Southern Illinois through the eyes of a lady who has lived almost the entire twentieth century. It is presented in a simple, easy to read format using her own words. She found the simple, honest, and hard work of country life to be very rewarding. This is her story.

The year is 1998. Theresa receives a phone call from David, an old friend, which prompts a series of flashbacks to the summer of 1983. Theresa and her best friends, Beth and Donna, were twelve years old and seemed to have the adventures of a lifetime that summer. Between their troubled home-lives and encounters with the menacing Jordan brothers, the three friends lived through a summer they wouldn't soon forget. Now, as adults, they share in each other's experiences, still trying to overcome their traumatic childhood. As they drudge up their bad memories, the Jordan brothers return, ready to finish what they started when they were children. It's up to Theresa, Beth, and Donna to put an end to the brothers' reign of terror, while also battling their own inner demons.

In this book you will find inspiration, building blocks for your life, and perhaps some rubble. Read it, enjoy it, and use it to broaden and enhance your life.

George's great love for his family and the outdoors comes across in the poems he's written. By preserving the memories of his family younger generations will know what a great heritage they have. Shane's Dragons is a fictional story about a young man who started his life on the footsteps of an orphanage and the many obstacles he encountered while reaching his goal of becoming a success in life.

A moving memoir from Frank Bird, one of the last of a generation of pit workers in South Yorkshire.

Kolar Gold Fields is a small mining town in the erstwhile Mysore State (now known as Karnataka) in India. It was owned by the John Taylor and Sons Company, a British Mining Firm for more than a century. It was well known for its Colonial ambience and was called Little England due to its British and Anglo-Indian population. It was one of Indias earliest industrialized towns and was unique for its secular and egalitarian society. Aptly named Kolar Gold Fields Down Memory Lane the book undertakes a nostalgic journey right from the days of the origins of the Kolar Gold Mines, its historical and mythological connections, its golden progress through the years under the John Taylor and Sons Company, its gradual decline, and the final closure of the once prosperous Kolar Gold Mining Company in 2003. Thus ending a golden chapter in History, which now lies buried in the annals of time. It then moves on to the Anglo-Indian Community (a living legacy of the British Raj) in the early days of KGF. It brings out vividly the glorious and cosmopolitan life led by that tiny vibrant community in KGF who lived in sprawling bungalows with beautiful gardens and domestic helpers at their beck and call. It recalls the grand Christmas Balls and Dances held at the Skating Rink and the Jam Sessions and Pound Parties in Buffalo Lodge. It finally focuses on the author's childhood memories of growing up in KGF in the 1950s and 60s. It reminds one of lifes many simple pleasures home, family, school, playmates, entertainments, games, etc. It recalls memories of old familiar haunts and landmarks of KGF and the people who were an indispensable part of life in those days. It succeeds in preserving the nuances of a bygone era.

All the memories of a man in his life, whether it might be of heart-warming or heart-breaking, should not go buried along with his last breath, but should leave some inputs to his family members, relatives and friends to make them aware of his past life track for their future guidance. At the same time, if the same man happens to be a person who had served in any public service organization, then his memories should not go vanished away along with his soul. However, such memories should necessarily leave a lesson to his successors and all the common public to learn the morals and to realize the things, as to how the problems are raised in societies and how the same could be prevented. Unlike the other departmental officials of the government services, the police officials would not have an opportunity of second innings to continue their services in any other sector after their retirement, as the police service is entirely different from other services of the governing bodies, like technical, educational, medical, and commercial services. Because of this, most of the retired police officials would feel themselves isolated and spend the remaining part of their lifetime in a lackadaisical manner. Under such circumstances, it is my son Arulmurugan, and my daughter Sivasakthi, who are now living respectively in Michigan and Arizona States of USA, have suggested me to write some useful articles in blog, a kind of website, to share my thoughts in good faith with hundreds and thousands of readers over the months and years. My children's encouragement and guidance empowered me to enter into such blog-writings and publish the same in my blog site. As far as the police department is concerned in olden days, our traditional practice was to write everything manually by our own hand for all kinds of script works until the police department was modernized. As I had been accustomed for a long time only to such manual writings, I gradually learned the system related works and started to login into my blog site and write the articles directly in my blog after my superannuation. Initially, I was writing on some social issues in my blog. Then, a spark came in my mind as to why should not I write short stories in my blog, based on the cruxes of some past occurrences that came across in my police service. Since I had been in the regular habit of preparing my case diaries and the investigation reports in my own handwriting throughout my service, it was easy for me to recollect some past occurrences and shape up the same in the form of short stories, adding some spicy essence to pep up the style of writing. While writing such short stories, I shaped up the same with an object of giving some moral messages, thrill, fun, and some social thoughts to every reader, without touching the sentiments of anyone. The names of the characters in the short stories and the articles have been changed. I have spent almost all the days, after my superannuation, in writing fifty-five episodes, most of which are short stories and few are satirical article to poke fun at some social evils and injustice, with a narrative style of a professional storyteller. At this moment, I would like to make a self-explanation. Yes! Some may think as to why this Policeman has written this book in English. First, I would like to state that I love my mother tongue Tamil, the most ancient of all other languages. Anyhow, I had a little passion of learning one more language in addition to my mother tongue, because of which, I had a brief interest in grooming the English language in me. I have written this book in English with an idea of conveying my short stories and thoughts to all the people irrespective of linguistic variations and regional differences. - K.Manickavasagam Dy.Superintendent of Police (Retd)

This story begins in 1881 when the author's father was born in Southampton, England. He immigrated to Canada, settled in Saskatchewan, raised a family-Agnes, being the youngest-growing up on a prairie farm. We follow the joys and sorrows of the Palmer family through to 1946 when Agnes accepts a teaching position in Rutland near Kelowna, B.C.

My husband, Leo, and I had known each other since childhood. After he was discharged from the navy, he looked me up, and we began seeing each other, fell in love, and married in 1947. We lived in Fairhaven, Massachusetts, for over forty years, and when we retired, we moved to Florida, where the weather was warmer. We had many adventures raising a large family in the suburbs. My Leo passed away in 2012. He had always wanted me to publish my poetry. Well, being retired now with more time on my hands, I decided to fulfill his wish. I found it most enjoyable reliving the past and all the fun we had while bringing up our family. Please join us in our little adventures and chuckle a bit now and then. Each day brought a new adventure to write about, and I find life still full of interest for me. Read on, and I invite you to bring yourself into each adventure with me.