It has never been shown that human emissions of the gas of life drive global warming. Large bodies of science that don't fit the narrative have been ignored by IPCC, COP and self-interested scientists paid by taxpayers. A huge subsidised industry of intermittent unreliable wind and solar electricity has been created based on unsubstantiated science. The same hucksters now want subsidised hydrogen, costly inefficient EVs, subsidised mega-batteries and other horribly expensive tried and failed schemes to impoverish people, create unemployment, transfer wealth and enrich China. Germany, Texas, California and the UK had a glimpse of Net Zero with blackouts, astronomically high electricity costs and hundreds of deaths. We once had reliable cheap electricity and now that governments have gone green, we are heading for hard economic times. In this book I charge the greens with murder. They murder humans who are kept in eternal poverty without coal-fired electricity. They support slavery and early deaths of black child miners. They murder forests and their wildlife by clear felling for mining and wind turbines. They murder forests and wildlife with their bushfire policies. They murder economies producing unemployment, hopelessness, collapse of communities, disrupted social cohesion and suicide. They murder free speech and freedoms and their takeover of the education system has ended up in the murdering of the intellectual and economic future of young people. They terrify children into mental illness with their apocalyptic death cult lies and exaggerations. They try to divide a nation. They are hypocrites and such angry ignorant people should never touch other people's money. The greens are guilty of murder. The sentence is life with no parole in a cave in the bush enjoying the benefits of Net Zero.

"Anyone who hasn't discovered Phryne Fisher by now should start making up for lost time." —Booklist Phryne Fisher is doing one of her favorite things—dancing to the music of Tintagel Stone's Jazzmakers at the Green Mill, Melbourne's premier dance hall. And she's wearing a sparkling lobelia-colored georgette dress. Nothing can flap the unflappable Phryne—especially on a dance floor with so many delectable partners. Nothing but death, that is. The dance competition is trailing into its last hours when suddenly a figure slumps to the ground. Phryne, conscious of how narrowly the weapon missed her own bare shoulder, back, and dress, investigates. Phryne follows the deadly trail into the dark smoky jazz clubs of Fitzroy, into the arms of eloquent strangers, and finally into the sky, as she uncovers a complicated family tragedy from the Great War and the damaged men who came back from ANZAC cove.

It was the biggest funeral Chicago had seen since Lincoln’s. On May 26, 1889, four thousand mourners proceeded down Michigan Avenue, followed by a crowd forty thousand strong, in a howl of protest at what commentators called one of the ghastliest and most curious crimes in civilized history. The dead man, Dr. P. H. Cronin, was a respected Irish physician, but his brutal murder uncovered a web of intrigue, secrecy, and corruption that stretched across the United States and far beyond. Blood Runs Green tells the story of Cronin’s murder from the police investigation to the trial. It is a story of hotheaded journalists in pursuit of sensational crimes, of a bungling police force riddled with informers and spies, and of a secret revolutionary society determined to free Ireland but succeeding only in tearing itself apart. It is also the story of a booming immigrant population clamoring for power at a time of unprecedented change. From backrooms to courtrooms, historian Gillian O’Brien deftly navigates the complexities of Irish Chicago, bringing to life a rich cast of characters and tracing the spectacular rise and fall of the secret Irish American society Clan na Gael. She draws on real-life accounts and sources from the United States, Ireland, and Britain to cast new light on Clan na Gael and reveal how Irish republicanism swept across the United States. Destined to be a true crime classic, Blood Runs Green is an enthralling tale of a murder that captivated the world and reverberated through society long after the coffin closed.

A mad director, off his meds, is making a movie about how he murders the producers who ruined his career. The movie is in his mind. The murders are real. Tommy Veasy, a pot-smoking homicide detective--our hero--who writes poetry to help him solve cases and ward off despair, thinks he sees a pattern in these seemingly accidental deaths. His colleagues think he's being dramatic. But the bodies keep piling up. The staff of a syndicated TV show in its tenth year, formerly an international hit but now only being aired in Montenegro and Botswana, worries about how they will maintain their Hollywood lifestyles when they become unemployable. How will the producer finance his two-hooker-a-weekend habit? How will the staff writer pay private school tuition, an underwater mortgage, tennis club dues, the housekeeper, the gardener, cable TV bills, the couples' therapist, et al.? Not a big problem: the mad director has planted a bomb in the office phone and is frantically trying to set it off. And meanwhile, a home invader keeps invading the wrong homes, to everyone's perplexity. In other words: it's just another day in paradise.

The gloomy Greene mansion in New York is the scene of a double tragedy. The eldest sister is shot and killed; the youngest, a sister by adoption, is wounded by an unknown intruder. While Philo Vance and his friend Markham the district attorney are working on the case, the two Greene brothers are killed.

When Sandie witnesses her client committing a cut-and-dried murder, her head tells her to walk away. Her heart tells her she can’t. Keeping away from the mob is Sandie’s first rule of survival… until the day someone comes to call, and changes everything. It is 1920’s Chicago. What came to be known as the ‘roaring twenties’. For private investigator Sandie Shaw, ‘roaring’ was hardly the flattering kind of way she would ever describe it. Born and raised in the city, she despises everything it has become. In her view, Chicago typifies the false decadence gripping America. Still recovering from the lawlessness of the Wild West, her city and the rest of the country then entered the world war for a brief time, and when that was over, the whole nation seemed to lose all sense of reason. People went crazy. Prohibition raised its ugly head, and the mobsters and the flappers took over Chicago. Her beloved city had fallen at the mercy of those who believed they were above the law… once again. Now fifty-three, for a long time Sandie has had to be strong willed to stay in one piece. Being gutsy and taking no nonsense helps to maintain a sense of right and wrong, and to retain her very individual identity. Taking over the one-man agency when her father died, and making it a one-woman business, she knew from the off that in a male-dominated environment she would have to be tough, and witty, to succeed. And that keeping well away from anyone with a machine gun was a big part of staying alive. For eight years she has avoided anything mob-related. Then one day someone comes to call, and without Sandie even realizing what she’s getting into, suddenly she’s up to her chin in murky waters. And that changes everything… ‘Murder at the Green Mill’ is the inaugural book of the Sandie Shaw historical murder mystery series. All the RTG-brand features readers have come to love are here… high drama, heartfelt emotion, fast-paced action, witty humour, and of course, heaped spoonfuls of the unexpected. Read about The Sandie Shaw Mysteries on the new rtgreen website… and do check out everything else we create too! Enjoy!

Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries, now streaming on Netflix, starring Essie Davis as the honourable Phryne Fisher "Anyone who hasn't discovered Phryne Fisher by now should start making up for lost time." —Booklist Phryne Fisher is doing one of her favorite things—dancing to the music of Tintagel Stone's Jazzmakers at the Green Mill, Melbourne's premier dance hall. And she's wearing a sparkling lobelia-colored georgette dress. Nothing can flap the unflappable Phryne—especially on a dance floor with so many delectable partners. Nothing but death, that is. The dance competition is trailing into its last hours when suddenly a figure slumps to the ground. Phryne, conscious of how narrowly the weapon missed her own bare shoulder, back, and dress, investigates. Phryne follows the deadly trail into the dark smoky jazz clubs of Fitzroy, into the arms of eloquent strangers, and finally into the sky, as she uncovers a complicated family tragedy from the Great War and the damaged men who came back from ANZAC cove.