When your mommy died. Your dad had it rough. He got himself right. Even though it was tough. So he set himself up with a dating profile. He shaved off his stubble. And polished his smile. It's been a long time since your dad went on dates. And he came home happy. Everything turned out great. But things seem strange with your dads new lady. He's taking her on lots of big shopping trips lately. She's not even affectionate with your dear old dad. Always too tired for sex and that's bad. And then something happened that seems kinda strange. He bought her a house. Just a few blocks away. His girlfriend won't touch him. She calls him a wimp. I'm sorry to tell you your daddy's a simp.

“Like the YouTube channel, this is a touching yet informative guide for those seeking fatherly advice, or even a few good dad jokes.” — Library Journal

Since dad went away your mommy has tried. Her drinking problem. From you, she hides. After work mom likes to tie on a few. One or two or more tasty brews. The babysitter is happy to cover mom's lies. For a few extra bucks, and supersized fries. Tonight though is different from any other night. Mom's car hit a pole but she's gonna be all right. Her license, however. Is now out of sight. From now on mommy can't drive you to school. A bus pass will now be your transportation tool. The transit system may seem scary at first. Don't worry. Tomorrow your cherry will burst. It's not that bad so please don't you cry. There are many things worse than moms DUI.

There once was a cat.... That always shat. He shat on this. He shat on that. He shat on your brothers baseball bat. He shat on a rat. He shat on a mat. He shat on the desk of a lazy bureaucrat. He shat on a hat. He shat on a gnat. He shat on a man while he screamed.... Bumbaclat!. Wherever he went he left behind shat. He often shat wherever you sat. He even Shat. On the tail of a cat. One time he shat. On a jar of pork fat. Use a toilet? No! Said the cat. I'm a lazy cat. Who likes to lay flat. Your job is simple. To clean up my shat.

City girl Calla Fletcher attempts to reconnect with her estranged father, and unwittingly finds herself torn between her desire to return to the bustle of Toronto and a budding relationship with a rugged Alaskan pilot in this masterful new romance from acclaimed author K.A. Tucker. Calla Fletcher was two when her mother took her and fled the Alaskan wild, unable to handle the isolation of the extreme, rural lifestyle, leaving behind Calla’s father, Wren Fletcher, in the process. Calla never looked back, and at twenty-six, a busy life in Toronto is all she knows. But when her father reaches out to inform her that his days are numbered, Calla knows that it’s time to make the long trip back to the remote frontier town where she was born. She braves the roaming wildlife, the odd daylight hours, the exorbitant prices, and even the occasional—dear God—outhouse, all for the chance to connect with her father: a man who, despite his many faults, she can’t help but care for. While she struggles to adjust to this new subarctic environment, Jonah—the quiet, brooding, and proud Alaskan pilot who keeps her father’s charter plane company operational—can’t imagine calling anywhere else home. And he’s clearly waiting with one hand on the throttle to fly this city girl back to where she belongs, convinced that she’s too pampered to handle the wild. Jonah is probably right, but Calla is determined to prove him wrong. As time passes, she unexpectedly finds herself forming a bond with the burly pilot. As his undercurrent of disapproval dwindles, it’s replaced by friendship—or perhaps something deeper? But Calla is not in Alaska to stay and Jonah will never leave. It would be foolish of her to kindle a romance, to take the same path her parents tried—and failed at—years ago. It’s a simple truth that turns out to be not so simple after all.

A family of his own covers Edwin O'Connor's comfortable upbringing in Rhode Island, his formation at Notre Dame, his obscure years in radio and the Coast Guard during World War II, his adoption of Boston, his long association with his publishers at "Atlantic Monthly" and Little, Brown and Company, his toil in journalism and television reviewing, his several sojourns in Ireland, and his extraordinary dedication to his craft while living close to poverty. For the years after "The Last Hurrah," Duffy examines O'Connor's handling of newfound wealth and celebrity, his growing loneliness, the surprise and fulfillment of a late marriage, his failure on Broadway, and his return to fiction. Throughout his writing O'Connor's major subject was the family, especially the gains, losses, and conflicts within assimilated Irish America. Duffy examines the complex ways by which O'Connor's own experience of family and friendship formed essential patterns in his works.

Sandy was killed in a tragic fire. Beth was poisoned with a pacifier. Tracey got into mom's psychedelic drugs. Gunther died of sepsis. Thanks to bed bugs. Jackson was left to die in an alley. A tornado is what killed baby Sally. Sean was killed in a massive car crash. Tony died of measles. They thought it was a rash. Sonia fell asleep on the tracks. A nuclear explosion is what killed Max. Jenny took too many of dads sleeping pills. Sammy was sold for his organs. To cover dad's bills Fiona was left to die in an abandoned house falling into the pool. That's what killed Klause.

From Sunday Times and #1 New York Times bestselling author of Things We Never Got Over Dominic: I got her fired. Okay, so I'd had a bad day, but there's nothing innocent about Ally Morales. Maybe her colourful, annoying, inexplicably alluring personality brightens up the magazine's offices that have felt like a prison for the past year. Maybe I like that she argues with me in front of the editorial staff. And maybe my after-hours fantasies are haunted by her brown eyes and sharp tongue. She's working herself to death at half a dozen dead-end jobs for some secret reason. And I'm going to fix it all. Don't accuse me of caring. She's nothing more than a puzzle to be solved. If I can get her to quit, I can finally peel away all those layers. Then I can go back to salvaging the family name and forget all about the dancing, beer-slinging brunette. Ally: Ha. Hold my beer, Grumpy Grump Face.

The Last Hurrah tells the story of Skeffington's final campaign as witnessed through the eyes of his nephew, who learns a great deal about politics as he follows his uncle to fundraisers, wakes, and into smoke-filled rooms, ultimately coming--almost against his will--to admire the man.