Silver Borne (Mercy Thompson Series #5)by Patricia Briggs
Mechanic and shapeshifter Mercy Thompson never knows what the next day (or night) may bring. After all, her world is inhabited by witches, werewolves, and vampires. But now a book of fae secrets has come to light, and Mercy's about to find out just how implacable-and dangerous- the fae can be.
Mechanic and shapeshifter Mercy Thompson never knows what the next day (or night) may bring. After all, her world is inhabited by witches, werewolves, and vampires. But now a book of fae secrets has come to light, and Mercy's about to find out just how implacable-and dangerous- the fae can be.
Read an Excerpt
Table of Contents
Titles by Patricia Briggs
The Mercy Thompson Novels
The Alpha and Omega Novels
ON THE PROWL
(with Eileen Wilks, Karen Chance, and Sunny)
STEAL THE DRAGON
WHEN DEMONS WALK
THE HOB’S BARGAIN
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA
Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada
(a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)
Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.) Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia
(a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)
Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand
(a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)
Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa
Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
This is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
Copyright © 2010 by Hurog, Inc.
Map illustration by Michael Enzweiler.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
ACE and the “A” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
1. Thompson, Mercy (Fictitious character)—Fiction. 2. Automobile mechanics—Fiction.
3. Werewolves—Fiction. I. Title.
To Long-Suffering Editors who never lose their cool, Husbands who feed horses, Children who drive themselves and fix their own meals, to Vets who take panicked phone calls at all hours, and to all of you who give of your time, talents, and energy to help others and to be there when you are needed. My thanks.
There are many people who helped with this book. Thank you to Michael and Susann Boch, my friends in Germany who fix my German and provided Zee with his magic. Thank you to the two women who work at KGH and helped me find a safe space for Samuel. My apologies for losing the scrap of paper I wrote your names down on. If you catch me again, I will include your names in the next book. Thank you to Sylvia Cornish and the ladies of the book club who answered my questions about warrants. My thanks also go to Sgt. Kim Lattin of the Kennewick Police Department, who answered a number of urgent questions for me. To my awe-some husband, who choreographed many of the fight scenes (in this and other books). To Tom Lentz, who has a Kel-Tec and with Kaye and Kyle Roberson gave me excellent gun advice. As always, a very grateful author acknowledges the editing talents of the people who read, critiqued, commented, and argued along the way: Mike Briggs, Collin Briggs, Michael Enzweiler, Debbie Lentz, Ann Peters, Kaye and Kyle Roberson, Sara and Bob Schwager, and Anne Sowards.
As always, any and all errors in this book are the responsibility of the author.
THE STARTER COMPLAINED AS IT TURNED OVER THE old Buick’s heavy engine. I felt a lot of sympathy for it since fighting outside my weight class was something I was intimately familiar with. I’m a coyote shapeshifter playing in a world of werewolves and vampires—outmatched is an understatement.
“One more time,” I told Gabriel, my seventeen-year-old office manager, who was sitting in the driver’s seat of his mother’s Buick. I sniffed and dried my nose on the shoulder of my work overalls. Runny noses are part and parcel of working in the winter.
I love being a mechanic, runny nose, greasy hands, and all.
It’s a life full of frustration and barked knuckles, followed by brief moments of triumph that make all the rest worthwhile. I find it a refuge from the chaos my life has been lately: no one is likely to die if I can’t fix his car.
Not even if it is his mother’s car. It had been a short day at school, and Gabriel had used his free time to try to fix his mother’s car. He’d taken it from running badly to not at all, then had a friend tow it to the shop to see if I could fix it.
The Buick made a few more unhealthy noises. I stepped back from the open engine compartment. Fuel, fire, and air make the engine run—providing that the engine in question isn’t toast.
“It’s not catching, Mercy,” said Gabriel, as if I hadn’t noticed.
He gripped the steering wheel with elegant but work-roughened hands. There was a smear of grease on his cheekbone, and one eye was red because he hadn’t put on safety glasses when he’d crawled under the car. He’d been rewarded with a big chunk of crud—rusty metal and grease—in his eye.
