The Old Man and the Tee presents one man's hilarious and heartwarming quest to drop 10 strokes from his golf game in a year, using the top teachers, pros, and equipment money can buy. As a kid caddying for his father on the sunburned links of West Texas, Turk Pipkin had dreamed of great achievements in golf. Unfortunately, life got in the way. A lack of talent didn't help much either. It was not until his father passed away that Turk realized he'd forgotten his childhood dream and had lost the simple joy he'd once found in the game. Deciding that the time for all his pitiful golf excuses was past, Turk embarked upon the golf quest of a lifetime. For twelve months, he'd ignore work and other distractions, and dedicate himself to the game. He'd seek instruction from golf's greatest teachers, put the best equipment in his bag, and play the world's finest courses. His seemingly impossible goal was to take ten strokes off his 16-handicap. With lessons from David Leadbetter, Dave Pelz, and Ben Crenshaw, and with spiritual guidance from great old men like Willie Nelson, George Plimpton, and Byron Nelson, Turk's epic journey carries him from Pebble Beach to Scotland and back again, where he risks everything on one final round for his father. Follow Turk on the journey of a lifetime, and learn to love golf-and life- all over again.

Roger Angell, the acclaimed New Yorker writer and editor, steps up with a selection of writings that celebrate a view from the tenth decade of an engaged, vibrant life. Whether it’s a Fourth of July in rural Maine, the opening game of the 2015 World Series, editorial exchanges with John Updike, a letter to a son, or his award-winning essay on aging, “This Old Man,” what links the pieces is Angell’s unique perceptions and humor, his utter absence of self-pity, and his appreciation of friends and colleagues encountered over a fruitful career unlike any other.

AN AURORA AWARD WINNING COLLECTION! Four women. Four shooters. Four destinies to save the world… The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse are coming. And four Archangels must find the perfect champions to save the world: fighters, warriors, soldiers, and brave men, all ready to fight for humanity against end times. All they have to do is drink a shooter — a caustic mix of alcohol and divinity that will imbue them with the conviction to battle the Four. The only problem is these warriors don’t drink the shooters. Call it fate, chance, or what you will, but four women drink the divine concoction. Alexandra Carlton, Julia Wolfe, Emily Keller and Dinah Medrano must all take up the mantles of champions … whether they want to or not. Four writers, four horsemen, four Women of the Apocalypse. The world will never be the same again. Praise: "This book has a very different premise. Archangels, all men, leave a guy (Tobias) on earth to warn them if the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse plan to destroy humanity. That guy is supposed to get four male champions to fight the horsemen. When four women drink the Four Horsemen shooters (and there’s a recipe) and get empowered instead of the men, the angels aren’t happy. Then the fun begins. Four very different stories, all with surprises. I was going to read one story each night. I read all four stories last night. This whole book is a very good read, every story. Angels aren’t always what you think they are and neither are the horsemen. And I warn you, you might get your eyes opened about where famine will strike." – Lin, amazon.com "Women of the Apocalypse is a great example of the welcome, though long overdue, trend in fantasy writing towards women as central characters—as heroes. The story involves four different women, each of whom have unwittingly become a warrior to champion the cause of humanity against one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse: war, famine, pestilence or death." – Derek Donais, goodreads "What I liked about this book was the fact that it really showed off the novella's strengths as a literary form. I liked the concept of the four connected novellas, each of which developed a strong, independent story that worked within the wider frame narrative. The stories contained were fast-paced, snappy and uniformly well written." – Helen Marshall

I took the train east, all the way to El Paso, Texas. I was sure that the train making twenty miles an hour would get me to the mountain pass west of the Texas line ahead of them. The best they could hope for would be twenty or twenty-five miles a day on horseback. If New Orleans really was their destination they would almost certainly have to use this particular route. Of course they might swing north, but that didn’t make a lot of sense either, travelers using the northern route lately had been killed by roaming bands of renegade Indians that the troopers had not been able to stop. And south, well south, south they would have to swing into Mexico where the beginning of a revolution was in the making. So that would not be a smart move either. No, I would pick me a good spot overlooking the pass and be waiting for Ben and Sam Melody when they came through on their way to Louisiana. I wasn’t exactly sure just how I was going to approach these killers. But I had made a deal with Ruth Tyrell, and if I could, I would bring her two murdering nephews in alive rather than dead. If I could. I even went so far as to borrow two sets of shackles from Marshal Rex Bulett when I left Yuma. So I guess you could say I was thinking I could bring them in alive. Killing them would not be hard, killing a man is easy, capturing him alive is an altogether different thing. If I were able to get them afoot I might get the job done. I deplore killing animals to get the men I’m after, that might be the only choice available to me. And along those lines I bought two cheap horses and lead them behind me when I rode out of El Paso. I instinctively knew that stepping out into the road, blocking their path, and ordering them to surrender would not work. They would force me to shoot them, and being on horseback, the advantage would be on their side. Horses don’t like gunfire, some of them get really jumpy, and will go wild on you in a minute. I might not be able to place my shots and one or both could end up dead. But if they were afoot then the upper hand would fall back on my side. Unless I could get really lucky and walk up on them in a night camp, I might have to shoot their horses from under them. It was a dilemma no doubt, but I had given my word, and if a man has nothing else in this ole world he has that. But I also know that a man’s word, spoken, or implied, along with his belief in self worth is the most important treasure he will ever possess.