Welcome to Patricia Briggs’s world, a place where “witches, vampires, werewolves, and shape-shifters live beside ordinary people” (Booklist). It takes a very unusual woman to call it home—and there’s no one quite like Mercy Thompson.
By day, Mercy Thompson is a car mechanic in the sprawling Tri-Cities of Eastern Washington. By night, she explores her preternatural side. As a shape-shifter with some unusual talents, Mercy’s found herself maintaining a tenuous harmony between the human and the not-so-human on more than one occasion. This time she may get more than she bargained for.
Marsilia, the local vampire queen, has learned that Mercy crossed her by slaying a member of her clan—and she’s out for blood. But since Mercy is protected from direct reprisal by the werewolf pack (and her close relationship with its sexy Alpha), it won’t be Mercy’s blood Marsilia is after.
It’ll be her friends’.
About the Author
Patricia Briggs is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Mercy Thompson urban fantasy series and the Alpha and Omega novels.
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Table of Contents
Titles by Patricia Briggs
The Mercy Thompson Novels
MOON CALLED BLOOD BOUND IRON KISSED BONE CROSSED
The Alpha and Omega Novels
ON THE PROWL
MASQUES STEAL THE DRAGON WHEN DEMONS WALK
THE HOB’S BARGAIN
DRAGON BONES DRAGON BLOOD
RAVEN’S SHADOW RAVEN’S STRIKE
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
1. Thompson, Mercy (Fictitious character)—Fiction. 2. Automobile mechanics—Fiction.
For Jordan, whimsical, musical friend of critters furred, scaled, and feathered
There are dozens of people who have helped in this endeavor, but I am especially grateful to those who, on a moment’s notice, went through the manuscript with a fine-tooth comb—Mike Briggs, Dave and Katharine Carson, Laurie Martin, Jean Matteaucci, Anne Peters, Kaye Roberson, and Anne Sowards. I also would like to take a moment to thank the people who’ve worked so hard to determine that, yes, you can indeed cast a silver bullet—Mike Briggs, Dr. Kevin Jaansalu, Dr. Kyle Roberson, and Tom Lenz.
I STARED AT MY REFLECTION IN THE MIRROR. I WASN’T pretty, but my hair was thick and brushed my shoulders. My skin was darker on my arms and face than it was on the rest of my body, but at least, thanks to my Blackfoot father, I’d never be pasty pale.
There were two stitches Samuel had put in the cut on my chin, and the bruise on my shoulder (not extensive damage considering I’d been fighting something that liked to eat children and had knocked out a werewolf). The dark thread looked from some angles like the legs of a shiny black spider. Aside from that slight damage, there was nothing wrong with my body. Karate and mechanicking kept me in good shape.
My soul was a lot more battered than my body, but I couldn’t see it in the mirror. Hopefully no one else could either. It was that invisible damage that left me afraid to leave the bathroom and face Adam, who waited in my bedroom. Though I knew with absolute certainty that Adam wouldn’t do anything I didn’t want him to do—and had wanted him to do for a long time.
I could ask him to leave. To give me more time. I stared at the woman in the mirror, but all she did was stare back.
I’d killed the man who’d raped me. Was I going to let him have this last victory? Let him destroy me as he’d intended?
“Mercy?” Adam didn’t have to raise his voice. He knew I could hear him.
“Careful,” I told him as I left off mirror-gazing and began pulling on clean underwear and an old T-shirt. “I have an ancient walking stick, and I know how to use it.”
“The walking stick is lying across your bed,” he said.
When I came out of the bathroom, Adam was lying across my bed, too.
He wasn’t tall, but he didn’t need height to add to the impression he made. Wide cheekbones and a full, soft mouth topping a stubborn jaw combined to give him movie-star beauty. When his eyes were open, they were a dark chocolate only a shade lighter than mine. His body was almost as pretty as his face—though I knew he didn’t think of himself that way. He kept himself in shape because he was Alpha and his body was a tool he used to keep his pack safe. He’d been a soldier before he was Changed, and the military training was still there in the way he moved and the way he took charge.
“When Samuel gets back from the hospital, he’s going to spend the rest of the night at my house,” Adam said without opening his eyes. Samuel was my roommate, a doctor, and a lone wolf. Adam’s house was behind mine, with about ten acres between them—three were mine and the rest were Adam’s. “We have time to talk.”
“You look horrible,” I said, not quite truthfully. He did look tired, with dark circles under his eyes, but nothing short of mutilation could make him look terrible. “Don’t they have beds in D.C.?”
He’d had to go to Washington (the capital—we were in the state) this weekend to clean up a little mess that was sort of my fault. Of course if he hadn’t ripped Tim’s corpse into bits on camera, and if the resultant DVD hadn’t landed on a senator’s desk, there wouldn’t have been a problem. So it was partially his fault, too.
Mostly it was Tim’s fault, and whoever had made a copy of the DVD and mailed it off. I’d taken care of Tim. Bran, the head-honcho werewolf above all of the other head-honcho werewolves, was apparently taking care of the other person. Last year, I would have expected to hear about a funeral. This year, with the werewolves barely having admitted their existence to the world, Bran would probably be more circumspect. Whatever that would mean.