Even though my big heaters were keeping the edge off the cold, we both wore jackets. There is no way to keep a shop truly warm when you are running garage doors up and down all day.
“Mercy, my mamá has to be at work in an hour.”
“The good news is that I don’t think it’s anything you did.” I stepped away from the engine compartment and met his frantic eyes. “The bad news is that it’s not going to be running in an hour. Jury’s out on whether it will be back on the road at all.”
He slid out of the car and leaned under the hood to stare at the Little Engine That Couldn’t as if he might find some wire I hadn’t noticed that would miraculously make it run. I left him to his brooding and went through the hall to my office.
Behind the counter was a grubby, used-to-be-white board with hooks where I put the keys of cars I was working on—and a half dozen mystery keys that predated my tenure. I pulled a set of keys attached to a rainbow peace-sign keychain, then trotted back to the garage. Gabriel was back to sitting behind the wheel of his mother’s Buick and looking sick. I handed him the keys through the open window.
“Take the Bug,” I told him. “Tell your mom that the turn signals don’t blink, so she’ll have to use hand signals. And tell her not to pull back on the steering wheel too hard or it will come off.”
His face got stubborn.
“Look,” I said before he could refuse, “it’s not going to cost me anything. It won’t hold all the kids”—not that the Buick did; there were a lot of kids—“and it doesn’t have much of a heater. But it runs, and I’m not using it. We’ll work on the Buick after hours until it’s done, and you can owe me that many hours.”
I was pretty sure the engine had gone to the great junkyard in the sky—and I knew that Sylvia, Gabriel’s mother, couldn’t afford to buy a new engine, any more than she could buy a newer car. So I’d call upon Zee, my old mentor, to work his magic on it. Literal magic—there was not much figurative about Zee. He was a fae, a gremlin whose natural element was metal.
“The Bug’s your project car, Mercy.” Gabriel’s protest was weak.
My last project car, a Karmann Ghia, had sold. My take of the profits, shared with a terrific bodyman and an upholsterer, had purchased a ’71 Beetle and a ’65 VW Bus with a little left over. The Bus was beautiful and didn’t run; the Bug had the opposite problem.
“I’ll work on the Bus first. Take the keys.”
The expression on his face was older than it should have been. “Only if you’ll let the girls come over and clean on Saturdays until we get the Bug back to you.”
I’m not dumb. His little sisters knew how to work—I was getting the better of the bargain.
“Deal,” I said before he could take it back. I shoved the keys into his hand. “Go take the car to Sylvia before she’s late.”
“I’ll come back afterward.”
“It’s late. I’m going home. Just come at the usual time tomorrow.”
Tomorrow was Saturday. Officially, I was closed on the weekends, but recent excursions to fight vampires had cut into my bottom line. So I’d been staying open later and working on the weekend to make a little extra money.
There is no cash in battling evil: just the opposite in my experience. Hopefully, I was done with vampires—the last incident had nearly gotten me killed, and my luck was due to run out; a woman whose best talent was changing into a coyote had no business in the big leagues.
I sent Gabriel on his way and started the process of closing up. Garage doors down, heat turned to sixty, lights off. Till drawer in the safe, my purse out. Just as I reached for the final light switch, my cell phone rang.
“Mercy?” It was Zee’s son, Tad, who was going to an Ivy League college back East on full scholarship. The fae were considered a minority, so his official status as half-fae and his grades had gotten him in—hard work was keeping him there.
“Hey, Tad. What’s up?”
“I got an odd message on my cell phone last night. Did Phin give you something?”
“Phineas Brewster, the guy I sent you to when the police had Dad up on murder charges and you needed some information about the fae to find out who really killed that man.”
It took me a second. “The bookstore guy? He loaned me a book.” I’d been meaning to return it for a while. Just . . . how often do you get a chance to read a book about the mysterious fae, written by the fae? It was handwritten and tough to decipher, slow going—and Phin hadn’t seemed anxious to get it back when he’d loaned it to me. “Tell him I’m sorry, and I’ll return it to him tonight. I have a date later on, but I can get it to him before that.”
