Geraint Anderson is a genuine phenomenon.

Ever since he wrote his bestselling memoir Cityboy, which followed Geraint as he embarked upon a wildly successful (and not at all fraudulent) investment banking career, publishers have been begging him to reveal how he climbed the corporate ladder with such ease. Did he achieve his remarkable brilliance through diligence and hard work?

No, he did so because he is a psychopath.

In this remarkable book, Geraint explains that the world is rapidly becoming such a brutal place that soon it will only be psychopaths who succeed – whether the aim is to become top dog in business, politics or, indeed, the clergy. Within these pages, you will quickly learn how to think like a stone-cold killer and, in so doing, become the very worst version of yourself.

This is the first book of its kind – a realistic manual that explains exactly how to be a winner in today’s dog-eat-dog capitalist world. You may not like a lot of what Geraint has to say, but that’s only because it’s radical, disturbingly honest and usually involves a surgical scalpel.

So, stop behaving like a limp-wristed fruit picker and, instead, buy this book. Become what you were always destined to be: a warrior, a winner… a psychopath!

You know when you’re in a Football City.

The murals, the billboards, the graffiti, the colours on the bars and pubs. No two football cities are the same. That cross on the club badge, commemorating a 1st century fisherman martyr (Ajax). The ‘cemetery’ of graves dedicated to the club’s league rivals (Napoli). The guttural roar of fans chanting “Aupa Athletic, aupa Euskal Herria!” – a fierce declaration of Basque pride and identity, echoing through San Mamés like a battle cry (Bilbao).

In a world of increasing corporate and homogenous sport, football cities preserve culture and exhibit the particular and the unique with glorious passion. Fandom in a football city is for everyone: for boys and girls, for elderly men and the infirm; for the fashionable, the outcasts and the hopeless: it gives their days meaning and clarity – it can unite divided cities and divide the otherwise united.

This is Our Game is a celebration of these unique fan cultures. Part travel, part social history, giving voice to distinctive local experiences, revealing the atmospheres, attitudes, fables, fashions, tensions and triumphs of twenty-two unique places and communities across all continents. It was the Russian composer (and FC Zenit fan) Dmitri Shostakovich who said: “Football is the ballet of the masses.” This book takes us inside the dance.

This ancient flower is one of the most popular plants cultivated today, and has amassed a wealth of symbolism throughout its history.

However, they are famously fussy. Everybody has a different tip, trick or close-guarded secret for keeping orchids alive you’ve probably heard of using icecubes as watering technique, or sunning the roots for example. With so much debate this beloved species, it can be hard to separate fact from fiction.

We’re here to cut through the noise and give you exactly what you need to keep your plant happy, healthy and continually blooming. All you need is the patience of an orchid

This is how to keep an orchid alive.

The history of Britain, perhaps more so than any other country, is defined by its drinking culture. Built on a foundation of pubs, clubs and watering holes, the UK has remained in the global top five for alcoholic intake per capita since 1700. It doesn’t matter how it comes nip, schooner, pint or yard we will always gladly have another.

But of such a vast and varied drinks menu, which are Britain’s favourites? Which have stood the test of time? And what do they say about our wider culture?

Steven Parissien’s Another Round? uncorks contemporary Britain’s relationship with booze in twelve very different drinks. From the 1950’s classic Babysham, to the house party favourite WKD, these flagship brands reflected and redefined British culture and politics.

For better or worse, the story of postwar Britain can be found at the bottom of every glass.

And now, the Shipping Forecast issued by the Met Office

Often described as a litany, mantra or lullaby, the Shipping Forecast has long been a favourite of cosy homes on chilly evenings. Its practical use as a precise reading of the marine weather around the British Isles has been largely forgotten by its recreational listeners, who instead value its gentle rhythm and curious wording as a comfort, a charm, or fail-safe formula for inducing sleep.

Its thirty-one areas, cast like a safety net, take us on a virtual voyage that starts between the Shetlands and Norway, zig-zags down the North Sea, scoots westwards along the English Channel, sailing by the coast of France, Spain and Portugal, via both sides of Ireland up to the west coast of Scotland and as far as the nearest shard of Iceland. Forties, Dogger, German Bight, Humber, Thames, Dover, Wight These words speak to us like a spell, nonsensical in their substance, but enchanting in their delivery.

Since its first BBC broadcast in 1925, the Shipping Forecast has captured the nation’s heart. Good, Occasionally Rhyming is a love letter in poetry and prose, from Britain’s literary landscape to this iconic radio broadcast.

That’s the end of this shipping bulletin.