Raymond's had a rough couple of days. Snatched from his allotment by a flying starfish from Uranus and sold as a delicacy in a Venusian food market, it seems like his luck has changed when he is rescued by the travelling circus. But then this isn't an ordinary circus.

There is nothing more powerful than a bad idea whose time has come. And there can be few ideas less bad or more potentially apocalyptic than that hatched by genetic scientist Dr. Stephen Malone. Using DNA strands extracted from the dried blood on the Turin Shroud, Dr. Malone is cloning Jesus.

Rankin's far-fetched steampunk sequel to The War of the Worlds! It's 1895; nearly a decade since Mars invaded Earth, chronicled by H.G. Wells in The War of the Worlds. Wrecked Martian spaceships, back-engineered by Charles Babbage and Nikola Tesla, have carried the Queen's Own Electric Fusiliers to the red planet, and Mars is now part of the ever-expanding British Empire. Professor Coffin has a problem: the pickled Martian's tentacles are fraying at the ends, and his Most Meritorious Unnatural Attraction (the remains of the original alien autopsy, performed by Sir Frederick Treves at the London Hospital) is no longer drawing the crowds. The less-than-scrupulous sideshow proprietor likes Off-worlders' cash, so he needs a sensational new attraction. Word has reached him of the Japanese Devil Fish Girl; nothing quite like her has ever existed before. But Professor Coffin's quest to possess the ultimate showman's exhibit is about to cause considerable friction among the folk of other planets. Sufficient, in fact, to spark off Worlds War Two.

AT LAST! The much-longed-for final part of the stupendous ARMAGEDDON trilogy. And so it came to pass that on 27 July 2061 in the land of Eden, the money-free Utopia, Rex Mundi did toil mightily in his back garden. And he did excavate a cesspit like unto the one which his wife Christeen - the daughter of God and the twin sister of Christ - had been giving him GBH of the earholes regarding the need for therewith. And verily in the midst of his labours did Rex's spade strike a buried object of not inconsiderable size. And lo. It were a marble statue of Elvis Presley. Oh yes siree! For Elvis looms large here, much to Rex's discomfort, which is further increased when he discovers that the walls of Jericho fell to the strains of 'It's Now or Never' and that David slew the dwarf Goliath wearing blue suede shoes. When Rex is confronted with The Singular Case of the Purloined Presliana, and the Luminous Order of the Sacred Sprout, he realises things are getting out of control...

Somewhere over the rainbow and just off the Yellow Brick Road stands Toy City, formerly known as Toy Town. And things are not going well for the city's inhabitants. There have been outbreaks of STC - Spontaneous Toy Combustion - and there are strange signs and portents in the Heavens. Preachers of Toy City's many religions are predicting that the End Times are approaching and that a Toy City Apocalypse will soon come to pass. But can this possibly be true, or is there a simple explanation - an alien invasion, for instance. With the body count rising and the forces of law and order baffled, it is the time for a hero to step forward and attempt to save the day. Well, two heroes actually, Eddie Bear, Toy City Private Eye and his loyal sidekick, Jack: our courageous twosome are about to face their biggest challenge yet, to save not only toykind, but the world of mankind too. Which should keep them out of the pub for a while.

A hilarious comic fantasy from the bestselling cult creator of the Brentford Triangle Trilogy Once upon a time Jack set out to find his fortune in the big city. But the big city is Toy City, formerly known as Toy Town, and it has grown considerably since the good old days and isn't all that jolly any more. And there is a serial killer loose on the streets. The old, rich nursery rhyme characters are being slaughtered one by one and the Toy City police are getting nowhere in their investigations. Meanwhile, Private Eye Bill Winkie has gone missing, leaving behind his sidekick Eddie Bear to take care of things. Eddie may be a battered teddy with an identity crisis, but someone's got to stop the killer. When he teams up with Jack, the two are ready for the challenge. Not to mention the heavy drinking, bad behaviour, car chases, gratuitous sex and violence, toy fetishism and all-round grossness along the way. It's going to be an epic adventure!

The fourth part of the "Brentford Trilogy". Amazing, but true, Brentford Town Council has agreed to host the next Olympic Games. However, something sinister is afoot in Brentford, and it is up to the regulars of The Flying Swan to save the world as we know it.