There was a little pause. “Actually, he was a little unclear as to whether he wanted it back or not. He just said, ‘Tell Mercy to take care of that thing I gave her.’ Now I can’t get through to him; his phone is shut off. That’s why I called you instead.” He made a frustrated noise. “Thing is, Mercy, he never turns that damn phone off. He likes to make sure his grandmother can get in touch with him.”
Grandmother? Maybe Phin was younger than I’d thought.
“You are worried,” I said.
He made a self-deprecating noise. “I know, I know. I’m paranoid.”
“No trouble,” I said. “I ought to get it back to him anyway. Unless he keeps long hours, he won’t be at the store by the time I can get there. Do you have a home address for him?”
He did. I wrote it down and let him go with reassurances. As I locked the door and set the security alarm, I glanced up at the hidden camera. Adam would probably not be watching—unless someone triggered an alarm, mostly the cameras ran all by themselves and simply sent pictures to be recorded. Still . . . as I started for my car, I kissed my hand and blew it to the tiny lens that watched my every move, then mouthed, “See you tonight.”
My lover was worried about how well a coyote could play with the wolves, too. Being an Alpha werewolf made him a little overbearing about his concern—and being the CEO of a security contracting firm for various government agencies gave him access to lots of tools to indulge his protective instincts. I’d been mad about the cameras when he’d first had them installed, but I found them reassuring now. A coyote adapts; that’s how she survives.
PHINEAS BREWSTER LIVED ON THE THIRD FLOOR OF one of the new condo complexes in West Pasco. It didn’t seem like the sort of place where a collector of old books would live—but maybe he got his fill of dust, mold, and mildew at work and didn’t need it in his home.
I was halfway between my car and the building when I realized that I hadn’t brought the book when I got out of the car. I hesitated, but decided to leave it where it was, wrapped in a towel on the backseat of the Rabbit. The towel was to protect the book—in case I hadn’t gotten all the grease off my hands—but it worked okay to disguise it from would-be thieves, which seemed unlikely here anyway.
I climbed up two sets of stairs and knocked on the door marked 3B. After a count of ten, I rang the doorbell. Nothing. I rang the doorbell one more time, and the door at 3A opened up.
“He’s not there,” said a gruff voice.
I turned to see a skinny old man, neatly dressed in old boots, new jeans, a button-down Western shirt, and a bolo tie. All he was missing was a cowboy hat. Something—I think it was the boots—smelled faintly of horse. And fae.
Officially, all the fae are out to the public and have been for a long time. But the truth is that the Gray Lords who rule the fae have been very selective about which of them the public gets to know about and which ones might upset the public—or are more useful posing as human. There are, for instance, a few senators who are fae in hiding. There is nothing in the Constitution that makes it illegal for a fae to be a senator, and the Gray Lords want to keep it that way.
This fae was working pretty hard at passing for human; he wouldn’t appreciate me pointing out that he wasn’t. So I kept my discovery to myself.
There was a twinkle in the faded eyes as he shook his head. “Nope, he hasn’t been home all day.”
“Do you know where he is?”
“Phin?” The old man laughed, displaying teeth so even and white they looked false. Maybe they were. “Well, now. He spends most of his time at his store. Nights, too, sometimes.”
“Was he here last night?” I asked.
He looked at me and grinned. “Nope. Not him. Maybe he bought up some estate’s library and is staying at the store while he catalogs it. He does that sometimes.” Phin’s neighbor glanced up at the sky, judging the time. “He won’t answer the door after hours. Closes himself in the basement and can’t hear anyone. Best wait and go check at the shop in the morning.”
I looked at my watch. I needed to get home and get ready for my date with Adam.
“If you have something for him,” the old man said, his eyes clear as the sky, “you can leave it with me.”
Fae don’t lie. I used to think it was can’t lie, but the book I’d borrowed made it pretty clear that there were other factors involved. Phin’s neighbor hadn’t said he was working at the store. He said maybe. He didn’t say he didn’t know where Phin was, either. My instincts were chiming pretty hard, and I had to work to appear casual.
