On a world supported on the back of a giant turtle (sex unknown), a gleeful, explosive, wickedly eccentric expedition sets out. There's an avaricious buy inept wizard, a naive tourist whose luggage moves on hundreds of dear little legs, dragons who only exist if you believe in them, and of course the edge of the planet.

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. Unfortunately for his colleagues in the chauvinistic (not to say misogynistic) world of magic, he failed to check on the new-born baby's sex.

Death comes to us all. When he came to Mort, he offered him a job. After being assured that being dead was not compulsory, Mort accepted. However, he soon found that romantic longings did not mix easily with the responsibilities of being Death's apprentice.

Another Discworld novel. In this episode, the Discword is moving inexorably towards a collision with a malevolent redstar. There is only one man who can save the planet, the strange and hapless wizard Rincewind, last seen falling off the edge of the world.

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. This is the eighth Discworld novel.

It's the night before hogswatch. And its 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.

The sixth Discworld novel. The witches of Discworld, not the most joyful bunch, decide that they must get involved in the politics of the planet. Granny Weatherwax, their obvious choice as spokesperson, finds that life in royal politics is not as simple as it seems.

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. It's a tough decision. But he's got to see that the mail gets through, come rain, hail, sleet, dogs, the Post Office Workers' Friendly and Benevolent Society.

For Brutha the novice is the Chosen One. He wants peace and justice and brotherly love. He also wants the Inquisition to stop torturing him.

Death is missing - presumed... er... gone - which leads to the kind of chaos you always get when an important public service is withdrawn. Meanwhile, on a little farm far, far away, a tall dark stranger is turning out to be really good with a scythe. There's a harvest to be gathered in...

Commander Sam Vimes of the Ankh-Morpork City Watch had it all. But now he's back in his own rough, tough past without even the clothes he was standing up in when the lightning struck.

Being trained by the Assassin's Guild in Ankh-Morpork did not fit Teppic for the task assigned to him by fate. He inherited the throne of the desert kingdom of Djelibeybi rather earlier than he expected (his father wasn't too happy about it either), but that was only the beginning of his problems.

Sam Vimes is a man on the run. Yesterday he was a duke, a chief of police and the ambassador to the mysterious, fat-rich country of Uberwald. Now, he has nothing but his native wit and the gloomy trousers of Uncle Vanya (don't ask). It's snowing. And if he can't make it through the forest to civilization there's going to be a terrible war.

There was an eighth son of an eighth son. He was, quite naturally, a wizard. And there it should have ended. However (for reasons we'd better not go into), he had seven sons. And then he had an eighth son - a wizard squared, a source of magic, a Sourcerer.

Features Corporal Carrot (technically a dwarf), Lance-constable Cuddy (really a dwarf), Lance constable Detritus (a troll), Lance constable Angua (a woman... most of the time) and Corporal Nobbs (disqualified from the human race for shoving), who've only got twenty-four hours to clean up the town, Ankh-Morpork.

It's hard to grow up normally when Grandfather rides a white horse and wields a scythe - especially when you have to take over the family business, and everyone mistakes you for the Tooth Fairy. And especially when you have to face the new and addictive music that has entered Discworld.

There's a werewolf with the pre-lunar tension in Ankh-Morpork. And a dwarf with attitude and a golem who's begun to think for itself. But for Commander Vimes, Head of Ankh-Morpork City Watch, that's only the start. There's treason in the air. A crime has happened. He's not only got to find out whodunit, but howdunit too.

Discworld goes to war, with armies of sardines, warriors, fishermen, squid and at least one very camp follower. As two armies march, Commander Vimes of Ankh-Morpork City Watch faces unpleasant foes who are out to get him and that's just the people on his side. The enemy might be even worse.

Features a cast of dwarfs, wizards, trolls, Morris dancers and one orang-utan.

William de Worde is the editor of the Discworld's first newspaper. Now he must cope with the traditional perils of a journalist's life - suicidal vampires, obssesional readers and people who want him dead. William just wants to get at the truth . Unfortunately, everyone else wants to get at him.