Chris, a research doctor, and Sophie are on holiday at Hadrian's Wall in England when Chris decides it's over. But Sophie finds another love, Jeremy Kiel, from the lab where she works.Jez and Jammer are brother and sister and find themselves in the middle of an adventure they will never forget, if they survive. Carried from their home by one of the large Jumper beasts, their world suddenly becomes unfamiliar and hostile. The House of the Gods is near and the Gods are stirring. It is life or death for Jez and Jammer, unless they can find their way home.The Giant Gods are not far away though and the dangers of the land are full of gargantuan creatures and hungry insects and beasts hiding in the forests. The darkness of night soon descends upon them and hope is all but lost.Join the two on their adventure to find out what happens. Views: 245
Illustrated with 10 unique illustrations.Away in the WildernessThe Battery and the BoilerThe Battle and the BreezeBattles with the SeaThe Big OtterBlack IvoryBlown to BitsBlue LightsThe Buffalo RunnersThe Cannibal IslandsCharlie to the RescueChasing the SunThe Coral IslandThe Coxswain\'s BrideThe Crew of the Water WagtailDeep Down, a Tale of the Cornish MinesDigging for GoldThe Dog Crusoe and his MasterDusty Diamonds Cut and PolishedThe Eagle CliffErling the BoldFast in the IceFighting the FlamesFighting the WhalesThe Floating Light of the Goodwin SandsFort DesolationFreaks on the FellsThe FugitivesThe Garret and the GardenGascoyne, the Sandal-Wood TraderThe Giant of the NorthThe Golden DreamThe Gorilla HuntersHandbook to the new Gold-fieldsThe Hot SwampHudson BayHunted and HarriedHunting the LionsThe Island QueenThe LifeboatLife in the Red BrigadeThe LighthouseThe Lonely IslandThe Madman and the PirateMartin RattlerThe Norsemen in the WestOver the Rocky MountainsPhilosopher JackThe PioneersThe Pirate CityThe Red Man\'s RevengeRivers of IceSunk at SeaThe Young Fur Traders Views: 245
Could an unlikely bond......be the answer to their dreams?Nurse Stevie hates feeling out of her depth. But with a new job and a son who's struggling to settle in, she needs help. She just didn't expect it to come in the shape of her boss and one adorable dog! On paper, Josh is everything Stevie should avoid. But beneath his charming exterior is a heart also in need of rescuing...From Harlequin Medical: Life and love in the world of modern medicine.Twins Reunited on the Children's WardBook 1: A Pup to Rescue Their HeartsBook 2: A Surgeon with a Secret Views: 245
Digging for Gold - Adventures in California is presented here in a high quality paperback edition. This popular classic work by R. M. (Robert Michael) Ballantyne is in the English language, and may not include graphics or images from the original edition. If you enjoy the works of R. M. (Robert Michael) Ballantyne then we highly recommend this publication for your book collection. Views: 245
Wreck of Winstanley’s Lighthouse. “At mischief again, of course: always at it.” Mrs Potter said this angrily, and with much emphasis, as she seized her son by the arm and dragged him out of a pool of dirty water, into which he had tumbled. “Always at mischief of one sort or another, he is,” continued Mrs Potter, with increasing wrath, “morning, noon, and night—he is; tumblin’ about an’ smashin’ things for ever he does; he’ll break my heart at last—he will. There: take that!” “That,” which poor little Tommy was desired to take, was a sounding box on the ear, accompanied by a violent shake of the arm which would have drawn that limb out of its socket if the child’s bones and muscles had not been very tightly strung together. Mrs Potter was a woman of large body and small brain. In respect of reasoning power, she was little better than the wooden cuckoo which came out periodically from the interior of the clock that stood over her own fireplace and announced the hours. She entertained settled convictions on a few subjects, in regard to which she resembled a musical box. If you set her going on any of these, she would harp away until she had played the tune out, and then begin over again; but she never varied. Reasons, however good, or facts, however weighty, were utterly powerless to penetrate her skull: her “settled convictions” were not to be unsettled by any such means. Men might change their minds; philosophers might see fit to alter their opinions; weaklings of both sexes and all ages might trim their sails in accordance with the gales of advancing knowledge, but Mrs Potter—no: never! her colours were nailed to the mast. Like most people who unite a strong will with an empty head, she was “wiser in her own conceit than eleven men that can render a reason:” in brief, she was obstinate. One of her settled convictions was that her little son Tommy was “as full of mischief as a hegg is full of meat.” Another of these convictions was that children of all ages are tough; that it does them good to pull them about in a violent manner, at the risk even of dislocating their joints. It mattered nothing to Mrs Potter that many of her female friends and acquaintances held a different opinion. Some of these friends suggested to her that the hearts of the poor little things were tender, as well as their muscles and bones and sinews; that children were delicate flowers, or rather buds, which required careful tending and gentle nursing. Mrs Potter’s reply was invariably, “Fiddlesticks!” she knew better. They were obstinate and self-willed little brats that required constant banging. She knew how to train ’em up, she did; and it was of no manner of use, it wasn’t, to talk to her upon that point. She was right. It was of no use. As well might one have talked to the wooden cuckoo, already referred to, in Mrs Potter’s timepiece. “Come, Martha,” said a tall, broad-shouldered, deep-voiced man at her elbow, “don’t wop the poor cheeld like that.... Views: 244