“I’m here to check up on him,” I told him, which was the truth. “His phone is off, and I was worried about him.” And then I took a chance. “He hasn’t mentioned any of his neighbors—are you new?”
He said, “Moved in not long ago,” then changed the subject. “Maybe he left the charger at home. Did you try the store phone?”
“I only have one number for him,” I told him. “I think that was his cell.”
“If you leave your name, I’ll tell him you stopped in.”
I let my friendly smile widen. “No worries. I’ll run him down myself. Good to know he has neighbors who are watching over him.” I didn’t thank him—thanking a fae implies that you feel indebted, and being indebted to a fae is a very bad thing. I just gave him a cheerful wave from the bottom of the stairs.
He didn’t try to stop me, but he watched me all the way out to my car. I drove out of sight before pulling over and calling Tad.
“Hello,” his voice said. “This is my answering machine. Maybe I’m studying; maybe I’m out having a good time. Leave your name and number, and maybe I’ll call you back.”
“Hey,” I told Tad’s answering machine. “This is Mercy. Phin wasn’t home.” I hesitated. Safely back in my car, I thought that I might have overreacted about his neighbor. The better I know the fae, the scarier they seem. But it was probable that he was harmless. Or that he was indeed really scary—but it had nothing to do with Phin.
So I said, “Met Phin’s neighbor—who is fae. He suggested calling the store. Do you have the store’s number? Have you tried calling him there? I’ll keep looking for him.”
I hung up and put the Rabbit in gear with every intention of going home. But somehow I ended up on the interstate headed for Richland instead of Finley.
Phin’s mysterious call to Tad and the suspicion I felt toward Phin’s neighbor made me nervous. It was a short trip to Phin’s bookstore, I told myself. It wouldn’t hurt to just stop by. Tad was stuck on the other side of the country, and he was worried.
The Uptown is a strip mall, Richland’s oldest shopping center. Unlike its newer, upscale counterparts, the Uptown looks as though someone took a couple dozen stores of various styles and sizes, stuck them all together, and surrounded them with a parking lot.
It houses the sorts of businesses that wouldn’t thrive in the bigger mall in Kennewick: nonchain restaurants, several antiques (junk) stores, a couple of resale clothing boutiques, a music store, a doughnut shop, a bar or two, and several shops best described as eclectic.
Phin’s bookstore was near the south end of the mall, its large picture windows tinted dark to protect the books from sun damage. Gilt lettering on the biggest window labeled it: BREWSTER’S LIBRARY, USED AND COLLECTIBLE BOOKS.
There were no lights behind the shades in the windows, and the door was locked. I put my ear against the glass and listened.
In my human shape, I still have great hearing, not quite as sharp as the coyote’s, but good enough to tell that there was no one moving around in the store. I knocked, but there was no response.
On the window to the right of the door was a sign with the hours the shop was open: ten to six Tuesday through Saturday. Sunday and Monday hours by appointment. The number listed was the one I already had. Six had come and gone.
I knocked on the door one last time, then glanced at my watch again. If I skirted the speed limit, I’d have ten minutes before the wolf was at my door.
MY ROOMMATE’S CAR WAS IN THE DRIVEWAY, LOOKING right at home next to the ’78 single-wide trailer where I lived. Very expensive cars, like true works of art, shape the environment to suit themselves. Just by virtue of being there, his car made my home upper-class—no matter what the house itself looked like.
Samuel had the same gift of never being out of place, always fitting in, while at the same time he conveyed the sense that here was someone special, someone important. People liked him instinctively, and trusted him. It served him well as a doctor, but I was inclined to think it served him a little too well as a man. He was too used to getting his way. When charm didn’t cut it, he used a tactical brain that would have done credit to Rommel.
Thus, his presence as my roommate.
It had taken me a while to figure out the real reason he’d moved in with me: Samuel needed a pack. Werewolves don’t do well on their own, especially not old wolves, and Samuel was a very old wolf. Old and dominant. In any pack except his father’s, he would be Alpha. His father was Bran, the Marrok, the most überwerewolf of them all.