'Ahead, where once had been only bombsite land, the Lateinos & Romiith building rose above Brentford. Within its cruel and jagged shadow, magnolias wilted in their window boxes and synthetic Gold Top became doorstep cheese...' Something sinister is happening east of Ealing. The prophecies of The Book of Revelation are being fulfilled. Lateinos & Romiith, a vast financial network, is changing all the rules with a plan to bar-code every living punter and dispense with old-fashioned money. A diabolical scheme, which would not only end civilisation as we know it, but seriously interfere with drinking habits at the Flying Swan. Can Armageddon, Apocalypse and other inconveniences of the modern age be stopped by the humble likes of Pooley and Omally, even with the help of Professor Slocombe and the time-warped Sherlock Holmes of Baker Street ... ?

YOU ARE NOW LEAVING THE AGE OF AQUARIUS PLEASE LOWER YOUR SEAT WHEN RISING FROM YOUR HEAD. It was something to do with the cycles of history. The way great civilizations rise and fall. Golden ages and dark ages. Things of that nature. Few people noticed at first. The changes. They were subtle to begin with. Like when the Leader of the Opposition challenged the PM to step outside and settle things man to man. And the PM agreed. Or the way the baked ham rose up against Dave while he was standing in the check-out queue at Budgens. Small things. But they just kept getting bigger. And by the time everyone realized that something very strange was going on, it was all too late. The Earth had left behind the age of science and reason and moved once more into a time of myth. A time of legend and heroes. Of romance and wizardry and wonder. It was a time to take the mother of all giant leaps and enter - THE GARDEN OF UNEARTHLY DELIGHTS

'Outside the sun shines. Buses rumble towards Ealing Broadway and I'm expected to do battle with the powers of darkness. It all seems a little unfair...' You could say it all started with the red-eyed tramp with the slimy fingers who put the wind up Neville, the part-time barman, something rotten. Or when Archroy's wife swapped his trusty Morris Minor for five magic beans while he was out at the rubber factory. On the other hand, you could say it all started a lot earlier. Like 450 years ago, when Borgias walked the earth. Pooley and Omally, stars of the Brentford Laboiur Exchange and the Flying Swan, want nothing to do with it, especially if there's a Yankee and a pint of Large in the offing. Pope Alexander VI, last of the Borgias, has other ideas...

DO HOLOGRAMS DREAM OF ELECTRIC CINEMA? He wanted Hollywood. He got Brentford. He wanted Spielberg. He got Fudgepacker. He got who? Fudgepacker. Ernest Fudgepacker. Directed all those weird B-movies back in the Fifties. Whatever happened to him? He retired. Opened Fudgepacker's Emporium, a prop house catering to the more bizarre needs of the film industry. Amazing place. There you could hire anything from shrunken heads to a pickled homunculus. Trouble is, they just don't make that kind of movie any more. Ernie's going bust. In fact, if he can't come up with some big bucks pretty damn quick, he's going to lose the business. It will take a miracle to save him now. Young Master Robert believes in miracles. He has a dream. He wants to star in movies alongside The Greats. The Golden Greats. The dead Golden Greats. He's a boy boffin with computers and he's invented this system that could put the stars of yesteryear right back up there on the screen. Next to him. He's written a script and he's got piles of money (his dad owns the brewery), but Hollywood isn't keen. And Mr Spielberg didn't ring back. The lad needs a director and Ernie needs the dosh, and Ernie only lives up the road. Could this be the perfect partnership? Well, it could be...but then this is Brentford and when you make movies in this neck of the woods, you can be sure of a BIG surprise. And when Brentford takes on Hollywood, then Hollywood had better pack up and head for the hills.

Norman's definitely dead. His dad fell out of the sky and flattened him. And as Norman didn't want any regular full-time employment before he died, he certainly doesn't want any now. Especially not here at The Universal Reincarnation Company. There's far too many filing cabinets and far too much paperwork. Not that it's the company's fault. The blame really lies with God. If He hadn't decided to close down Hell, then Heaven wouldn't have got too overcrowded and there would have been no need to build the extension. And until the extension is finished, the U.R.C. will just have to keep on recycling all those souls in the big queue. If your taste is for a tender romance, taut with passion and desire, love and betrayal, then this raging stonker of a novel, bursting out of its leather pants with sex, scandal, murder, mystery, suspense, drama, action, adventure and Mad Car Disease, probably won't be for you. Sorry.