"New York, late 1958. Walter Withers had given the best years of his life to the CIA ... But Withers has returned to his hometown ... as a private investigator. Manhattan in the late fifties is alive with new possibilities, new sounds and new faces, including young presidential hopeful Senator Joe Keneally. Withers is assigned to bodyguard Keneally's girlfriend as a society gathering ... But next morning, sh'es dead - and Withers is the prime suspect. To clear his name Withers must take on his old masters from the CIA, as well as J. Edgar Hoover's FBI, all of them determined to set Keneally up. And Withers ... becomes another disposable victim of the trap closing in on the Senator.

The stranded knitting workshop in a book. Janine Bajus (AKA Feral Knitter) is on a mission to make custom Fair Isle knitting accessible and fun for knitters. Chapters on choosing colors, selecting motifs, and garment construction artfully guide the knitter with tasks, tips, case studies, student stories, and heartfelt encouragement.

"A Deep and Subtle Joy is an introduction to Benedictine - and indeed Christian - spirituality. It takes the reader on a twenty-four-hour personal tour of Quarr Abbey on the Isle of Wight, England, the monastery where Father Joe, the subject of Tony Hendra's best-selling book, lived. The reader is invited to share in the lives of the monks and enter into their rhythm of worship, work, reading, prayer, and recreation."--BOOK JACKET.

DENORIEL: WARRIOR OF KORONOS; RIDER IN THE WILD HUNT . . . NURSEMAID Denoriel Siencyn Macreth Silverhair was a warrior in Koronos' band, a fierce rider in the Wild Hunt, but when he was summoned he came obediently to the valley of the FarSeers. A glow of power lifted about the crystal lens. "Here is the nexus of our future," said the FarSeer in the dress of ancient Greece, and a mist seemed to pass over the surface of the lens. A moment later, the surface cleared, and within it, Denoriel saw the image of a human infant, red-haired and scowling, swaddled in fine, embroidered linen and lace . . . and glowing with power. The babe was being held by a figure that Denoriel recognized¾the mortal king of England, Henry, eighth of that name. The lens misted again, and scene after scene played out briefly before him¾briefly, but enough to show him a future very bright for the mortals of England, a flowering of art, music, and letters, of great deeds, of exploration and bravery. Oh, there were problems¾¾twice, if Denoriel read the signs aright Spain sent a great fleet against England, only to be repulsed at minimal cost. But the troubles were weathered, the difficulties overcome, and the result was nearly an age of gold. "And this," said the lady of the ancient ways, "Is what will come to pass if that child does not reign." Fires . . . Black-robed priests, grim-faced and implacable, condemned scores, hundreds, to the Question, torturing their bodies until they would confess to anything, then burning what was left in front of silent onlookers. Others, whose intellects burned as brightly as the flames, did not need to be tortured; they confessed their sins of difference defiantly . . . and were also burned. In place of a flowering of art and science, came a blight. Darkness fell over the land, pressed there by the heavy, iron hand of Spain and the Inquisition. "You are the key to all of this." The FarSeer's emerald eyes held his. "The red-haired child of Great Harry of England must live, and thrive, and grow up to rule. You must go to it in the mortal world, and become its protector." "But I am a warrior, not a nursemaid¾" he said, feebly. At the publisher's request, this title is sold without DRM (Digital Rights Management).

Tired of the pace and noise of life near London and longing for a better place to raise their young children, Mary J. MacLeod and her husband encountered their dream while vacationing on a remote island in the Scottish Hebrides. Enthralled by its windswept beauty, they soon were the proud owners of a near-derelict croft house—a farmer’s stone cottage—on “a small acre” of land. Mary assumed duties as the island’s district nurse. Call the Nurse is her account of the enchanted years she and her family spent there, coming to know its folk as both patients and friends. In anecdotes that are by turns funny, sad, moving, and tragic, she recalls them all, the crofters and their laird, the boatmen and tradesmen, young lovers and forbidding churchmen. Against the old-fashioned island culture and the grandeur of mountain and sea unfold indelible stories: a young woman carried through snow for airlift to the hospital; a rescue by boat; the marriage of a gentle giant and the island beauty; a ghostly encounter; the shocking discovery of a woman in chains; the flames of a heather fire at night; an unexploded bomb from World War II; and the joyful, tipsy celebration of a ceilidh. Gaelic fortitude meets a nurse’s compassion in these wonderful true stories from rural Scotland.

This book is filled with all the things little brown boys love.