Títulos em Humorístico

I haven't heard from my mother in six years—which is why I was surprised to receive a summons from her. The peremptory kind. With nothing but a set of map coordinates to guide me, what exactly was I to expect? The short answer? Trouble, for Mother Dearest is in rather a lot of it. And like daughter, like mother, for there’s a shiny artefact in the offing, and only a few gigantic lindworms in the way. Who isn’t up for a minor little challenge like that?

Cast away from the Society (sort of) and out on our own, we've got a big problem on our hands - and an exciting prospect, too. They call it time travel on TV. Is this the big, fat secret the Hidden Ministry's been keeping? What's the real truth behind that wandering tower? Answers must be found — in the face of severe opposition from the Ministry, from Ancestria Magicka, and from every Fae Court in existence. Simple. If only everything wouldn’t keep going wrong.

As an agent of the Society for Magickal Heritage, I, Cordelia Vesper, have an important job: rescue endangered creatures, artefacts, books and spells wherever they are to be found. It’s a tough job, but somebody’s got to keep British magick alive. So we rescued a valuable book from a long-lost library, only it proved to be unusually... chatty. And it's got a foul mouth, too. What manner of weird magick is this? Somebody else thinks it's pretty interesting, too. Ancestria Magicka, they call themselves. Brand new. Big trouble.

Fresh from an involuntary crash course in the Stranger Arts, I've a new mystery on my plate: the inexplicable reappearance of a particularly fantastic magickal species. Which is great, don't get me wrong. Rescuing magickal beasts is what we do around here. But the Dappledok Pup hasn't been seen since the seventeen hundreds; so how did we find one, alive and kicking, over two hundred years later? And this beast has a talent for sniffing out treasure, no less. Happenstance? Maybe not.

Dispatched overseas — far, far overseas — we're in hot water. Again. Following in the footsteps of a long-lost king, we're on the road to the mysterious Vales of Wonder. The upside? It's a hot-bed of magickal marvels, the likes of which we've literally never seen before. The downside? Danger. Because who ever said adventure would be easy? Fortunately, we have help. One reviled but aggravatingly handy beast specialist: check. One world-famous, awe-inspiring, purple-clad troll scholar: check. One perambulatory, half-mad house with a crush on Jay: check.

Stranded far from home, and unable to return, I am in bigger trouble than ever. I know I say that a lot, but this time it's really true. Not that there aren’t advantages to my particular predicament. If one must put up with a dangerous degree of magickal potency, one is duty-bound to… put it to use, no? Certainly nothing insane, irresponsible and potentially life-threatening. As if. But we'll need every possible advantage in the Hyndorin Mountains. For there, hidden behind layers of secrets, could be the answers we are looking for.

Rumour’s got a lot to say for itself, and the message is clear: the regulator’s ready. You know. The magickal regulator. The bright and shiny thing with which we, Team Improbable, propose to restore magick to a fading Britain. Somebody’s got to test it, and that somebody is us. Which means wading into the depths of a long-dead realm that nobody’s entered in centuries. And I may have had some practice at that, but this time it’s different. This time, somebody’s still home. And they really aren’t happy about trespassers. Looks like disaster’s on the agenda. Again.

Things have been quiet at the Society lately. Too quiet. It couldn’t possibly last. When a griffin appeared in the Yorkshire skies, it could only mean bad news. There’s only one place in Britain it could have come from and that’s the lost kingdom of Farringale. It’s a dire warning, and there’s worse to come. Turns out we aren’t the only people with an interest in the age-old city of the trolls. Farringale lies under attack—and these people will stop at nothing to take control of its treasures. It’s time for a showdown—the deathly serious kind.

Imagine modern Britain without magick. No fae enclaves. No flying chairs. No magick wands. Giddy gods, no unicorns. Who wants to live in that world? Me neither. But with magick on the decline, that's the world we're ending up with. Meet the Society for Magickal Heritage. Our boss is a disembodied voice. Our headquarters is a sentient house. You could say we've a vested interest in keeping magick alive. Can a ragtag bunch of magicians, necromancers and fae prevail against inevitable ruin and decline? Hell yes. Try and stop us.

