From the New York Times bestselling author and master of narrative nonfiction comes the tragic story of Charles I, his warrior queen, Britain's civil wars and the trial for his life.Less than forty years after England's golden age under Elizabeth I, the country was at war with itself. Split between loyalty to the Crown or to Parliament, war raged on English soil. The English Civil War would set family against family, friend against friend, and its casualties were immense—a greater proportion of the population died than in World War I.At the head of the disintegrating kingdom was King Charles I. In this vivid portrait—informed by previously unseen manuscripts, including royal correspondence between the king and his queen—Leanda de Lisle depicts a man who was principled and brave, but fatally blinkered.Charles never understood his own subjects or court intrigue. At the heart of the drama were the Janus-faced cousins who...

Matthew is in the twilight of adolescence when the old lady barges into his life. Taking him under her wing, she hints at a future away from his hometown, his beliefs and aspirations. With all roads leading to the capital, he encounters complications and mishaps that force him to question whether he is in control of his destiny, or whether destiny is controlling him.Matthew is in the twilight of adolescence when the old lady barges into his life. Taking him under her wing, she hints at a future he had not envisaged, a future away from his hometown and his beliefs and aspirations. With all roads leading to the capital, he encounters complications and mishaps that force him to question whether he is in control of his destiny, or whether destiny is controlling him.Life In Parks is both serious and light-hearted, deep and throw-away, charting the trials of a young man coming of age in godless times.Warning: Contains occasional strong language and challenging themes.

Nick, an handsome poor dude decided to write his autobiography-- his love auto biography. In his write up, he wrote about his various escapades with the girls he's met. His encounter with rose is talked about here... Filled with humour, you'll never get bored.. Hoping that you'd be able to draw the line between a fictional autobio and the real one!!Nick, an handsome poor dude decided to write his autobiography-- his love auto biography. In his write up, he wrote about his various escapades with the girls he's met. His encounter with rose is talked about here... Filled with humour, you'll never get bored...Hoping that you'd be able to draw the line between a fictional autobio and the real one!!

Leopold Classic Library is delighted to publish this classic book as part of our extensive collection. As part of our on-going commitment to delivering value to the reader, we have also provided you with a link to a website, where you may download a digital version of this work for free. Many of the books in our collection have been out of print for decades, and therefore have not been accessible to the general public. Whilst the books in this collection have not been hand curated, an aim of our publishing program is to facilitate rapid access to this vast reservoir of literature. As a result of this book being first published many decades ago, it may have occasional imperfections. These imperfections may include poor picture quality, blurred or missing text. While some of these imperfections may have appeared in the original work, others may have resulted from the scanning process that has been applied. However, our view is that this is a significant literary work, which deserves to be brought back into print after many decades. While some publishers have applied optical character recognition (OCR), this approach has its own drawbacks, which include formatting errors, misspelt words, or the presence of inappropriate characters. Our philosophy has been guided by a desire to provide the reader with an experience that is as close as possible to ownership of the original work. We hope that you will enjoy this wonderful classic book, and that the occasional imperfection that it might contain will not detract from the experience.

Sally and her brother Ronnie explore a wood and stumble upon a fairy in need of their help! So begins their BIG adventure.'Greywolf', volume eleven in the Stanton Chronicles series of novels.The Millennium war games amid 'Circles of Fear', the government and media covered up the fact blues guitar player Jason Brinkly fought the battle of Armageddon, but with the hand of whom on his shoulder? Governments and commercial entities withdraw to their own circles driven by fear as the awesome weapon ADAM resurfaces in the hands of Greywolf, but had it ever slept. They regrouped ready to strike, they waited a long time for the ageing vigilante to wane, they would soon beg for his return. The stock market crashed, as the rich ran for cover they left the poor to put the bill, the rich for no other reasons than wealth rather than purpose, were hunted down. Greywolf unlike Stanton was not confined by matters of state, but by matters of servitude. He lived by the gun, the gun of his father; he served the righteous, in the name of his mother. Greywolf began to stalk the corridors of power. Educated by the sword of the cross, armed with the power of technology, authoritative information far beyond the gun, loyal to none but servant to all, even Stanton struggled to understand his creation. His mother 'Bella Elizabeth', a ruthless assassin was horrified. Grey by the wisdom of his father's hair, wolf by the virtue of his mother, 'Greywolf' became the law.

Lucy Foster Madison was an American novelist and teacher. Born Lucy Foster in Kirksville, Missouri, the daughter of George W. Foster and Almira Parker, she graduated from high school in Louisiana, Missouri. 