Samuel was a doctor, and that was more than enough responsibility for him. He didn’t want to be Alpha; he didn’t want to stay in his father’s pack.
He was lone wolfing it, living with me in the territory of the Columbia Basin Pack, but not part of it. I wasn’t a werewolf, but I wasn’t a helpless human, either. I’d been raised in his father’s pack, and that was close to being family. So far he and Adam, the local pack’s Alpha—and my lover—hadn’t killed each other. I was moderately hopeful that would continue to be the case.
“Samuel?” I called as I rushed into the house. “Samuel?”
He didn’t answer, but I could smell him. The distinctive odor of werewolf was too strong to be just a leftover trace. I jogged down the narrow hall to his room and knocked softly at the closed door.
It was unlike him not to acknowledge me when I got home.
I worried about Samuel enough to make myself paranoid. He wasn’t quite right. Broken, but functional, I thought, with an underlying depression that seemed to be getting neither better nor worse as the months passed. His father suspected something was wrong, and I was pretty sure the reason Samuel was living with me and not in his own house in Montana was because he didn’t want his father to know for certain how badly broken Samuel really was.
Samuel opened his door, looking his usual self, tall and rangy: attractive, as most werewolves are, regardless of bone structure. Perfect health, permanent youth, and lots of muscle are a pretty surefire formula for good looks.
“You rang?” he said in an expressionless imitation of Lurch, dropping his voice further into the bass register than I’d ever heard him manage. We’d been watching a marathon of The Addams Family on TV last night. If he was being funny, he was all right. Even if he wasn’t quite meeting my eyes, as if he might be worried about what I’d see.
A purring Medea was stretched across one shoulder. My little Manx cat gave me a pleased look out of half-slitted eyes as he stroked her. As his hand moved along her back, she dug in her hind claws and arched her tailless butt into the air.
Meet the Author
Patricia Briggs lives in Montana with her husband, children, and six horses.
and post it to your social network
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
See all customer reviews >
Even though the human population knows that vampires, werewolves, and fae exist, it does not preclude mortals from fearing the paranormal. Mechanic Mercy Thompson is a shapeshifter who can turn into a coyote, but is mated with her beloved alpha werewolf Adam. His pack feels a coyote is beneath them on the food chain and using their mind control powers try to persuade Mercy that she is not good enough for their leader. While an outraged Adam is trying to ferret out who is destroying his pack and messing with his Mercy's mind, she has two other problems to contend with. Her friend Samuel the werewolf struggles with his human side so his beast keeps him alive while Mercy triess to give him a reason to live. A fairy wants her to return a powerful tome that a fae lent her; she kidnaps her friend Gabriel to insure Mercy cooperates, but the bookstore is shuttered permanently and Mercy knows the queen will try a double cross. The fifth Mercy Thompson urban fantasy is filled with action, romance and fae intrigue; perhaps the deadliest kind on the planet. Filled with various subplots that tie deftly together, the continuing adventures of Mercy and Adam make for another entertaining entry in a strong saga. However, it is Patricia Briggs' world-building skills on a par with early Laurell K. Hamilton that make Silver Borne a winner as readers will believe in shapeshifters, fae and vampires, oh my. Harriet Klausner
Enjoyed the fact that most of the story was about Adam and Mercy's relationship. Get more insight into the "pack's" magic. This is one of my favorite's in the series so far.
