There's Young Agnes, who is really in two minds about everything. Magrat, who is trying to combine witchcraft and nappies, Nanny Ogg…and Granny Weatherwax, who is big trouble.
Vampires have come to Lancre, but they're not what you'd expect. Sure, they drink blood and view humans as dinner, but they're modern and sophisticated. They've got style and fancy waistcoats. And they're not a bit afraid of garlic.
THE SEWER IS DODGER’S WORLD . . .He hunts treasure there – coins and jewels lost in the dark and dirty drains. It’s a good life, if you don’t mind getting your hands (and arms and feet and face) dirty.
The last thing the wizard Drum Billet did, before Death laid a bony hand on his shoulder, was to pass on his staff of power to the eighth son of an eighth son.
Eric is the Discworld's only demonology hacker. The trouble is, he's not very good at it. All he wants is the usual three wishes: to be immortal, rule the world and have the most beautiful woman fall madly in love with him. The usual stuff.
Eric is the Discworld's only demonology hacker.The trouble is, he's not very good at it. All he wants is the usual three wishes: to be immortal, rule the world and have the most beautiful woman fall madly in love with him. The usual stuff.
A collection of wonderful Christmas stories from the fantastically funny Terry Pratchett. With incredible illustrations from Mark Beech, it's the perfect stocking filler!
There's a werewolf with pre-lunar tension in ankh-morpork. And a dwarf with attitude anda golem who's begun to think for itself. But for Commander Vimes, Head of Ankh-Morpork City Watch, that's only the start...
Sorry!' said Carrot. If it's just a thing, how can it commit murder? A sword is a thing' - he drew his own sword; it made an almost silken sound - 'and of course you can't blame a sword if someone thrust it at you, sir.'
Moist von Lipwig is a con artist and a fraud and a man faced with a life choice: be hanged, or put Ankh-Morpork's ailing postal service back on its feet.
This is where the dragons went. They lie…not dead, not asleep, but…dormant. And although the space they occupy isn't like normal space, nevertheless they are packed in tightly.
Vimes ran a practised eye over the assortment before him. It was the usual Ankh-Morpork mob in times of crisis; half of them were here to complain, a quarter of them were here to watch the other half, and the remainder were here to rob...
Where is the big jolly fat man? Why is Death creeping down chimneys and trying to say Ho Ho Ho? The darkest night of the year is getting a lot darker...
Susan had never hung up a stocking . She'd never put a tooth under her pillow in the serious expectation that a dentally inclined fairy would turn up. It wasn't that her parents didn't believe in such things. They didn't need to believe in them.