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Edward Frederic Benson was an English archaeologist and writer. Benson’s most famous works are the Mapp and Lucia series about Emmeline “Lucia” Lucas and Elizabeth Mapp.

This collection of literature attempts to compile many of the classic works that have stood the test of time and offer them at a reduced, affordable price, in an attractive volume so that everyone can enjoy them.

A DARK NIGHT'S WORK, a short fiction novel, was written by Elizabeth Gaskell in 1863.

This trilogy spanning World War II, based in part on Evelyn Waugh's own experiences as an army officer, is the author's surpassing achievement as a novelist. Its central character is Guy Crouchback, head of an ancient but decayed Catholic family, who at first discovers new purpose in the challenge to defend Christian values against Nazi barbarism, but then gradually finds the complexities and cruelties of war overwhelming. Though often somber, Sword of Honor is also a brilliant comedy, peopled by the fantastic figures so familiar from Waugh's early satires. The deepest pleasures these novels afford come from observing a great satiric writer employ his gifts with extraordinary subtlety, delicacy, and human feeling, for purposes that are ultimately anything but satiric. Sword of Honor comprises the three acclaimed novels Men at Arms, Officers and Gentlemen, and Unconditional Surrender.

Humans are ridiculous and cruel. Sparky, the talking goat, knows better than anyone. He lives in hiding on the rural farm of his senile owner. The Goat is a story about Kidnapping, Brutality, Murder and Lobster Bisque. Sparky must find his family and rescue them before they are chopped up by a wicked genius.A corporate assassin, a federal agent, a senile old man, a retired circus dog, no this is not the next hit Broadway musical. This is the story of the Goat. Humans are ridiculous and cruel. Sparky, the talking goat, knows better than anyone. He lives in hiding on the rural farm of his senile owner. The Goat is a story about Kidnapping, Brutality, Murder and Lobster Bisque. Sparky must find his family and rescue them before they are chopped up by a wicked genius. He doesn’t stand a chance alone, and reaching them transgresses a new breed of wild: Canadians.

CHAPTER I THE WICKED GIANT HE was ten. But his clothes were forty. And it was this difference in the matter of age, and, consequently, in the matter of size, that explained why, at first sight, he did not show how thin-bodied he was, but seemed, instead, to be rather a stout little boy. For his faded, old shirt, with its wide sleeves lopped off just above his elbows, and his patched trousers, shortened by the scissors to knee length, were both many times too large for him, so that they lay upon him, front, back and sides, in great, overlapping pleats that were, in turn, bunched into heavy tucks; and his kitchen apron, worn with the waistband about his neck, the strings being tied at the back, also lent him—if viewed from the front—an appearance both of width and weight. But he was not stout. His frame was not even fairly well covered. From the apron hem in front, the two legs that led down to the floor were scarcely larger than lead piping. From the raveling ends of his short sleeves were thrust out arms that matched the legs—bony, skinny arms, pallid as to color, and with hardly any more shape to them than there was to the poker of the cookstove. But while the lead-pipe legs ended in the sort of hard, splinter-defying boy\'s feet that could be met with on any stretch of pavement outside the tenement, the bony arms did not end in boyish hands. The hands that hung, fingertips touching halfway to the knee, were far too big for a boy of ten. They were red, too, as if all the blood of his thin shoulders had run down his arms and through his wrists, and stayed there. And besides being red, fingers, palms and backs were lined and crinkled. They looked like the hands of a hard-working, grown girl. That was because they knew dish washing and sweeping, bed making and cooking, scrubbing and laundering. But his head was all that a boy\'s head should be, showing plenty of brain room above his ears. While it was still actually—and naturally—large for his body, it looked much too large; not only because the body that did its bidding was undersized, but because his hair, bright and abundant, added to his head a striking circumference. He hated his hair, chiefly because it had a hint of wave in it, but also because its color was yellow, with even a touch of green! He had been taunted about it—by boys. But what was worse, women and girls had admired it, and laid hands upon it—or wanted to. And small wonder; for in thick undulations it stood away from forehead and temples as if blown by the wind. A part it had not, nor any sort of neat arrangement. He saw strictly to that. Whenever his left hand was not busy, which was less often than he could wish, he tugged at his locks, so that they reared themselves on end, especially at the very top, where they leaned in various directions and displayed what appeared to be several cowlicks. At every quarter that shining mop was uneven, because badly cut by Big Tom Barber, his foster father, whose name belied his tonsorial ability....