This work has been selected by scholars as being culturally important, and is part of the knowledge base of civilization as we know it. This work was reproduced from the original artifact, and remains as true to the original work as possible. Therefore, you will see the original copyright references, library stamps (as most of these works have been housed in our most important libraries around the world), and other notations in the work. This work is in the public domain in the United States of America, and possibly other nations. Within the United States, you may freely copy and distribute this work, as no entity (individual or corporate) has a copyright on the body of the work.As a reproduction of a historical artifact, this work may contain missing or blurred pages, poor pictures, errant marks, etc. Scholars believe, and we concur, that this work is important enough to be preserved, reproduced, and made generally available to the public. We appreciate your support of the preservation process, and thank you for being an important part of keeping this knowledge alive and relevant.
--This text refers to an alternate Paperback edition.
--This text refers to an alternate Paperback edition. Views: 241
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. Views: 241
George Manville Fenn was an English novelist and journalist who wrote across a variety of genres, both fiction and nonfiction. His works are still widely read today. Views: 240
The Wild Karroo. A solitary horseman—a youth in early manhood—riding at a snail’s pace over the great plains, or karroo, of South Africa. His chin on his breast; his hands in the pockets of an old shooting-coat; his legs in ragged trousers, and his feet in worn-out boots. Regardless of stirrups, the last are dangling. The reins hang on the neck of his steed, whose head may be said to dangle from its shoulders, so nearly does its nose approach the ground. A felt hat covers the youth’s curly black head, and a double-barrelled gun is slung across his broad shoulders. We present this picture to the reader as a subject of contemplation. It was in the first quarter of the present century that the youth referred to—Charlie Considine by name—rode thus meditatively over that South African karroo. His depression was evidently not due to lack of spirit, for, when he suddenly awoke from his reverie, drew himself up and shook back his hair, his dark eyes opened with something like a flash. They lost some of their fire, however, as he gazed round on the hot plain which undulated like the great ocean to the horizon, where a line of blue indicated mountains. The truth is that Charlie Considine was lost—utterly lost on the karroo! That his horse was in the same lost condition became apparent from its stopping without orders and looking round languidly with a sigh. “Come, Rob Roy,” said the youth, gathering up the reins and patting the steed’s neck, “this will never do. You and I must not give in to our first misfortune. No doubt the want of water for two days is hard to bear, but we are strong and young both of us. Come, let’s try at least for a sheltering bush to sleep under, before the sun goes down.” Animated by the cheering voice, if not by the words, of its rider, the horse responded to the exhortation by breaking into a shuffling canter. After a short time the youth came in sight of what appeared to be a herd of cattle in the far distance. In eager expectation he galloped towards them and found that his conjectures were correct. They were cattle in charge of one of that lowest of the human race, a Bushman. The diminutive, black-skinned, and monkey-faced creature was nearly naked. He carried a sheepskin kaross, or blanket, on his left shoulder, and a knobbed stick, or “kerrie,” in his right hand. “Can you speak English?” asked Considine as he rode up. The Bushman looked vacant and made no reply. “Where is your master’s house?” asked the youth. A stare was the only answer. “Can’t you speak, you dried-up essence of stupidity!” exclaimed Charlie with impatience. At this the Bushman uttered something with so many klicks, klucks, and gurgles in it that his interrogator at once relinquished the use of the tongue, and took to signs, but with no better success, his efforts having only the effect of causing the mouth of the Bushman to expand from ear to ear. Uttering a few more klicks and gurgles, he pointed in the direction of the setting sun.... Views: 239
George Washington Hayduke III was last seen clinging to a rock face in the wilds of Utah as an armed posse hunted him down for his eco-radicalist crimes. Now he is back with a fiery need for vengeance.
