The sunshine of a fair Spring morning fell graciously on London town. Out in Piccadilly its heartening warmth seemed to infuse into traffic and pedestrians alike a novel jauntiness, so that bus drivers jested and even the lips of chauffeurs uncurled into not unkindly smiles. Policemen whistled at their posts—clerks, on their way to work; beggars approached the task of trying to persuade perfect strangers to bear the burden of their maintenance with that optimistic vim which makes all the difference. It was one of those happy mornings. At nine o\'clock precisely the door of Number Seven Arundell Street, Leicester Square, opened and a young man stepped out.

In Brody and Kate's continuing story, pressures mount with the threat of a supernatural attack. Mercenary fae send hard luck and scouts to soften their target, while the few who know of the impending invasion struggle to understand the danger they face.Roland Barcus was just a maintenance guy with a good job and a good salary on the deep space survey ship The Ventura. The outer ring is the 2-G level on the ship where very few people live or work. People like Barcus and his friends.The last day of the Ventura would begin a series of events that would ultimately result in the Solstice 31 Incident.

A Blandings novel Can the Empress of Blandings win the Fat Pigs class at the Shropshire Show for the third year running? Galahad Threepwood, Beach the butler and others have put their shirt on this, and for Lord Emsworth it will be paradise on earth. But a substantial obstacle lurks in the way: Queen of Matchingham, the new sow of Sir Gregory Parsloe Bart. Galahad knows this pretender to the crown must be pignapped. But can the Empress in turn avoid a similar fate? In this classic Blandings novel, pigs rise above their bulk to vanish and reappear in the most unlikely places, while young lovers are crossed and recrossed in every room in Blandings Castle.

The Adventures of Sally is a novel by P.G. Wodehouse. It appeared as a serial in Collier\'s magazine in the United States from October 8 to December 31, 1921, and in The Grand Magazine in the United Kingdom from April to July 1922. It was first published in book form in the United Kingdom by Herbert Jenkins on 17 October 1922, and in the U.S. by George H. Doran on March 23, 1923, under the title Mostly Sally.[1] It was serialised again, under this second title, in The Household Magazine from November 1925 to April 1926. The novel relates the adventures of Sally Nicholas, a young American woman who inherits a fortune of $25,000.

The curious case of the Maiden Eggesford Horror.When the doctor advises Bertie to live the quiet life, he and Jeeves head for the pure air and peace of Maiden Eggesford. However, they hadn't reckoned on Bertie's irrepressible but decidedly scheming Aunt Dahlia around whom an imbroglio of impressive proportions develops involving The Cat Which Kept Popping Up When Least Expected. As Bertie observes, whatever aunts are, they are not gentlemen.A Jeeves and Wooster novelBertie Wooster has been overdoing metropolitan life a bit, and the doctor orders fresh air in the depths of the country. But after moving with Jeeves to his cottage at Maiden Eggesford, Bertie soon finds himself surrounded by aunts — not only his redoubtable Aunt Dahlia but an aunt of Jeeves's too. Add a hyper-sensitive racehorse, a very important cat and a decidedly bossy fiancée — and all the ingredients are present for a plot in which aunts can exert their terrible authority. But Jeeves, of course, can cope with everything — even aunts, and even the country.

Uncle Fred's nephew Pongo has just smashed the prized statue of his lady love's father. His troubles multiply as the replacement bust is revealed to be a smuggling vessel filled with jewels. This bust busting gut buster has Uncle Fred and Wodehouse himself at the very height of their work.

Take a Mexican political party that demands the territorial return of Texas... and New Mexico... and Arizona... and California. Add a Chinese paper exporting operation that exports a fine engraver's surface for the familiar five-dollar portrait of Lincoln. Stir with a Countess who has made a fortune in cosmetics and runsa private little kingdom at her castle deep in the Mexican jungle. Mix in the CIA and AXE, prickling each other's sensitivities while the nation and the highest men in government are stumped to stop the ruin of America's economy... And suddenly, in the meeting between Hawk and the CIA man, the ingredients have blended into a little pill they hand Nick Carter. His instructions are: straighten things out-or swallow your defeat in L pills!

SUMMARY: IA Blandings novel /IThis is the first Blandings novel, in which P.G. Wodehouse introduces us to the delightfully dotty Lord Emsworth, his bone-headed younger son, the Hon. Freddie Threepwood, his long-suffering secretary, the Efficient Baxter, and Beach the Blandings butler. As Wodehouse wrote, 'without at least one impostor on the premises, Blandings Castle is never itself'. In ISomething Fresh/I there are two, each with an eye on a valuable scarab which Lord Emsworth has acquired without quite realizing how it came into his pocket. But of course things get a lot more complicated than thisโฆ

