As soon as Molly arrives at her aunt and uncle's ranch in rural Washington, things start to go very wrong. Her cousin hates her on sight. Her aunt falls into a mysterious coma. Then, left alone on the huge property, Molly and her cousin discover an intruder lurking in the barn! Armed and desperate, he drags them to the top of a nearby mountain--and triggers an avalanche with a gunshot. Can they make it down the mountain alive?

It was a cold yet breathtakingly beautiful day in January 1995 when Mike Couillard, a United States Air Force officer on assignment in Turkey, took his son Matthew skiing. As they rode the T-bar to the magnificent peaks of the 7,300-foot-high Kartalkaya Mountain, there was nothing to foretell the nightmare that was to come.It was the middle of the afternoon when they reached the top and, although it had started to snow, they still had time to ski. An experienced skier, Mike made note of his surroundings and kept the overhead line in sight as they glided downward. But suddenly the snow fell harder, visibility decreased, hidden rocks sent them plunging into the snow, and dense stands of pine trees forced them off the trail. Desperately, they looked for the lift line - or anything familiar - and saw nothing but white. They were lost.In the days that followed, Mike and his son desperately fought cold and hunger, while U.S. and Turkish teams were conducting a massive search and the story was making headlines throughout the world. But as hope for survival dwindled, their family and friends could do nothing but pray. Mike a Matt also asked for God's help, as Mike made the most difficult decision of his life - on that could mean death or salvation.

THE MOUNTAIN OF FEARS DOCTOR,” said my shipmate, Dr. Leyden, “have you ever made any especial study of nervous diseases—central nervous diseases—morbid conditions resulting from a derangement of the central cells?” I told him that I had done only such work in this branch as a general practice would require, but that I had observed some few cases of especial interest during a military surgical service in the East, and proceeded to cite one or two instances of mental vagaries resulting from gunshot wounds in the head. Leyden leaned both elbows on the taffrail and listened restlessly. Our little ship swashed through the short sling of the Spanish Main, the Pole star gleaming ahead, the Southern Cross blazing astern, and all about the white, flashing crests of the phosphorescent sea. Usually Leyden was a good listener, but this night he seemed impatient, restive, to such an extent that I finally paused, annoyed, for nothing is so irritating as lack of attention to a solicited reply. “Ach! but those cases are in the line of the ordinary!” he exclaimed. “Pardon me,” I replied, “but the last case I have given was distinctly out of the ordinary.” “I am awkward, Doctor,” said Leyden, apologetically. “I mean that the relations of cause and effect follow the usual course—the histological changes in the cell produced impaired function of the organ and these primary changes were the result of trauma. But have you ever had occasion to observe the reverse of this condition—the action of the organ on the center—like a nightmare, where one has the liver poisoning the central cells——” I interrupted in my turn. Leyden was no doubt a skilled naturalist, a close observer and a man of deep power of thought and analysis, but he was not a physician, had never made a regular study of physiological chemistry, and was, therefore, scarcely in a position to argue with a person who had. “Such cases are not infrequent,” I answered. “The ancient Greeks understood that much, as we see from their terms. ‘Hypochondria’; under the ribs—the liver probably poisoning the brain, if you like; then there is the condition of hysteria often accompanying a movable kidney; the action of certain drugs on special centers——” “Such as cannabis indica?” interrupted Leyden, “which affects the sense of elapsed time and makes the subject happy—or—what is that principle, Doctor, which produces xanthopsia, or yellow vision, and makes one sluggish and depressed?” “Xanthopsia is an early symptom of santonin poisoning,” I answered. “The alkaloid is obtained from the unexpanded flower-heads of the——” “Artemisia maritima—yes—I know the plant—but the active principle might occur elsewhere?” “Possibly——” “It is wonderful,” mused Leyden, in the self-communicative tone that was often difficult to follow—“the microscopic filament that makes or unmakes a man; the minute neurons which carry such a potent impulse—like the flash crossing a continent on a tiny wire to send two great nations to war. The wire is short-circuited, the nation disgraced; the neuron short-circuited, the individual disgraced. Such a thing once happened to me, Doctor. To be continue in this ebook...

Is there anything new to say about Thomas Jefferson and slavery? The answer is a resounding yes. Master of the Mountain, Henry Wiencek's eloquent, persuasive book—based on new information coming from archaeological work at Monticello and on hitherto overlooked or disregarded evidence in Jefferson's papers—opens up a huge, poorly understood dimension of Jefferson's world. We must, Wiencek suggests, follow the money. So far, historians have offered only easy irony or paradox to explain this extraordinary Founding Father who was an emancipationist in his youth and then recoiled from his own inspiring rhetoric and equivocated about slavery; who enjoyed his renown as a revolutionary leader yet kept some of his own children as slaves. But Wiencek's Jefferson is a man of business and public affairs who makes a success of his debt-ridden plantation thanks to what he calls the "silent profits" gained from his slaves—and thanks to a skewed moral universe that he and thousands of others readily inhabited. We see Jefferson taking out a slave-equity line of credit with a Dutch bank to finance the building of Monticello and deftly creating smoke screens when visitors are dismayed by his apparent endorsement of a system they thought he'd vowed to overturn. It is not a pretty story. Slave boys are whipped to make them work in the nail factory at Monticello that pays Jefferson's grocery bills. Parents are divided from children—in his ledgers they are recast as money—while he composes theories that obscure the dynamics of what some of his friends call "a vile commerce." Many people of Jefferson's time saw a catastrophe coming and tried to stop it, but not Jefferson. The pursuit of happiness had been badly distorted, and an oligarchy was getting very rich. Is this the quintessential American story?

"Should appeal to all rugged individualists who dream of escape to the forest."—The New York Times Book Review Sam Gribley is terribly unhappy living in New York City with his family, so he runs away to the Catskill Mountains to live in the woods—all by himself. With only a penknife, a ball of cord, forty dollars, and some flint and steel, he intends to survive on his own. Sam learns about courage, danger, and independence during his year in the wilderness, a year that changes his life forever. “An extraordinary book . . . It will be read year after year.” —The Horn Book

"It’s impossible not to be charmed by Edgar Donahoe (Publishers Weekly)," and he’s back for another misguided adventure. When Edgar is expelled from college for drunkenly bellowing expletives from a dorm window at 3:00 am, he hitchhikes to Colorado and trains as a cook. A postcard arrives from Edgar’s college buddy, Mountain Moses, inviting him to a Caribbean island. Once there Edgar cooks at the local tourist resort and falls in love with Mountain’s girl, Kate. He becomes embroiled in a love triangle and his troubles multiply as he is stalked by murderous island native Chollie Legion. Even Cinnamon Jim, the medicine man, is no help. Ultimately it takes a hurricane to blow Edgar out of this mess.

Set in modern-day Toronto and the ancient kingdoms of Mytica, two warring evils vie for possession of one elusive, powerful book.