Showing results for "Diana" in Humorous

Sidelined demon summoner Kara Gillian has her hands full when dimensional rifts allow demons to cause widespread panic and destruction on Earth. These aren't the human-tolerant summonables she's known before, but demons from the far reaches of the demon realm. Add three demonic lords with conflicting ambitions to the mix, and Kara has the perfect recipe for global disaster.

Seit sie die Tür zur scheinbar winzigen Hütte ihres Onkels geöffnet hat, stolpert Charmain von einer Katastrophe in die nächste. Ein extrem magischer streunender Hund, ein verwirrter Zauberlehrling und ein erboster Clan von kleinen blauen Kreaturen sind ihre geringsten Probleme, als der König eine wahrhaft furchterregende Zauberin zu Hilfe ruft, um einen sagenumwobenen Schatz zu finden: Denn wo die mächtige Sophie auftaucht, sind der Zauberer Howl und der Feuerdämon Calcifer nicht weit, das weiß jeder.

Angel Crawford is finally starting to get used to life as a brain-eating zombie, but her problems are far from over. Her felony record is coming back to haunt her, more zombie hunters are popping up, and she’s beginning to wonder if her hunky cop-boyfriend is involved with the zombie mafia. Yeah, that’s right—the zombie mafia. Throw in a secret lab and a lot of conspiracy, and Angel’s going to need all of her brainpower—and maybe a brain smoothie as well—in order to get through it without falling apart.

Our favorite white trash zombie, Angel Crawford, has enough problems of her own, what with dealing with her alcoholic, deadbeat dad, issues with her not-quite boyfriend, the zombie mafia, industrial espionage, and evil corporations. Oh, and it’s raining, and won’t let up. But things get even crazier when a zombie movie starts filming in town, and Angel begins to suspect that it’s not just the plot of the movie that's rotten. Soon she's fighting her way through mud, blood, bullets, and intrigue, even as zombies, both real and fake, prowl the streets.

When Aesca Lampi wakes up in the form of her character from Eldest Fantasy Wars Online, she's annoyed by the historical inaccuracies. (Video-game-style scrolls? Really?) That is, until a building collapses on top of her, revealing she's on a fantastical island centered around the impossibly tall, glowing Tower of Aetherius . . . with an array of dangerous creatures—including jaguar hybrids, velociraptors, and giant, flesh-eating lizards—in the way. (Oh, joy.)

Along with her self-assured dragon-cat Arkaziel and the ghostly elf Werylin, aqua-haired Aetheria has reached the fiftieth floor of the Tower of Aetherius. But she's a little different than when she set out. For one thing, she's a third-tier magic user. For another, her soul has been connected to the Origin, the source of Ethereal power, which is bombarding her with all kinds of emotions. Not to mention she's having a little trouble desiring anyone but her soul-witch lover, Aoibhe.

Now that the Tower of Aetherius has been cleared, Aetheria, daughter of Aetherius and Nyx, has another tower to climb: the Tower of Moros, god of doom. Luckily, the Challenger of Aetherius is more powerful than ever, armed with her Astrum Nexus gloves, forged by Vulcan himself, and all the treasures of the legendary city of Nova Azura, which currently burns inside her...among other things. And, oh yeah, that means some voices in her head. (Don't worry about it).

Things are getting serious at the Society for Magickal Heritage. An ancient legend has plans for Ves, and Ves has plans for just about everything else. It’s time to take on the ultimate challenge—and hope for the best. What could possibly go wrong? Well, everything. As usual. But if old magick is going to survive in the modern world, it’s no use being cautious. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, and Ves is giving it everything she’s got. But can she handle the cost? And can the cost handle her?

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.

Arwyn has just purchased Fantasia: Fantasy Life, an immersive virtual-reality game that allows sleeping players to dive into a world of sword and sorcery with 99% realism. In Fantasia, Arwyn is Fey E’lan, a moon elf of the magical Elvenwood, whose unorthodox approach to gameplay—from befriending local monsters to putting a bag of holding inside a bag of holding—leads to a variety of unusual adventures and hilarious mishaps.

Somebody thought it would be a great idea to send us to the Troll Court. Because somebody imagined I might be the perfect person to help with a certain wild and crazy plan of Their Majesties' concoction. They want to restore the lost city of Farringale. I can only say that I heartily approve. There is the tiny problem of how, of course; but who better to dig up the truth than the Society’s most colourful agents? Off questing we go, armed with a long list of questions, two winning smiles (well, three, if you count the Baron’s — and who wouldn’t?) and a certain Dappledok pup.

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.

It’s all very well deciding to build the means to save British magick. Top marks for ambitious goals! ...But there are one or two obstacles in the way. For one, said means does not yet exist, and it’ll take a genius to sort that one out. Luckily, we’ve got one of those. We call him Orlando. For another, nothing at all can be built without materials, and no common-or-garden commodities will do. It’s got to be silver. The impossibly rare, virtually extinct kind. This one’s on me, Val and Jay.

Four years ago, somebody pinched perhaps the most valuable book in existence. Merlin’s personal grimoire. And the price they’re offering for its return is the kind we can’t refuse, so it’s Ves and Jay on the case. Except that there aren’t any clues. Seriously, not even a little one. Nothing’s going to solve this case but a Vesper-patented Crazy Plan, and it had better be a good one, for complications are sprouting like daisies. At least it’s a straightforward mission. There’s no earthly way this one’s going to turn my entire life upside down... right?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.