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The first Discworld novel, revamped for a new generation of readers.

Somewhere on the frontier between thought and reality exists the Discworld, a parallel time and place which might sound and smell very much like our own, but which looks completely different. It plays by different rules. Certainly it refuses to succumb to the quaint notion that universes are ruled by pure logic and the harmony of numbers.

But just because the Disc is different doesn't mean that some things don't stay the same. Its very existence is about to be threatened by a strange new blight: the...

Terry Pratchett puts his stamp on the thirty-third Discworld novel.

The post was an old thing, of course, but it was so old that it had magically become new again.

The post office is an ailing institution belonging to the olden days. New technology overshadows its mind-numbing bureaucracy and the creakingly slow pace of change. You can call them nostalgic, but there are still people who believe in the post: in the beauty of stamps and cast-iron pillar boxes, and the dignity of the postman braving hail, wind and troublesome dogs. And sometimes it's worth standing up...

A new stage adaptation of one of Pratchett's best-selling novels

There's been a murder. Allegedly. William de Worde is the Discworld's first investigative journalist. He didn't mean to be - it was just an accident. But, as William fills his pages with reports of local club meetings and pictures of humorously shaped vegetables, dark forces high up in Ankh-Morpork's society are plotting to overthrow the city's ruler, Lord Vetinari.

Although the scythe isn't pre-eminent among the weapons of war, anyone who has been on the wrong end of, say, a peasants' revolt will know that in skilled hands it is fearsome.

For Mort however, it is about to become one of the tools of his trade. From henceforth, Death is no longer going to be the end, merely the means to an end. He has received an offer he 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 the dream job until he discovers that it can be a killer on his love life.

Football is supposed to be a gentleman's game, played on venerable university lawns for honour, polite applause and a hearty match tea afterwards. Unfortunately for the gentlemen, the rest of the world doesn't see it that way. Football has moved on, to the streets, and now it inhabits a world of pies, chants and jumpers for goalposts. This is a world where a talent for keeping tin cans in the air could make you a local celebrity, and where...