Tom Holt

There are all kinds of products. The good ones. The bad ones. The ones that stay in the garage mouldering for years until your garden gnome makes a home out of them. Most are harmless if handled properly, even if they do contain traces of peanuts. But some are not. Not the ones that contain traces of magic. Chris Popham wasn't paying enough attention when he talked to his SatNav. Sure, she gave him directions, never backtalked him, and always led him to his next spot on the map with perfect accuracy. She was the best thing in his life. So was it really his fault that he didn't start paying attention when she talked to him? In his defence, that was her job. But when 'Take the next right' turned into 'Excuse me, ' that was when the real trouble started. Because sometimes a SatNav isn't a SatNav. Sometimes it's an imprisoned soul trapped inside a metal box that will do anything it can to get free. And some products you just can't return.

Reading level: M [purple].

Heaven knows, it's a mess; it really is. The angels hate their jobs and the staff in that other department, the hot one downstairs, would really rather you didn't refer to them as... well, you know. The sun is 30 billion miles overdue for a service and is being driven by a teenager with no training and there's trouble over at Blasphemy, where the top position's been vacant for the past 300 years, which means that no one is authorised to throw thunderbolts at blasphemers (it's no wonder the humans have started to misbehave). Meanwhile, over at the Sunneyvoyde Residential Home for Retired Gods, Marduk, the 6,000-year-old deity of the ancient Sumerians, is suffering from arthritis, Osiris is having trouble with his nephew, and Pan has taken up refuge in the centre of a nearby nuclear power station. The Divine Comedies brings together two of Tom Holt's novels, Here Comes the Sun and Odds and Gods

Two of Tom Holt's best-loved tales are brought together in this omnibus edition. In Overtime, it all started for Guy Goodlet somewhere over Caen. One moment he was heading for the relative safety of the coast, aware that fuel was low and that the Mosquito had more than a few bullet holes in it. The next, his co-pilot was asking to be dropped off. This would have been odd if Peter had still been alive. Since he was dead, it was downright worrying. In Grailblazers, 1,500 years have passed and the Grail is still missing, presumed ineffable; the Knights have dumped the Quest and now deliver pizzas; the sinister financial services industry of the lost kingdom of Atlantis threatens the universe with fiscal Armageddon; while in the background lurks the dark, brooding, red-caped presence of Father Christmas.

Ever been offered a promotion that seems too good to be true? You know - the sort they’d be insane to be offering to someone like you. The kind where you snap their arm off to accept, then wonder why all your long-serving colleagues look secretly relieved, as if they’re off some strange and unpleasant hook …It’s the kind of trick that deeply sinister companies like J.W. Wells & Co. pull all the time. Especially with employees who are too busy mooning over the office intern to think about what they’re getting into. And it’s why, right about now, Paul Carpenter is wishing he’d paid much less attention to the gorgeous Melze, and rather more to a little bit of job description small-print referring to ‘pest’ control …

The course of true love never runs smooth - particularly when there's a goblin in the way! Tom Holt cordially invites readers to join him in his world of madness with this comic fantasy novel about a man who finds himself working for a deeply sinister organization with a mighty peculiar agenda.