Making Money (Discworld, Book 36; Moist von Lipwig, Book 2)

“Outlandish fun. . . . Making Money balances satire, knockabout farce and close observation of human—and non-human—foibles with impressive dexterity and deceptive ease. The result is another ingenious entertainment from the preeminent comic fantasist of our time.”—Washington Post

The hero of Going Postal has an even more dangerous job than the mail: overseeing the tanking Royal Bank and the printing of Ankh-Morpork’s first paper currency in this brilliant installment in New York Times bestselling author Sir Terry Pratchett’s beloved Discworld series.

The Royal Bank of Ankh-Morpork is facing a crisis, and who better to manage it than the man who turned around Ankh-Morpork’s inefficient Post Office, former arch-swindler-turned-Postmaster General Moist von Lipwig. Lord Vetinari once again makes Moist an offer he can’t refuse: resuscitate the venerable Royal Mint.

The bank has many problems: the chief cashier is almost certainly a vampire, the elderly chairman and her two loaded crossbows needs a daily walkie, there’s something strange happening in the cellar, and running the Royal Mint is costing a mint.

As Moist begins to make some ambitious changes, he accrues some dangerous enemies. Everyone knows money is power—and certain stakeholders will do anything to keep a firm grip on both . . .

The Discworld novels can be read in any order, but Making Money is the second book in the Moist von Lipwig series. The full series, in order, includes:

• Going Postal
• Making Money
• Raising Steam

Terry Pratchett (1948–2015) is the acclaimed creator of the globally revered Discworld series. In all, he authored more than fifty bestselling books, which have sold more than one hundred million copies worldwide. His novels have been widely adapted for stage and screen, and he was the winner of multiple prizes, including the Carnegie Medal. He was awarded a knighthood by Queen Elizabeth II for his services to literature in 2009, although he always wryly maintained that his greatest service to literature was to avoid writing any.