I was given this book as a gift. There are three kinds of books in the world; the failures, the satisfying reads and the life-changing reads. Patricia Briggs' Mercy Thompson series is one of the truly dependable satisfying series out there. These books won't change your life, but they will give you a good, entertaining read every time, and stand up to rereads as well. Silver Borne is the fifth book in the series following Mercy Thompson, mechanic and werewolf-raise coyote shifter with a knack for defying all odds. As such, there's really no way to evaluate this book without spoilers for previous books, so be warned and if you're just setting out in the Tri-Cities world, you might not want to read this review. Last time in Briggs' world Mercy Thompson got mixed up in a vampire plot that, after her brutal rape in book 3, nearly broke her. Luckily Mercy is getting a vacation from the vampires which allows her to deal with the other major things that happened in the last book--her magical mating to local werewolf Alpha, Adam. The attraction between defiant Mercy and overpowering Adam has been brewing from the first page of book one, when the two pretended to not be able to stand each other. But now Adam's past actions--namely declaring Mercy his mate a very long time ago, before he even tried showing his affection for her in order to keep her safe from the very dangerous werewolves that might see another predator shifter as competition--are coming to light. Adam's love and care are helping Mercy come back from the trauma of her rape, and ironically they're causing him some major problems in the pack, since many of his wolves are suspicious that Mercy would show no interest in the pack for years of being Adam's mate, and now suddenly wants a starring role. Add to that Mercy unknowingly being the guardian of a very powerful fae artifact, and being unable to let those who have shown her friendliness and kindness be abused by others and you have a complex twist of plots that don't go linear like most book plots, but blossom and grow into a collection of characters that seem to share bits of their lives with reader in each book. Briggs' books are fleshy and visual, featuring characters who are beyond fun and lovable. Humble and genuine, and dependable Briggs' skill brings readers loyally back for more of this world, which is neither over powered, nor self important, but is simply and truly, entertaining.
I loved the book, and thought it was great. Just as good as the rest of the books in the series. The perfect amount of action/romance/emotion. And for everyone else giving reviews... STOP GIVING GIVING 1 OR 2 STARS JUST BECAUSE IT'S NOT AVAILABLE IN E-BOOK YET. You are reviewing the BOOK, not Barnes and Noble. If you have a problem with BN's decision not to have it available in e-book yet, take it up with customer service, don't complain here in a review!
I love the first three books in the Mercy Thompson series (repeat LOVE) - but the fourth one is forgettable, the fifth one started out really well - but when it came to the conclusion it seems like the author went oh crap I have a deadline and rushed it. Great plot, fantastic characters, great lead up, ending was fine - just wasn't up to par writing wise to the rest of the book. If this were a movie - I'd say it's a must see as a matinee or rental - but don't pay full price.
Over the last few months, life has settled into a rhythm for Mercy. Still dealing with the aftermath of her recent trauma, Mercy's taking her newly established relationship with Adam, local werewolf pack Alpha, slowly yet surely forward even if their bond and her position in the Pack only work sporadically at best. Adam's pack has never really welcomed Mercy with open arms (troublesome coyote that she is), but she never would have expected some of Adam's wolves to meddle directly with their relationship. Upset and unsure of her next move, Mercy distances herself from the pack only to discover that her good friend and werewolf-roommate Samuel isn't coping as well as he had claimed to be. Deciding to keep stick to Samuel's side like glue, Mercy takes him on a short trip to return a borrowed book about the fae (a little light bedtime reading) when she determines that what she has, is in fact a powerful and ancient object - full of secrets about the fae - and worth more, to some, than her very life. Patricia Briggs is one of those authors who understands how to deftly compound kick-butt action with emotional turmoil. Her novels always contain a hefty portion of Mercy fighting tooth-and-nail to protect those she loves, but in "Silver Borne," she also gave us a Mercy who had to struggle just as hard to keep the emotional aspects of her relationships intact. Mercy and Adam, as a couple, are really put through the ringer this go-round but, dang it, there is just something about those two together that makes my heart sing. Something that makes me want to stand up and cheer every time they get a moment of quiet together. Either that or giggle at every shared oddball joke. Adam has always been a big winner for me, but his selfless actions toward - and defense of - Mercy in Silver Borne, left me straight-up Adam's #1 Fan. And although this is gonna sound like a obvious contradiction after my above statement, I was a tiny (very, very tiny) bit disappointed with Samuel's role in this novel. Ms. Briggs said that would be his book, but the end resolution for the demons he was staring down seemed a touch rushed. That said, I'm more than willing to overlook that small detail due to the enormous amount of goodness otherwise found in Silver Borne. Simply put: it's vintage Mercy. It's about a shapeshifting mechanic who, with brains and a heart, is always willing to go the distance to make things right for those she loves. I just love her to bits.