Anthology containing:Something New by P. G. WodehouseLeave it to Psmith by UnknownBlandings Castle and Elsewhere by P. G. WodehouseSummer Lightning by P G WodehouseHeavy Weather by P. G. WodehouseLord Emsworth and Others by P G WodehouseUncle Fred in the Springtime by P.G. WodehouseFull Moon by P. G. WodehouseNothing Serious by P.G. WodehousePigs Have Wings by P G WodehouseService with a Smile by P.G. WodehouseGalahad at Blandings by P. G. WodehousePlum Pie by P. G. WodehouseA Pelican at Blandings by P.G. WodehouseSunset at Blandings by P.G. WodehouseThe Swoop: How Clarence Saved England by P G Wodehouse

A Jeeves and Wooster novel At Deverill Hall, an idyllic Tudor manor in the picture-perfect village of King's Deverill, impostors are in the air. The prime example is man-about-town Bertie Wooster, doing a good turn to Gussie Fink-Nottle by impersonating him while he enjoys fourteen days away from society after being caught taking an unscheduled dip in the fountains of Trafalgar Square. Bertie is of course one of nature's gentlemen, but the stakes are high: if all is revealed, there's a danger that Gussie's simpering fiancée Madeline may turn her wide eyes on Bertie instead. It's a brilliant plan - until Gussie himself turns up, imitating Bertram Wooster. After that, only the massive brain of Jeeves (himself in disguise) can set things right.

I wrote this short story for a class in intermediate fiction at the University of Colorado back in 1987 after reading a short story by John Ashbery titled, "Description of a Masque." I wrote it during the spring semester and just before I attended the Aspin Writers Conference, a life-altering event for me.You are blind and standing at the south rim of the Canyon. Gently and with kind words, as if performing a long overdue service for a patient of some convalescent hospital, he takes the cane from you, and you listen to the dull clunk of wood as he leans it against a rock. You learn that place, knowing you may have to return to it alone. The heat of midday sun is on your head, and you wish to see the wall of the north rim, realizing that the image can be nothing more than a mental fabrication. He returns, encourages you to stand a little closer to the edge. "To see," he says, "if you can sense what she must have — the ground plunge downward to the first plateau." He solicits more courage, urging you ahead, creating a comforting, therapeutic confidence in your action. "Don't be so timid. That's where they found her, you know, on the first plateau more than 2,000 feet below, which now has a thin covering of desert grass, just enough to give it a tinge of green. That's where she stopped."This world is a stranger to you, to both of you. But with the untimeliness of her passing, you must take extraordinary measures. And surely, it was your fault. You, who see even the fall of the least sparrow, failed to see the fall of your only daughter, the Little One. And so you are here. And since you refuse to discuss it, he treats it as amnesia. You feel strange standing on the very spot where the accident occurred. It was a very human event, simply a death.Now taking his suggestion, you lean, tentatively at first, then take a short step, feeling the ground gently slope off, the gravel move under your feet. Knowing he's close, you touch the thick hair and flesh of his arm, then feel him move from you, slightly back but still in touch, leaving you a little unsteady. An updraft rushes by, and then you detect a difference, an absence of reflected sound, a void in front of you as deep as that left in the heart from a sudden death. You yearn to cry out, to bounce an echo from the far wall, to make the abyss finite, to make it part of the Canyon. Instead, from within it comes the wordless cry of a human voice, a sound so strange, yet so complete in intent, young and old at the same time like that of a reincarnated child, lost and doomed to walk the face of the earth as an unaging spirit. "Do you hear that?" you ask. "Do you hear the voice from the Canyon?""I hear nothing but someone on horseback hurrying away on the dirt path and the occasional caw of a crow." His voice is now stiff and unconvincing. "If I try to listen with the ears of the blind, I hear the claws of squirrels in the trees behind us and just now the sound of children's laughter around the bend. But if I can't hear it, perhaps it is she calling you. Perhaps it would be only fitting for you to follow.""No. This is nothing like that. It comes from below. Maybe a climber stranded on a cliff," you lie. "There. I hear it again. It comes on the updraft."He leaves your touch and moves away from the edge as if seeking some strategic position. You hear him behind you, shuffling among the rocks, and you wonder if he's moving your cane. You wish to feel the tip on the ground, rake it from side to side, feel the dirt and push around loose rocks. You reach out in front as if with cane in hand, the other arm out to the side for balance. He's talking to you again, his voice subtly changed, hardly disguising an air of inquisition, asking if you remember being here, asking if the presence of the Canyon is somewhat familiar? Is it filtering through your darkness? He's close behind you, too close. "In the past, your eyes would have filled with a palette of colors, painting," he suggests, "the layered rim that cuts off the blue sky and the strata that goes from dirt-pink to chalk-white to rust, and the cliffs that fall away to the green valley and the river below."

A Twisted Tale of burkers and anatomists and how Victorian law was changed to bridle Victorian science."There was something about Mr Stapleton. Something different. No doubt about it, Mr Edward Stapleton was a man apart."Having first seen Her Majesty's Inspector of Anatomy in Westminster Hall, Tumbley comes face to face with him twenty years later when he, Tumbley, is a successful barrister on the verge of taking silk and Stapleton is surprisingly unchanged. It's the first rule of cross-examination: Never ask a question you don't know the answer to. After an evening with the singular Mr Stapleton Tumbley thinks that should be amended slightly. Never ask a question you'd rather not know the answer to.