For families who have experienced the death of a child, their private tragedy is all too often exacerbated by an inappropriate or incompetent professional response. For the professional charged with the responsibility of having to deal with unexpected child deaths, such as a pediatrician, a police officer, or social worker, this title offers guidance on how to respond adequately to this tragic event but also places the subject in a larger social context, examining the history, epidemiology, causes, and contributory factors surrounding the death of a child. The book also covers the prevalence and types of death, the role of the police in an unexpected child death, how to support families, how to undertake a serious case review, and how to prevent child deaths in the future. Part of the prestigious NSPCC Wiley Series in Safeguarding Children - The Multi-Professional Approach.

A woman is out to clear her cousin of murder charges after a blackmailer targeting the wealthy Carlisle family turns up dead. K.C. Carlisle and her cousin Kenneth Carlisle both grew up rich. Kenneth is a corporate lawyer in an exclusive Northern California seaside community while K.C. has a storefront office on the seedy side of town. She takes whatever kind of case walks in her door. But trouble appears one day when Francine Boutelle shows up pretending she wants to write an expose of the Carlisle family, including some dirt on K.C.'s late and highly respectable father. Francine has visited most of the family and is willing to keep the family secrets in exchange for cash. When Kenneth is accused of murdering the blackmailer, K.C. is determined to prove his innocence, no matter where the trail of blood and deception leads.

Busilmin. If you can imagine the end of the world, Busilmin is it. Busilmin brings the definition of isolated to life. It is this isolation, this remoteness, that defines existence in the depths of the rainforest. Death is life. Life is death. Survival is the bridge. It is into the heart of this seclusion that Mission Aviation Fellowship chooses to fly; into depths of this need that we conveyed our very young family. Out of this beautiful land that we departed with our much older family, and a lifetime of near-unbelievable memories. This is not about planes. The aircraft are only the scenery for the tale. These are the stories of our years in Papua New Guinea. All families have stories. The backdrop for our narrative is the end of the world, and that brings a unique flavour to these accounts. The Sibilanga pig. The bullet at Aiyura. Crocodiles. Rainbows. Strange food. Places with stranger names. All with one thing in common: unpredictable, unforeseen, unanticipated, unexpected.

Today, in the era of the spoiler alert, "surprise" in fiction is primarily associated with an unexpected plot twist, but in earlier usage, the word had darker and more complex meanings. Originally denoting a military ambush or physical assault, surprise went through a major semantic shift in the eighteenth century: from violent attack to pleasurable experience, and from external event to internal feeling. In Surprise, Christopher R. Miller studies that change as it took shape in literature ranging from Paradise Lost through the novels of Jane Austen. Miller argues that writers of the period exploited and arbitrated the dual nature of surprise in its sinister and benign forms. Even as surprise came to be associated with pleasure, it continued to be perceived as a problem: a sign of ignorance or naïveté, an uncontrollable reflex, a paralysis of rationality, and an experience of mere novelty or diversion for its own sake. In close readings of exemplary scenes--particularly those involving astonished or petrified characters--Miller shows how novelists sought to harness the energies of surprise toward edifying or comic ends, while registering its underpinnings in violence and mortal danger. In the Roman poet Horace's famous axiom, poetry should instruct and delight, but in the early eighteenth century, Joseph Addison signally amended that formula to suggest that the imaginative arts should surprise and delight. Investigating the significance of that substitution, Miller traces an intellectual history of surprise, involving Aristotelian poetics, Cartesian philosophy, Enlightenment concepts of the passions, eighteenth-century literary criticism and aesthetics, and modern emotion theory. Miller goes on to offer a fresh reading of what it means to be "surprised by sin" in Paradise Lost, showing how Milton's epic both harks back to the symbolic functions of violence in allegory and looks ahead to the moral contours of the novel. Subsequent chapters study the Miltonic ramifications of surprise in the novels of Defoe, Haywood, Richardson, Fielding, and Sterne, as well as in the poems of Wordsworth and Keats. By focusing on surprise in its inflections as emotion, cognition, and event, Miller's book illuminates connections between allegory and formal realism, between aesthetic discourse and prose fiction, and between novel and lyric; and it offers new ways of thinking about the aesthetic and ethical dimensions of the novel as the genre emerged in the eighteenth century.

This volume brings together the leaders in the field of PTSD research to present an up-to-date summary and understanding of this complex disorder. All of our current knowledge and controversies concerning the diagnosis, epidemiology, course, pathophysiology and treatment are described in detail. The evidence for efficacy for each of the different forms of psychotherapy and pharmacotherapy is reviewed. Particular attention is paid to at-risk groups, including minorities, and coverage of PTSD throughout the world is reviewed as well. The authors present state-of-the-art findings in genetics, epigenetics, neurotransmitter function and brain imaging to provide the most current and comprehensive review of this burgeoning field.

This book is a survey of personal illness as described in various forms of early modern manuscript life-writing. How did people in the seventeenth century rationalise and record illness? Observing that medical explanations for illness were fewer than may be imagined, the author explores the social and religious frameworks by which illness was more commonly recorded and understood. The story that emerges is of illness written into personal manuscripts in prescriptive rather than original terms. This study uncovers the ways in which illness, so described, contributed to the self-patterning these texts were set up to perform.