In this sequel to the enormously popular and entertaining The Monkey Wrench Gang, Hayduke teams up with his old pals Doc Sarvis, Seldom Seen Smith, and Bonnie Abbzug in a battle against the world’s biggest earth-moving machine. Fundamentalist preacher Dudley Love, the mastermind behind "G O L I A T H," wants to turn the Grand Canyon into a uranium mine, but not if eco-warrior Hayduke and his group of committed environmentalist friends have anything to say about it.
Hayduke Lives! is full of noisy politics and seemingly improbable situations (yet all too real) that showcase Abbey’s energetic prose and his infectious comic genius as a writer. Views: 239
The Crystal Hunters - A Boy\'s Adventures in the Higher Alps is presented here in a high quality paperback edition. This popular classic work by George Manville Fenn is in the English language, and may not include graphics or images from the original edition. If you enjoy the works of George Manville Fenn then we highly recommend this publication for your book collection. Views: 238
The Scottish juvenile fiction writer R. M. Ballantyne was born into a famous family of publishers. Leaving home at age 16 he went to work for the Hudson\'s Bay Company; after returning home to Scotland R. M. Ballantyne published his first book "Hudson\'s Bay" detailing his experiences in Canada. Later Ballantyne would write about more of his experiences with Native Americans and the Fur trappers he met in the most remote regions of Canada. With his success as a writer he withdrew from the business world to become a full time writer for the rest of his life. With over a hundred different books he has become one of the most cherished juvenile fiction writers today. Along with his other exploits throughout his life he also was tremendously successful with his artwork as his water color paintings were displayed at the Royal Scottish Academy. Views: 237
This book was converted from its physical edition to the digital format by a community of volunteers. You may find it for free on the web. Purchase of the Kindle edition includes wireless delivery. Views: 237
The Cause of the Whole Affair. Ned Sinton gazed at the scene before him with indescribable amazement! He had often witnessed strange things in the course of his short though chequered life, but he had never seen anything like this. Many a dream of the most extravagant nature had surrounded his pillow with creatures of curious form and scenes of magic beauty, but never before, either by actual observation or in nightly vision, had Ned Sinton beheld a scene so wonderful as that which now lay spread out before him. Ned stood in the centre of a cavern of vast dimensions—so vast, and so full of intense light, that instead of looking on it as a huge cave, he felt disposed to regard it as a small world. The sides of this cavern were made of pure gold, and the roof—far above his head—was spangled all over with glittering points, like a starry sky. The ground, too, and, in short, everything within the cave, was made of the same precious metal. Thousands of stalactites hung from the roof like golden icicles. Millions of delicate threads of the same material also depended from the star-spangled vault, each thread having a golden ball at the end of it, which, strange to say, was transparent, and permitted a bright flame within to shine through, and shed a yellow lustre over surrounding objects. All the edges, and angles, and points of the irregularly-formed walls were of burnished gold, which reflected the rays of these pendant lamps with dazzling brilliancy, while the broad masses of the frosted walls shone with a subdued light. Magnificent curtains of golden filigree fell in rich voluminous folds on the pavement, half concealing several archways which led into smaller caverns, similar to the large one. Altogether it was a scene of luxurious richness and splendour that is utterly indescribable. But the thing that amazed Ned Sinton most was, that the company of well-dressed ladies and gentlemen who moved about in these splendid halls, and ate golden ices, or listened to the exquisite strains of music that floated on the atmosphere, were all as yellow as guineas! Ned could by no means understand this. In order to convince himself that there was no deception in the matter, he shook hands with several of the people nearest to him, and found that they were cold and hard as iron; although, to all appearance, they were soft and pliable, and could evidently move about with perfect freedom. Ned was very much puzzled indeed. One would have thought he must have believed himself to be dreaming. Not a bit of it. He knew perfectly well that he was wide-awake. In fact, a doubt upon that point never crossed his mind for a moment. At length he resolved to ask the meaning of it all, and, observing a stout old gentleman, with a bland smile on his yellow countenance, in the act of taking a pinch of golden snuff from a gold snuff-box, he advanced and accosted him. “Pray, sir,” began Ned, modestly, “may I take the liberty of asking you what is the meaning of all this?” “All what, sir?” inquired the old gentleman, in a deep metallic voice.... Views: 237