I, like many , was furious that I was unable to get this book from B&N on ereader. It's available at Amazon. I just downloaded the free Kindle for the PC and read this wonderful book in hours. This book for the most part is about a journey with three tasks. Mercy must find out who is trying to seperate her from Adam. She must return a book she borrowed from the Fae, kind of hard to do with a Fairy Queen getting in the way, and she must save Samuel from himself. While this may sound like too many things for one book, all are done well and answer many questions about the future of Mercy, Adam and Samuel. It was a well paced journey and I loved reading it.
LOVE, LOVE, LOVE, this series, mercy is a kick ass woman. If you enjoyed the Ania Blake series than youll love this one as well
I thought I would prefer the books that tend to favor the vampires. But, I discovered I like Iron Kissed more than Blood Bound. The same goes for this one over Bone Crossed. The Fae continue you to amaze me. There's always something new to learn. You wouldn't think they could be the most dangerous mythical creatures, but I'm beginning to change my mind. While the stories with the vampires tend to scare me more than normal, the one's with the Fae seem to test your intelligence. They want to know if you've been paying attention. I love how Mercy doesn't fit all the typical rules. It seems no one knows quite how she will react or how things will effect her (including Mercy herself). I really loved watching her relationship with Adam and the pack grow. I was not surprised to discover the deep rooted animosity towards her within the pack. I also wasn't surprised to watch Sam struggle with his wolf. I've actually been waiting for it to come for a couple books now (especially since Mercy chose Adam). Overall, I loved it and can't wait for the next in the series!
I'm not usually into these werewolf kind of books but...a friend turned me on to these and well...I'll have to say I enjoyed this! Patricia Briggs can write about werewolves in such a way that make them seem so real. They are wild and have a brutal, violent side, but their human side can be so vulnerable. She is really a remarkable writer.
This book was good, but thin on substance. A good, but not story advancing plot. This was the most uneventful book in the Mercy series so far actually. Not too much happened, and the characters weren't advanced very far with this plot. That said, it was a good book. Enough happened to keep you mostly satisfied, and nothing was really wrong with it. I would recommend it to someone, and you'll need the information in it for the next book I'm sure. So read it and keep up to snuff on your Mercy lore. LoL! The plot was interesting, but they just didn't seem to go deep enough with it. I'm waiting for the next one to hopefully be better.
Ok people, this is a review about how much you like the book. Not a synopsis, the publisher already did that for us. Nor, is it a book report for middle school. Don,t you have anything else to do? However, that isn't the real problem. Why are you all giving away the story. Big spoilers! Even if you're just saying the end was too happy. I'm afraid to read them because people are constantly spoiling the plots.
I am a big PB fan but this book has got to be one if her weakest. I dont think I will be finishing this series. At 228 pages this is scarcely more than a short story. Patty skips around in this one. She relies on the character development of previous books instead if making this book stand in its own right. Her big resolution at the end is a big let down and just seems like a rather convenient way of avoiding actually coming up with a decent plot line. Its made even quicker and choppier through a flashback to expkain how things resolve so quickly. Briggs quotes quite a bit of scripture in this one and its just... well weird. What happened PB?!?
The Mercy Thompson series is the fisrt series I really liked after reading all the Sookie Stackhouse stories. From the very first book it had me locked in. I love the characters! The stories are original and keep you interested through out the book. I read all five books in a week, I just couldn't put them down! If your looking for another series that will suck you in like Sookie than this is it!
If you have read any of Patricia Brigg's books you will love this book. The book was a little rushed in general, but still a really good read. It keeps your attention and it is very hard to put down! Makes you anxious for the next book in the series!
I couldn't put it down
please put more games on nookfor me
Good use of Underhill. I love the explenations of the Fairy powers. I recommend all the books in the series
I would like Bran please...please? He is far more interesting...
This books are well written, and the stories are amazing! But, I will really like to read more about Mercy and Adam relationship. If the writer wants to captivate more younger readers, she needs to put some love stories between all the action. But well, that my opinion.