Humorous Adventure

The rains have halted, and all that’s left is mud. Mud...and the tracks of the Goblin Lord’s army. They have finally come to Liscor, pursued by Tyrion Veltras and his forces. In their path lies The Wandering Inn. Erin Solstice will have to find a way to survive the coming conflict, and save her friends. The question is: at what cost?

Kinch Na Shannack owes the Takers Guild a small fortune for his education as a thief, which includes (but is not limited to) lock-picking, knife-fighting, wall-scaling, fall-breaking, lie-weaving, trap-making, plus a few small magics. His debt has driven him to lie in wait by the old forest road, planning to rob the next traveler that crosses his path. But today, Kinch Na Shannack has picked the wrong mark.

Death has been fired by the Auditors of Reality for the heinous crime of developing…a personality. Sent to live like everyone else, Death takes a new name and begins working as a farmhand. He's got the scythe already, after all. And for humanity, Death is just…gone. Which leads to the kind of chaos you always get when an important public service is withdrawn. If Death doesn't come for you, then what are you supposed to do in the meantime? You can't have the undead wandering about like lost souls—there's no telling what might happen.

After a scourge of griefer attacks and a change in headmasters, Minecrafters Academy is once again at peace, and Lucy is working hard to keep up in all her classes. Meanwhile, the school is gearing up for an end-of-the-year talent show where everyone will showcase their greatest skills, from master building and clever potion making to strategic fighting. But when a hoard of skeletons and hostile mobs attacks the campus one night, an all-too-familiar struggle begins.

Try as he might, Fischer still can't catch a break. Tropica's forces have just perpetrated the fantasyland equivalent of crashing the king's party, kicking over the punch bowl, and making a series of rude gestures on their way out. Unfortunately, they're about to learn firsthand that when you take a bully down to the mat, it's best to make sure they don't get back up. Because their enemies are unearthing long-forgotten powers, and if those dabbling in the resulting destructive chi succeed, they could become even more annoying than the time Corporal Claws hid all of Fischer's pants.

Somewhere on the frontier between thought and reality exists the Discworld, a parallel time and place that might sound and smell very much like our own, but which looks completely different. Particularly as it’s carried though space on the back of a giant turtle (sex unknown). It plays by different rules. But then, some things are the same everywhere. The Disc’s very existence is about to be threatened by a strange new blight: the world’s first tourist, upon whose survival rests the peace and prosperity of the land.

Waking up thin is one thing. But waking up gaunt, hangry, and undead makes for a very bad day. Mallory's killer better hide, because she's just discovered blood, meat, and dairy don't agree with her, and a future with no cheese is grim indeed. She's out to find her killer...and maybe a vegan cheese that doesn't melt her nose hairs.

A human diplomat creates an interstellar incident when he kills an alien diplomat in a most unusual way. To avoid war, Earth's government must find an equally unusual object: A type of sheep ("The Android's Dream"), used in the alien race's coronation ceremony. To find the sheep, the government turns to Harry Creek, ex-cop, war hero and hacker extraordinaire.

'Look after the dead,' said the priests, 'and the dead will look after you.' Wise words in all probability, but a tall order when, like Teppic, you have just become the pharaoh of a small and penniless country rather earlier than expected, and your treasury is unlikely to stretch to the building of a monumental pyramid to honour your dead father. He'd had the best education money could buy of course, but unfortunately the syllabus at the Assassin's Guild in Ankh-Morpork did not cover running a kingdom and basic financial acumen....

With SPYDER defeated, Ben Ripley is looking forward to his life getting back to normal, or as normal as possible when you’re a superspy in training. Until someone bombs the CIA conference room next door. To Ben’s astonishment, the attacker is none other than Erica Hale, the spy-in-training he respects more than any other.

The BFG is no ordinary bone-crunching giant. He is far too nice and jumbly. It's lucky for Sophie that he is. Had she been carried off in the middle of the night by the Bloodbottler, or any of the other giants - rather than the BFG - she would have soon become breakfast. When Sophie hears that the giants are flush-bunking off to England to swollomp a few nice little chiddlers, she decides she must stop them once and for all. And the BFG is going to help her!

For a policeman, there can be few things worse than a serial killer loose in your city. Except, perhaps, a serial killer who targets coppers, and a city on the brink of bloody revolution. For Commander Sam Vimes, it all feels horribly familiar. Caught on the roof of a very magical building during a storm, he's found himself back in his own rough, tough past without even the clothes he was standing up in when the lightning struck. Living in the past is hard, especially when your time travel companion is a serial killer who knows where you live.

Popular children's author Katherine Applegate launches an entertaining new series featuring Roscoe Riley, a good-natured first grader whose own rules can't keep him out of mischief. In his first adventure, Roscoe shares a simple rule: Never glue your friends to chairs. But when he finds a bottle of Super-Mega-Gonzo glue in the junk drawer at home, he can't resist tossing it in his backpack and taking it to school.

Thanks to the evidence Ben uncovered in his investigation of the Croatoan, the CIA has tracked his nemesis, Murray Hill, to Central America, where they believe he is boarding the world’s biggest cruise ship, The Emperor of the Seas, on its maiden voyage around the world. His mission: Pose as part of a family, with Alexander and Catherine Hale as his parents, Erica as his sister, and his best friend Mike as his brother, to find out what Murray is plotting.

The usual result of a human taking a runaway semitruck head-on is a very sudden, very fast track to the pearly gates. But for one newly noncorporeal man, there's another option: become a dungeon. Feeling sorry for the desperate angel assigned to him, the man relents. Heck, if it doesn't work out, he can always chat with Saint Peter about it later. Next thing you know, he's a dungeon. Admittedly, a small run-down, somewhat unimpressive dungeon (more of a house, actually), but you gotta start somewhere, right?

This is not a fairy tale. This is about real witches. Grandmamma loves to tell about witches. Real witches are the most dangerous of all living creatures on Earth. There's nothing they hate so much as children, and they work all kinds of terrifying spells to get rid of them. Her grandson listens closely to Grandmamma's stories - but nothing can prepare him for the day he comes face-to-face with The Grand High Witch herself!

Here for the first time the stories and short novels of the war with the Outs are collected into a novel-length chronicle. The Outs had mental powers they could use to make humans see illusions and convince them to change sides. Obviously, they were unbeatable - until some troublesome humans found their Achilles' heel.

Accidentally murdered by a cleric in another universe during a botched resurrection, Arnold, a semi-pro gamer, wakes upon an altar to find himself incarnated into the overweight body of a farmer who could have been his fatter twin. He’s not the hero. He’s not the villain. He’s certainly not the chosen one who is there to save the world. He’s a clerical error. It could be a bad joke, but apparently, it happens so often that they have a standard procedure for returning you.

Well, this year, after the Spring Planting season, I’m really gonna relax and put down roots. It’s the slow life for me. Sure, the talking animals and cultivators coming to live with me are a bit weird, but this year everything is gonna be basically normal. There definitely won’t be any Heavenly Tribulations, ancient formations, or cultivator issues to deal with . . .

Religion is a competitive business in the Discworld. Everyone has their own opinion and their own gods, of every shape and size - all fighting for faith, followers, and a place at the top.