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The Year is 1942. Imperial Japan conquered most of the Pacific in a blitzkrieg campaign that stunned the world. The Dutch East Indies, The Philippines, New Guinea, New Britain, Hawaii, the Fijis, and countless other territories have fallen. With landings in Australia, raids on the U.S. Mainland, and campaigns in Burma, the Imperial forces have expanded the Japanese realm and still look unstoppable. The Allies are now regrouping from the catastrophic losses they have taken in the last six months.

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to chuck it all in and do something completely different? One night over a few too many beers, Sam Manicom decided to ride a motorcycle the length of Africa. A mad idea? Or a world of opportunity opening up? There was just one obstacle; Sam didn’t know how to ride a motorcycle, and if he was going to make it through the Sahara before the months of intense summer heat hit, he had just 3 months to learn and get across Europe to Egypt. Into Africa is a story that takes you exploring an incredible continent.

It is 1901, and Dr Gallagher has just pronounced Murray Hall dead. New York politico, gambler, womaniser - Hall is all these things, but when the press break the news of his death to the world, they reveal a side to his identity he never wanted known, a secret no one could have guessed. One journalist is determined to uncover the truth of Hall's past, but his search leads him down winding alleys of fact and fiction. From humble beginnings in Glasgow's tenements to a life spent rubbing up against New York's political elite, Murray Hall is the definition of a self-made man.

William Woodruff had the sort of childhood satirized in the famous Monty Python Yorkshireman sketch. The son of a weaver, he was born on a pallet of straw at the back of the mill and two days later his mother was back at work. Life was extremely tough for the family in 1920's Blackburn — a treat was sheep's head or cow heel soup. Things got worse, his father lost his job when the cotton industry started its terminal decline.

We are used to complaining there is too much anger in the world. But what about the cost of having too little? And what if, instead of fearing anger, we learned to use it wisely? In Good Anger, journalist Sam Parker investigates how one of our most complex emotions became a taboo and the cost that suppressing it has on our mental and physical health, relationships and society. He argues that, rather than trip us up or fill us with shame, anger can be turned into a life-enhancing source of bravery, purpose and self-respect.

Far away in the land to which the swallows fly when it is winter, dwelt a king who had eleven sons, and one daughter, named Eliza. The eleven brothers were princes, and each went to school with a star on his breast, and a sword by his side.

Once upon a time, there was a proud and wicked prince who thought only about how he might conquer all the nations of the earth and make his name a terror to all mankind. He plunged forth with fire and sword; his soldiers trampled down the grain in the fields and put the torch to the peasant's cottage so that the red flames licked the very leaves from the trees, and the fruit hung roasted from black and charred limbs.

It was in the latter part of January, and a heavy snowfall was driving down. It whirled through the streets and the lanes, and the outsides of the windowpanes seemed plastered with snow. It fell down in masses from the roofs of the houses. A sudden panic seized the people. They ran, they flew, and they fell into each other's arms and felt that at least for that little moment they had a foothold. The coaches and horses seemed covered with sugar frosting, and the footmen stood with their backs to the carriages, to protect their faces from the wind.

Near the shores of the great Belt, which is one of the straits that connect the Cattegat with the Baltic, stands an old mansion with thick red walls. I know every stone of it," says the Wind. "I saw it when it was part of the castle of Marck Stig on the promontory.

On the hill there stood a windmill stately to look at and very proud of itself. "But I'm not proud at all," it said, "though I'm much enlightened, outside and inside. On the outside I have the sun and moon, and for inward use, too; and I also have wax candles, oil lamps, and tallow candles. Yes, I daresay I'm enlightened. I'm a thinking individual and so well built that I'm a pleasure to look at. I have a good windpipe in my chest, and I have four wings placed upon my head, just under my hat.

There was a man who once had known a great many new fairy tales, but he had forgotten them, he said. The fairy tale that used to come to visit him of its own accord no longer came and knocked at his door; and why didn't it come any more? It's true that for a year and a day the man hadn't thought of it, hadn't really expected it to come and knock; and it certainly wouldn't have come anyway, for outside there was war and, inside, the misery and sorrow that war brings with it.

Es war so schön draußen auf dem Land, es war Sommer – die Weizenfelder waren golden, der Hafer war grün, und unten zwischen den grünen Wiesen stand das Heu aufgestapelt. Dort schritt der Storch auf seinen roten Beinen umher und klapperte auf Ägyptisch, was die Sprache war, die seine Mutter ihn gelehrt hatte. Rund um die Felder und Wiesenländer erhoben sich riesige Wälder, in denen verborgene tiefe Seen lagen. Ja, es war in der Tat wunderschön dort draußen auf dem Land.

There was once a young man who studied to become a poet. He wanted to be a poet by next Easter, so that he could marry and earn his living from poetry, which he knew was just a matter of making things up. But he had no imagination. He firmly believed he had been born too late. Every subject had been used up before he had a chance at it, and there was nothing in the world left to write about.

The country around the town of Kjöge is very bare. The town itself lies by the seashore, which is always beautiful, although it might be more beautiful than it is, because all around are flat fields, and a forest a long way off. But one always finds something beautiful in the spot that is one's own home, something for which one longs, even when one is in the most wonderful spot in the world.

Lucy Maud Montgomery Short Stories, 1907 to 1908: This popular classic work by L. M. (Lucy Maud) Montgomery is unabridged. If you enjoy the works of L. M. (Lucy Maud) Montgomery then we highly recommend this audiobook.

The Island of Doctor Moreau is an 1896 science fiction novel by English author H. G. Wells (1866-1946). The text of the novel is the narration of Edward Prendick who is a shipwrecked man rescued by a passing boat. He is left on the island home of Doctor Moreau, a mad scientist who creates human-like hybrid beings from animals via vivisection. The novel deals with a number of philosophical themes, including pain and cruelty, moral responsibility, human identity, and human interference with nature. Wells described it as "an exercise in youthful blasphemy."

A couple of large ships were sent up toward the North Pole to discover the boundaries of land and sea and how far it would be possible for the human race to penetrate in that direction.

The well was deep, and therefore the rope was long; the wheel went around with difficulty when the waterfilled bucket had to be pulled up over the side of the well. The sun could never mirror itself down in the water, no matter how brightly it shone; but as far down as its rays penetrated, green weeds were growing from between the stones.

Poor John was greatly troubled, because his father was very ill and could not recover. Except for these two, there was no one in their small room. The lamp on the table had almost burned out, for it was quite late at night.

There is an old fairy tale: "The Thorny Road of Honor was trodden by a marksman named Bryde, to whom came great honor and dignity, but not until after manifold adversities and peril of life." More than one of us had heard that tale in childhood, and perhaps read it in later years, and thought of his own unsung "thorny road" and "manifold adversities." Romance and reality are very nearly alike, but romance has its harmonious ending here on earth, while reality more often delays it and leads us to time and eternity.