The Floor of Heaven by Howard Blum -- Crown Publishers, April 2011) During the 1880s and 1890s, the California Gold Rush was nothing more than a fleeting memory. Scars from The Civil War still lingered to make people genuinely uncivil. The economy was coming off of a rocky recession. And people were basically bored. It made no sense to stick around, wherever you were. Silver was being chipped out of Colorado quartz -- turning scrubby towns of The Old West into rollicking "places to be". Here, boozing, gambling and whoring pretty much summarized life's idle hours for hordes of unshaven folks who were allergic to bathing. Then all hell broke loose. Nuggets of gold the size of eyeballs were being picked out of ice cold streams in The Klondike. The Where? Up North! The Yukon! Where nobody but a few nutty Indians were. Where it was colder than a witches mitt. And where everybody with an itch stampeded off to strike it rich. So goes The Floor of Heaven. Howard Blum spins a Yukon-laden yarn based on true accounts of three outrageous characters -- "Soapy" Smith, George Carmack and Charlie Siringo. Each one is real and more interesting than the others. And boy, do they ooze tales to tell. "Soapy" is a world class con man. George is basically the man who ignites the Yukon Gold Rush. And Charlie -- an ex-cow puncher turned Pinkerton detective -- tries to make everything right. Before you know it, you're wrapped up into their amazing world -- as they stake claims, bamboozle innocents and haul gold from the wilds of Alaska. This is The Wild, Wild West. You're up to your boot-tops in mud. And you better get out before the snow flies. The author seems to have great fun painting pictures of these three unforgettable men and the people who surround them. Greed has a way to make people crazy. And when you stir it into a pot filled with images of wagons wending their way through colorfully carved out canyons in The Old American West -- and pans glittering with flakes of gold from a creek named "Bonanza", watch out! You're hooked.

George, Nicholas and Wilhelm, by Miranda Carter -- Alfred A. Knopf, March 2010) For centuries European royalty has ensured friendly relations with its neighbors by arranging marriages between sons and daughters.  Princes and countesses were sprinkled back and forth across borders to gain favors, bolster treasuries and simply solidify allegiances.  Queen Victoria was particularly effective on this front... so much so that, careening into the 20th Century, three grand children stood as the Tsar of Russia, Kaiser of Germany and King of England. What a group.  If any of you feel like your family is overly laced with dysfunctional relatives, you ain't seen nothin'.  Thanks to Miranda Carter, author of The Three Emperors, readers get to sneak in and out of courts and castles vicariously witnessing mountains of monarchical madness.  Each of these three spoiled little royals earns title to gold medals for being royally incapable of ruling nations and embracing the rapidly changing world around him.  Sadly, George, Willy and Nicky delivered verbal hugs to each other while crossing their fingers firmly behind their backs.  Each was consumed by pinning new ribbons on their uniforms and running around whacking Africans and Asians over the head, adding them to their territorial control. Peoples' rights were trampled.  Pettiness ruled.  Trust was nowhere.  National pride trumped honorable dialogue across borders.  The Kaiser the Tsar and the King each became detached in his own way and over time lost control of their empires.  The world drifted blindly toward a world war.  All it took was a mindless assassination and trigger-happy hawks on all sides overran peaceful intentions.  All three leaders wanted peace, but were unable to turn the tide of peoples itching for expressions of national pride. Even if you're not a history buff, you'll find this book an absolutely fascinating account of how European royalty lived in the latter half of the 1800's and first part of the 1900's.  You'll see how a powerful family of multi-national rulers coexisted and communicated with each other.  Foibles.  Weaknesses.  Incredible blunders and blind spots.  You might feel like you're reading a mystery novel -- except the words and deeds here are real.  And there impact cascaded down on all of us. I'll make a bet with you.  You'll have trouble putting this book down. Bob Wells

A Full Cup of Tea -- Sir Thomas Lipton's Extraordinary Life and His Quest for The America's Cup(by Michael D'Antonio -- Riverhead Books, July 2010) If you were clattering down the cobblestones of Clydeside, Scotland in the 1850's, you might have bumped into a scrawny teenager wheeling a barrow from docks laden with basic foods from local farms.  Tommy Lipton was a grocer's son, eking out a living close to the margins of destitution.  His father was a master of the word "no"... while his mother was an open door to possibility.  And in the decades ahead, Thomas Lipton built a fabulous food enterprise based on innovation, perseverance and passion. From his humble beginnings, Lipton never forgot where he came from -- and treated the poor like royalty.  Unfortunately, in a stuffy/snobby old world across the pond, the powdered wig set treated him like a vermin.  Never more was this as apparent as his constant and shameless "black balling" from the Royal Yacht Squadron -- even though Lipton assembled five spirited challenges to the greatest yacht trophy in the world, The America's Cup.  Lipton redefined sportsmanship, and for this, he was revered by millions of Americans.  He was part P.T. Barnum.  Part Bill Gates.  Part Will Rogers.  But alas, because he grew out of a humble "tea bag" (which he invented, by the bye), stuff shirts like Teddy Roosevelt went out of their way to avoid him.  (And we all thought Teddy was a tolerant fellow...) Lipton's yachts were marvels.  All Shamrocks -- the last of which is still sailing off Newport today!  The only problem for Lipton was a wizard in Bristol, Nathanael Herreshoff, who had a habit of designing speed-demons on water.  Each time he tried, Lipton lost.  For decades, he lost.  And as each challenge was mounted, even Americans crossed over to root for him... so much so that after his final loss, money poured in from everywhere to have Tiffany create a surrogate cup he could steam back home with.  Sir Tea was bigger than life.  An icon of good.  Never married  -- with no children.  Yet he left the world as his family, and an indelible image that continues to live on.  And thanks to Michael D'Antonio, we will know him more than through a teeny tea bag. Beyond skipping through waves, this book is packed with tasty little morsels.  Who knew that R.H. Macy's red star logo was copied from a tattoo Macy received while working on a whaling ship?  Then there's a tale of an adventurous Scotsman named Robert Fortune (amazingly...) who bucked the Chinese penchant for beheading anyone who swiped tea seeds and planted them firmly in British Empire plantations in Ceylon and India.  Bad boy!   So, all you history buffs, pull on your boots and take a ride through the transformation of "retail", the development of sound over wires, the blaring of "ooh-gah" horns startling horses and flimsy flying machines flopping in fields.  A Full Cup is great summer reading. Bob Wells