDEN elaborates on this much further. Written in an optimistic, autobiographical vein, Monty and Sarah's story is truly an exploration of what it means to be a gardener.

    

    When the action heats up on the pitch, emotions in the dugout boil over. Grown men lose control. The normally sane turn into irrational agitators. And every decision, no matter how minor, is hotly contested. Tales From The Dugout is a fantastically entertaining collection of incidents and memories gathered from managers, players, referees, linesmen and broadcasters, which encapsulates the unique environment of the technical area and reveals how even limited exposure to it can transform people unrecognisably. And when the red mist descends, the consequences can be almost unbelievable - and frequently hilarious. With contributions from a host of those who have been at the sharp end and lived to tell the tale, Tales From The Dugout is a unique insight into life in the technical area. There are tales from Scotland manager Gordon Strachan, Craig Brown, Pat Nevin, Kenny Clark, Pat Bonner, Scott Booth, Terry Butcher, Jimmy Calderwood, Billy Dodds, Jim Duffy, Alex McLeish, Alex Smith, Willie Young and Chick Young - amongst many others. And brilliant stories about legends of the game like Tommy Burns, Walter Smith, Martin O'Neill, Ally McCoist, Jim McLean and, of course, Sir Alex Ferguson. And it explains why that small area by the side of the pitch is no place for the faint-hearted.

     Napoleon Bonaparte These prophetic words are the beginning of an adventure. When two intrepid Aussies decide to buy a house in France after living on a boat for 11 years, they get more than baguettes and stinky cheese. Wonderful neighbours, horrible drains, fabulous wine, French taxes. Boat to Baguette is a humorous rollercoaster ride as Hettie and Boomie make France their new home.

    Lots of laughs and tears are part of the job. Combat, test flying and, as the title implies, high risk. A Silver Star recipient, much of my OV-10 combat time was in Laos. Started with the F-100 in Europe and finished my career as test director to make the F-100 a target.

    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'.

    As soon as I reached the doors for the west wing ICU, I looked around for the family visitation room. I entered the doors with my adrenaline on overload. The first face I spotted was Ma Lique. She stood over Rah as he sat in a chair with his arms draped over his knees and his head lowered slightly above them. Ma Lique was stroking his back and I feared the worst. My steps seemed to fail me as it felt like forever to make it next to where they sat. Feeling my presence, Ma Lique looked my way with a tear-stained face. “What the fuck is going on?” I asked worry etched in every word I spoke. Ma Lique spoke first. “Calm down, baby. Deena was in an accident. She’s in surgery. We’re waiting to hear from the doctor,” she uttered through muffled tears. “It wasn’t no fucking accident!” Rah shrieked rising to his feet and moving toward the window. “The bitch ran her off the road and tried to kill her and my unborn seed.” “Man, what the fuck happened?” I asked as I followed him. “Man, I don’t know all the details. All I know is the highway patrolman said witness statements indicate her truck was clipped and rammed by another vehicle. By the time both cars came to a standstill, a tractor trailer slammed the other vehicle pushing it into her car before both cars went spiraling down an embankment.” “Do they have any idea who did this shit?” I asked Rah as I huffed and puffed. “Yeah, man. It was that bitch, Cashmere. She’s in this mothafucka somewhere. When I get my hands on her she’s a dead bitch,” Rah seethed, teeth clenched and his right fist hitting the palm of his left hand. “Nah, my nigga. I got that bitch. I’ll tell you about the bullshit as soon as Pimp is out of the woods,” I sneered attempting to rein in my anger towards Cashmere. I patted Rah on the back. “Pimp is going to be alright, man. She’s strong and a damn fighter. There’s no way in hell she’ll let a bitch like Cashmere take her out. Plus, she’s going to fight tooth and nail to hang on for CaLi and RJ. Trust me, man. She’s gonna make it.” “I keep telling myself that, man. I love her so much. Man, if I lose her I don’t know what I’ll do.” A few minutes later, we heard a little commotion and turned to see CaLi and her grandparents coming through the doors. Rah turned and CaLi ran straight into his arms. He hugged her tightly. “She’s going to be alright, CaLi. Your momma isn’t going to leave you.” CaLi cried uncontrollably. “I can’t lose her, Rah. I just can’t. What about my baby brother? I can’t lose him either. Who would be so mean to do this to my mother?” Ma Lique walked over and pulled CaLi into her arms. “Baby, your momma is a fighter. She’ll fight for you and your brother. Come with me and your grandparents to the chapel to pray.” She gave CaLi a few tissues to wipe her face and the four of them walked away. A few minutes later, CoCo appeared carrying a take-out tray with four cups with lids on it. “Hey Monty,” she spoke, as she handed Rah a cup first and then passed one to me. I gave her the “What’s up,” head nod and then lifted the cup to my lips. When the liquid slid down my throat and the taste of Cognac hit my taste buds, a smile formed on my face.

    These memoirs take him from enjoying the odd cold beer sailing peacefully across the Indian Ocean to being trapped in a war zone. Here he sees life at sea changing from the leisurely days of general cargoes to the hectic computerised containerships. He seems to have done it all – rescuing drug runners from the ice, dredging aggregates in the North Sea and finally skippering a ‘steamer’ on a tranquil lake. This volume is the second of Bob’s memoirs covering his service as master on a wide variety of ships. The first book ‘I think I’ll go to sea’ relates to his experiences climbing up through the ranks. In this book he has to flee the USA to avoid arrest for drug smuggling, assists rescuing a ship’s crew when their ship sinks in pack ice and gets stuck in the middle of the Iraq/Iran war. He also experiences alcohol free ships which take away the pleasure of his ‘cold beer’

    Without help from her daughters dad she picks up a fast and easy job which turns out to be stripping at Hot Lips Night Club. Luckily while working at the club she meets a smooth, good looking, stand up guy by the name of Midnight. Midnight is a businessman and all he wants is a real woman by his side through it all. He admires An'yah and is willing to give her the good life she's been looking for and wanting, but by then An'yah only wanted to focus on what was important in her life. An'yah figured it was absolutely nothing wrong with having Midnight as a friend, especially if he was willing to break her off and help her when she needed it the most. But after a while she couldn't hide the feelings she had for him. He made it very hard to not want him as a soulmate, but after finding out that he's the plug, she questions if a relationship with him is a risk she was willing to take.

    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.