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Royalty is like dandelions. No matter how many heads you chop off, the roots are still there underground, waiting to spring up again.

A murderer is stalking Discworld: A prowling perp who leaves behind jaunty corpses and strange-smelling tracks of curious white clay -- a grim reaper who belongs to neither the Assassins' Guild nor the Thieves' Guild.

Commander Vimes of the Ankh-Morpork City Guard is determined to stop this unauthorized assassin -- and to prove it, he has hired a Dwarf to help him. With the assistance of, Corporal Cheery Littlebottom, Vimes and his men (and trolls, and such) can get to the, well, bottom of anything. Even when one of the victims is murdered with a loaf of her own Battle Bread (available in convenient throwing slices, guerrilla crumpets, and defensive bagels). And even when the investigation leads to an out-of-work golem, a vampire dragon, and a vegetarian werewolf.

Such strangeness is perfectly normal in normally perfect Ankh-Morpork, the greatest of Discworld's cities, where anything can happen and therefore, naturally, always does. But when Vimes unravels a living (and, in fact, complaining) Coat-of-Arms and finds an unexpected royal clue, he is faced with a new dilemma.

Fighting crime is one thing. But what if winning means inflicting a new King on a city that does very well, thank you, with no King at all?

Whoever created humanity left in a major design flaw. The tendency to bend at the knee...

ITS THE NIGHT BEFORE HOGSWATCH. AND IT'S TOO QUIET.

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 the gothic governess has got to sort it out by morning, otherwise there won't be a morning. Ever again...

The 20th Discworld novel is a festive feast of darkness and Death (but with jolly robins and tinsel too).

As they say: You'd better watch out...

A SHIVERING OF WORLDS

Deep in the Chalk, something is stirring. The owls and the foxes can sense it, and Tiffany Aching feels it in her boots. An old enemy is gathering strength.

This is a time of endings and beginnings, old friends and new, a blurring of edges and a shifting of power. Now Tiffany stands between the light and the dark, the good and the bad.

As the fairy horde prepares for invasion, Tiffany must summon all the witches to stand with her. To protect the land. Her land.

There will be a reckoning...

THE FINAL DISCWORLD NOVEL

For nearly three decades, Terry Pratchett has enthralled millions of fans worldwide with his irreverent, wonderfully funny satires set in the fabulously imaginative Discworld, a universe remarkably similar to our own. From sports to religion, politics to education, science to capitalism, and everything in between, Pratchett has skewered sacred cows with both laughter and wisdom, and exposed our warts, foibles, and eccentricities in a unique, entertaining, and ultimately serious way.

At long last, Lady Sybil has lured her husband, Sam Vimes, on a well-deserved holiday away from the crime and grime of Ankh-Morpork. But for the commander of the City Watch, a vacation in the country is anything but relaxing. The balls, the teas, the muck—not to mention all that fresh air and birdsong—are more than a bit taxing on a cynical city-born and -bred copper.

Yet a policeman will find a crime anywhere if he decides to look hard enough, and it’s not long before a body is discovered, and Sam—out of his jurisdiction, out of his element, and out of bacon sandwiches (thanks to his well-meaning wife)—must rely on his instincts, guile, and street smarts to see justice done. As he sets off on the chase, though, he must remember to watch where he steps. . . . This is the countryside, after all, and the streets most definitely are not paved with gold.

Be careful what you wish for...

Once upon a time there was a fairy godmother named Desiderata who had a good heart, a wise head, and poor planning skills--which unforunately left the Princess Emberella in the care of her other (not quite so good and wise) godmother when DEATH came for Desiderata. So now it's up to Magrat Garlick, Granny Weatherwax, and Nanny Ogg to hop on broomsticks and make for far-distant Genua to ensure the servant girl doesn't marry the Prince.

But the road to Genua is bumpy, and along the way the trio of witches encounters the occasional vampire, werewolf, and falling house (well this is a fairy tale, after all). The trouble really begins once these reluctant foster-godmothers arrive in Genua and must outwit their power-hungry counterpart who'll stop at nothing to achieve a proper "happy ending"--even if it means destroying a kingdom.

Two bewitching fantasies by J.R.R. Tolkien, beloved author of THE HOBBIT. In SMITH OF WOOTTON MAJOR, Tolkien explores the gift of fantasy, and what it means to the life and character of the man who receives it. And FARMER GILES OF HAM tells a delightfully ribald mock-heroic tale, where a dragon who invades a town refuses to fight, and a farmer is chosen to slay him.