Enjoy these standalones and new series coming in 2022!

Epic Fantasy

• The Starless Crown, James Rollins, Jan. 4
  • An alliance embarks on a dangerous journey to uncover the secrets of the distant past and save their world.
• Servant Mage, Kate Elliot, Jan. 18
  • A group of rebel Monarchists free Fellion the light-mage from indentured servitude and take her on a journey to rescue trapped compatriots from an underground complex of mines.
• The Bladed Faith, David Dalglish, Apr. 22
  • A usurped prince prepares to take up the mantel of a deadly assassin and reclaim his kingdom, his people, and his slain gods.
• The Spear Cuts through Water, Simon Jimenez, May 3
  • A reluctant warrior goes on the run with an ancient goddess through a lush world full of wild magic, wondrous creatures, and hidden enemies.
• The Collarbound, Rebecca Zahabi, May 12
  • On the other side of the Shadowpass, rebellion is brewing. Looming high on the cliff is a fortress full of mages who offer protection, but also embody everything the rebellion is fighting against.
• Kagen the Damned, Jonathan Maberry, May 10
  • Kagen Vale is the captain of the place guard, charged with protection the royal children. But one night, Kagen is drugged and the entire imperial family is killed, leaving the empire in ruins.
• Flames of Mira, Clay Harmon, Jul. 5
  • People like Ig are born from life-threatening trials that bind chemical elements to the human body, forged in the boiling volcanoes and subterranean passages under Mira’s frozen lands.
• Into the Broken Lands, Tanya Huff, Aug. 2
  • To save their people, the Heirs of Marsan have no choice but to enter the Broken Lands, trusting their lives and the lives of everyone they protect to someone who shouldn't exist.
• The First Binding, RR Virdi, Aug. 16
  • I buried the village of Ampur under a mountain of ice and snow. Then I killed their god. I am legend. And I am a monster.
• Witch King, Martha Wells, Fall
  • (No blurb but I'm too excited not to include it)

We all stood there, waiting on our fates.

There were only thirty of us this term. Too few. Not long past, there would be thousands. But now only thirty. Twenty-eight if you removed the two Heirlines -- they were exempted from the auction. Off to their cozy castles as the first borns of First Families. How very fortunate for the fortunate.

But that was the way of things, yes?

They would do their duty and we would do ours. The Blood was too thin for there to be any other outcome. We had gained our education, been protected from the horrors of coming into our magic, and the price was the Contract on the other side.

I sighed, the finery of my embroidered Abyssal robe chaffing against my skin. I disliked the encumbrances of formality, and fewer things could be more formal than the graduation uniform and the process playing out before us. I attempted to tune out the droning calls of the auctioneer as he proceeded down the list, though the slam of the gavel upon the completion of each deal made that quite difficult.

I suppose I should feel some pride. I would be the last auctioned, because I was expected to fetch the highest price. Pride of place. And a good thing for it, as far as the School was concerned. My training had been quite expensive -- there were so few Chaotic resources available this side of the Veil -- but even still the School expected to make a hefty return on its investment.

Five years of education.

Ten years of service.

I would be thirty before I breathed free, assuming I lived that long. That was long odds. No one bid on a bearer of a Black Book without intending some level of mayhem. There were too many other sensible and practical Bearers who possessed potential for things other than mischief and destruction. Not so for me. All of my spells bent in a single direction. Even now, I could feel the weight of the book at my hip, bleeding baleful malevolence into my surroundings. Trying to push and distort the world. To ruin it.

Did I hate my book? There's no simple answer. Yes. No. Both. It was a symbol of my mastery over my magic. For that I was thankful. I had contained my magic, distilled it into words and pages before it consumed me. But the product of my labors was a vile thing. How much would I have given to be in another sect. To stand in verdant green robes. Or swirling blue. Or golden yellow. Or even white.

Yes. Even white.

Especially white.