Sibyl’s family are descended from the same bloodlines that provided the oracles in Greece. She’s even inherited the name to go with the talent. But she's just failed her prophecy exams. Worse than that, her dog has disappeared and none of her far-seeing family can find him. When her aunt prophecies that her dog has gone where he's needed most, Sibyl decides she's had enough of the seer lifestyle.

It's election time in Pigsend, and Pigsend's mayor Jo Hendry is up for re-election, but she's not the only candidate in the race. Pip Norris, the farrier, Wilda Murtagh, the cousin of the perfidious mayor from Middleburg, Gore Dewey, the blacksmith, and Hans Silver, a local farmer, have thrown their hats into the ring, too. And if Earl Dollman's polling is to be believed, it's going to be a tight race. But when every candidate except Hendry receives a letter threatening to expose their "secret," Bev's once again called to investigate.

John was a pretty easy going kind of a guy. Work from home desk job. Single dad to a precocious but overall tolerable daughter. Doing ok for himself in most ways by the standards of the old world. Then the System arrived. The everyday world he's known for decades has changed so he must change as well. He will need friends and allies to help keep himself and his daughter safe. He has to find ways to synergise his teleportation power with the abilities of the rest of his team as they fight off waves of monsters.

I’m in love with my best friend; one of the last dragon shifters in the world. Yeah, life has just gotten way more complicated. For two years I’ve gone on one bad date after another, and for two years my best friend Roarke has stood by my side. I don’t want to date other guys. I want to date Roarke. But there are two problems with this.

Was wäre, wenn es keine Bienen mehr geben würde? Möchte man sich gar nicht vorstellen. Selbst die Bienen nicht. Deshalb werden drei männliche Honigbienen, die nicht als Drohnen arbeiten dürfen, von ihrer Königin, Mama Api, in den Thronsaal zitiert. Halvar, Hogan und Herbert kommen einem Geheimnis der Bienenkönigin auf die Schliche, wogegen Mama Api vorgehen muss.

As a villain for hire I followed those rules, facing down heroes in scripted fights to make them look good for the press and brand deals. Sure, losing every time was a pain, but the money was good. Well, decent. And it kept real heroes off my back. Well, usually.

My name is Masie Kicklighter, and I work at my family’s local bar in the heart of Tennessee, slinging whiskey and living a quiet life. I can’t say my life was perfect, but when a local vampire started stalking me and sayin’ all sorts of crazy things (I was not his. Nor would I ever be.), my first instinct was to run. But Leiper’s Fork was my home.

The Tower of Moros has collapsed to the ground, and the citizens of Inexoria aren't exactly thrilled to meet the four adventurers responsible: two inhumanly powerful women and two seemingly adorable, actually terrifying cats. Anyway, Telos Metanoia, the shapeshifting daughter of Aetherius and Nyx (with a newly ominous third eye in her forehead), and Kallos Metanoia, nephilim daughter of Belial, formerly known as Aoibhe, aren't planning to stick around.

My stress levels skyrocketed after I discovered the deadly vampire who has taken over downtown is Considine Maledictus, one of the most powerful vampires alive. Now I’m even more reluctant to tangle with him, but he’s started showing up in the middle of my investigations, even if they’re outside his territory. I never know if he’s there to fight or to lend me some unexpected help. I don’t have time to ponder his weird behavior, because a group of local wizards are up to some shady practices.

One moment, Susan Moore had a perfect life—a handsome husband, a fabulous career, wonderful friends, and a gorgeous home in Pacific Heights, San Francisco. The next minute, it was all gone. And Susan found herself in a straitjacket, locked in a padded room.

Not too long ago, the cyborg NSLICE-00P—Non-Standard Leashed-Intelligence Cybernetic Enforcer—was an unstoppable machine of war. But when a fateful murder caused her to be launched into a whole new reality, she slowly began to realize that she could be something more . . . if she wanted.