Showing titles in Humorous

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.

An exclusive collection of twenty early short stories by one of the world's best loved authors, these are rediscovered tales that Pratchett wrote under a pseudonym for newspapers during the 1970s and 1980s. Whilst none of the stories are set in the Discworld, they hint towards the world he would go on to create in his award-winning and globally bestselling series, containing all of his trademark wit, satirical wisdom and fantastic imagination. These are tales which entertain, enlighten and, most importantly, make you laugh.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a policeman taking a holiday would barely have had time to open his suitcase before he finds his first corpse. Commander Sam Vimes of the Ankh-Morpork City Watch is on holiday in the pleasant and innocent countryside, but not for him a mere body in the wardrobe. There are many, many bodies - and an ancient crime more terrible than murder. He is out of his jurisdiction, out of his depth, out of bacon sandwiches; and out of his mind. But never out of guile. Where there is a crime there must be a punishment.

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.

A [Mage] team from Wistram Academy is dogging Pisces, Ceria, Ksmvr, and Yvlon's steps, with revenge in mind. However, adventurers must work, and the Horns have been called on as security for an ambitious project: building a road past the Bloodfields towards the rest of southern Izril. There is more to the world than just Liscor, however. Players of Celum are coming to Invrisil with a splash. There are [Knights] from Terandria roaming around Izril after their battle with the Witch of Webs, and they have heard tell of a mysterious slayer of Goblins.

Gifted with meta-human powers, Tori Rivas kept away from the limelight, preferring to work as a thief in the shadows. But when she's captured trying to rob a vault that belongs to a secret guild of villains, she's offered a hard choice: prove she has what it takes to join them or be eliminated. Apprenticed to one of the world's most powerful (and supposedly dead) villains, she is thrust into a strange world where the lines that divide superheroes and criminals are more complex than they seem.

Koom Valley, the ancient battle where the trolls ambushed the dwarfs, or the dwarfs ambushed the trolls, was a long time ago. But if he doesn't solve the murder of just one dwarf, Commander Sam Vimes of Ankh-Morpork City Watch is going to see it fought again, right outside his office. With his beloved Watch crumbling around him and war-drums sounding, he must unravel every clue, outwit every assassin and brave any darkness to find the solution. And darkness is following him.

For Commander Vimes, Head of Ankh-Morpork City Watch, life consists of troubling times, linked together by...well, more troubling times. Right now, it's the latter. There's a werewolf with pre-lunar tension in the city and a dwarf with attitude and a golem who's begun to think for itself, but that's just ordinary trouble. The real problem is more puzzling - people are being murdered, but there's no trace of anything alive having been at the crime scene.

William de Worde is the accidental editor of the Discworld's first newspaper. Now he must cope with the traditional perils of a journalist's life - people who want him dead, a recovering vampire with a suicidal fascination for flash photography, some more people who want him dead in a different way and, worst of all, the man who keeps begging him to publish pictures of his humorously shaped potatoes.

Three witches gathered on a lonely heath. A king cruelly murdered, his throne usurped by his ambitious cousin. A child heir and the royal crown, both missing.

A part of me wants to run away again. The memory of my death still haunts my dreams. But this is my home now. And I'll be damned if I give it up without a fight. I mean, all I have to do is learn how to navigate xianxia politics and train for battle while simultaneously running my farm and uncovering an ancient cataclysm that apparently destroyed the Azure Hills back in the day. Meanwhile, I'm about to be a father . . . Man, I'm kinda screwed, aren't I? At least I can call in the cavalry—ahem, poultry—to help.

Two necromancers, a dwarf kingdom, and a sky city - it sounds like a prelude to mayhem, and given Timmy’s luck, that’s exactly what’s going to happen. To keep his castle and earn his pardon, Timmy has his work cut out for him. Whether it’s rescuing princesses, crushing hordes of goblins, or dealing with eldritch abominations, Timmy and the gang are there to save the day - and rob the occasional crime lord. But saving the day isn’t always easy.

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.

Of course, if there were only one thing under Liscor, there would be far less to fear. However, the dungeon continues to be a threat. At the same time, Goblins continue to roam northern Izril, but not all of them are as hostile to people as Tremborag or the Goblin Lord. Will the Unseen Emperor of Riverfarm make that distinction, however? A reckoning is coming as old faces and new reemerge. And all the while, The Wandering Inn is still serving food and respite and even plays to adventurers and Antinium alike. But something is coming from the dungeons. And it—they—are hungry.

It's raining in Liscor. The spring rains have come and Liscor's entire geography changes with the dawning of the new year. The Floodplains of Liscor live up to their name, and the only way anyone is going to travel is by boat. With the rains come more monsters, dungeon delving, more goblins...not to mention some unwanted attention for the Wandering Inn.

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?

Erin Solstice trusts a lot of people—even some lost Redfangs survivors of Esthelm—but can she handle being friends with Goblins when every hand is turned against them and the tribes are on the rampage? Liscor is in the path of Goblin Lord's inexorable march north, and the fates of Rags, Garen Redfang, and Tremborag's Goblin tribes are all tied to an impending war. Who will survive?

Moist von Lipwig is a con artist and a fraud and a man faced with a life choice: be hanged, or put the ailing postal service of Ankh-Morpork back on its feet. It's a tough decision. The post is a creaking old institution, overshadowed by new technology. But there are people who still believe in it and Moist must become one of them if he's going to see that the mail gets through, come rain, hail, sleet, dogs, the Post Office Workers Friendly and Benevolent Society, an evil chairman...and a midnight killer. Getting a date with Adora Bell Dearheart would be nice, too.

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.

Death comes to us all. When he came to Mort, he offered him a job. Death is the Grim Reaper of the Discworld, a black-robed skeleton with a scythe who ushers souls into the next world. He is also fond of cats and endlessly baffled by humanity. Soon Death is yearning to experience what humanity really has to offer, but to do that, he'll need to hire some help. It's an offer Mort can't refuse. As Death's apprentice he'll have free board, use of the company horse—and being dead isn't compulsory. It's a dream job—until Mort falls in love with Death's daughter, Ysabell.