My book stirred at the thought. I often felt it would be quite content to find another

I don't want to step on anybody's toes here, but the amount of non-dad jokes here in this subreddit really annoys me. First of all, dad jokes CAN be NSFW, it clearly says so in the sub rules. Secondly, it doesn't automatically make it a dad joke if it's from a conversation between you and your child. Most importantly, the jokes that your CHILDREN tell YOU are not dad jokes. The point of a dad joke is that it's so cheesy only a dad who's trying to be funny would make such a joke. That's it. They are stupid plays on words, lame puns and so on. There has to be a clever pun or wordplay for it to be considered a dad joke.

Again, to all the fellow dads, I apologise if I'm sounding too harsh. But I just needed to get it off my chest.

Do your worst!

I'm surprised it hasn't decade.

They were cooked in Greece.

For context I'm a Refuse Driver (Garbage man) & today I was on food waste. After I'd tipped I was checking the wagon for any defects when I spotted a lone pea balanced on the lifts.

I said "hey look, an escaPEA"

No one near me but it didn't half make me laugh for a good hour or so!

Edit: I can't believe how much this has blown up. Thank you everyone I've had a blast reading through the replies 😂

It really does, I swear!

Because she wanted to see the task manager.

but then I remembered it was ground this morning.

Edit: Thank you guys for the awards, they're much nicer than the cardboard sleeve I've been using and reassures me that my jokes aren't stale

Edit 2: I have already been made aware that Men In Black 3 has told a version of this joke before. If the joke is not new to you, please enjoy any of the single origin puns in the comments

They’re on standbi

BamBOO!

A play on words.

Pilot on me!!

Christopher Walken

Nothing, he was gladiator.

Or would that be too forward thinking?

Dad jokes are supposed to be jokes you can tell a kid and they will understand it and find it funny.

This sub is mostly just NSFW puns now.

If it needs a NSFW tag it's not a dad joke. There should just be a NSFW puns subreddit for that.

Edit* I'm not replying any longer and turning off notifications but to all those that say "no one cares", there sure are a lot of you arguing about it. Maybe I'm wrong but you people don't need to be rude about it. If you really don't care, don't comment.

What did 0 say to 8 ?

" Nice Belt "

So What did 3 say to 8 ?

" Hey, you two stop making out "

When I got home, they were still there.

I won't be doing that today!

We all stood there, waiting on our fates.

There were only thirty of us this term. Too few. Not long past, there would be thousands. But now only thirty. Twenty-eight if you removed the two Heirlines -- they were exempted from the auction. Off to their cozy castles as the first borns of First Families. How very fortunate for the fortunate.

But that was the way of things, yes?

They would do their duty and we would do ours. The Blood was too thin for there to be any other outcome. We had gained our education, been protected from the horrors of coming into our magic, and the price was the Contract on the other side.

I sighed, the finery of my embroidered Abyssal robe chaffing against my skin. I disliked the encumbrances of formality, and fewer things could be more formal than the graduation uniform and the process playing out before us. I attempted to tune out the droning calls of the auctioneer as he proceeded down the list, though the slam of the gavel upon the completion of each deal made that quite difficult.

I suppose I should feel some pride. I would be the last auctioned, because I was expected to fetch the highest price. Pride of place. And a good thing for it, as far as the School was concerned. My training had been quite expensive -- there were so few Chaotic resources available this side of the Veil -- but even still the School expected to make a hefty return on its investment.

Five years of education.

Ten years of service.

I would be thirty before I breathed free, assuming I lived that long. That was long odds. No one bid on a bearer of a Black Book without intending some level of mayhem. There were too many other sensible and practical Bearers who possessed potential for things other than mischief and destruction. Not so for me. All of my spells bent in a single direction. Even now, I could feel the weight of the book at my hip, bleeding baleful malevolence into my surroundings. Trying to push and distort the world. To ruin it.

Did I hate my book? There's no simple answer. Yes. No. Both. It was a symbol of my mastery over my magic. For that I was thankful. I had contained my magic, distilled it into words and pages before it consumed me. But the product of my labors was a vile thing. How much would I have given to be in another sect. To stand in verdant green robes. Or swirling blue. Or golden yellow. Or even white.

Yes. Even white.

Especially white.

My book stirred at the thought. I often felt it would be quite content to find another

Heard they've been doing some shady business.