Adam opened his eyes and looked at me. In the dimness of the room (he’d only turned on the small light on the little table by my bed), his eyes looked black. There was a bleakness in his face that hadn’t been there before, and I knew it was because of me. Because he hadn’t been able to keep me safe—and people like Adam take that pretty seriously.
Personally, I figured it was up to me to keep me safe. Sometimes it might mean calling in friends, but it was my responsibility. Still, he saw it as a failure.
“So have you made up your mind?” he asked.
Would I accept him as my mate, he meant. The question had been up in the air too long, and it was affecting his ability to keep his pack under control. Ironically, what happened with Tim had resolved the issue that had kept me from accepting Adam for months. I figured if I could fight back against the fairy magic potion Tim had fed me, a little Alpha mojo wasn’t going to turn me into a docile slave either.
Maybe I should have thanked him before I hit him with the tire iron.
Adam isn’t Tim, I told myself. I thought of Adam’s rage when he’d broken down the door to my garage, of his despair when he persuaded me to drink out of that damned fae goblet again. In addition to robbing me of my will, the goblet also had the power to heal—and I’d needed a lot of healing by that point. It had worked, but Adam had felt like he was betraying me, believed I’d hate him for it. But he’d done it anyway. I figured it was because he wasn’t lying when he said he loved me. When I’d hidden in shame—I put that down to the fairy brew, because I knew ... I knew I had nothing to be ashamed about—he’d pulled my coyote self out from under his bed, bitten my nose for being foolish, and held me all night long. Then he’d surrounded me with his pack and safety whether I needed it or not.
Tim was dead. And he’d always been a loser. I’d be damned if I was going to be the victim of a loser—or anyone else.
“Mercy?” Adam stayed on his back on my bed, taking the position of vulnerability.
In answer, I pulled the T-shirt over my head and dropped it on the floor.
Adam was off the bed faster than I’d ever seen him move, bringing the comforter with him. He had it wrapped around me before I could blink ... and then I was pressed tightly against him, my bare breasts resting against his chest. He’d tipped his head to the side so my face was pressed against his jaw and cheek.
“I meant to get the blanket between us,” he said tightly. His heart pounded against mine, and his arms were shaking and rock hard. “I didn’t mean you had to sleep with me right now—a simple ‘yes’ would have done.”
I knew he was aroused—even a regular person without a coyote nose would have known it. I slid my hands up from his hips to his hard belly and up his ribs and listened to his heart rate pick up even further and a light sweat broke out on his jaw under my slow caress. I could feel the muscles in his cheek move as he clenched his teeth, felt the heat that flushed his skin. I blew in his ear, and he jumped away from me as though I’d stuck him with a cattle prod.
Streaks of amber lit his eyes, and his lips were fuller, redder. I dropped the comforter on top of my shirt.
“Damn it, Mercy.” He didn’t like to swear in front of women. I always counted it a personal triumph when I could make him do it. “It hasn’t even been a week since you were raped. I’m not sleeping with you until you’ve talked to someone, a counselor, a psychologist.”
“I’m fine,” I said, though in fact, once distance had released me from the safety he brought with him, I was aware of a sick churning in my stomach.
Adam turned so he was facing the window, his back to me. “No, you’re not. Remember, you can’t lie to a wolf, love.” He let out a breath of air too forcefully to be a sigh. He rubbed his hair briskly, trying to get rid of excess energy. Obligingly, it stuck up in small curls that he usually kept too short to look anything but neat and well-groomed. “Who am I talking about?” he asked, though I didn’t think the question was directed at me. “This is Mercy. Getting you to talk about anything personal is like pulling teeth at the best of times. Getting you to talk to a stranger ...”
I hadn’t thought myself particularly closemouthed. Actually, I’d been accused of having a smart mouth. Samuel had told me more than once that I’d probably live longer if I learned to bite my tongue occasionally.
So I waited, without saying a word, for Adam to decide what he wanted to do.
The room wasn’t cold, but I was shivering a little anyway—it must be nerves. If Adam didn’t hurry up and do something, though, I was going to be throwing up in the bathroom. I’d spent too much time worshipping the porcelain goddess since Tim had made me overdose on fairy juice to view the thought with any equanimity.
He wasn’t watching me, but he didn’t need to be. Emotions have a scent. He swung back to look at me with a frown. He took in my state with one comprehensive look.
He swore and strode back to me, wrapping me in his arms. He pulled me tight against him, making low, soothing sounds in the back of his throat. He rocked me gently.
I took a deep breath of Adam-scented air and tried to think. Normally, this wouldn’t be difficult for me. But normally I wasn’t all but naked in the arms of the hottest man I knew.
I’d misunderstood what he’d wanted.
To double-check, I cleared my throat. “When you said you needed my answer to your claim today—you weren’t actually asking for sex?”
His body jerked involuntarily as he laughed, rubbing his jaw against my face. “So, you think I’m the kind of person who’d do something like that? After what happened just last week?”
“I thought that’s what it took,” I mumbled, feeling my cheeks heat up.
“How long did you spend in the Marrok’s pack?”
He knew how long. He was just making me feel stupid. “Mating wasn’t something everyone talked to me about,” I told him defensively. “Just Samuel ...”
Adam laughed again, one of his hands on my shoulder, the other moving in a light caress on my butt, which should have tickled but didn’t. “I just bet he was telling you the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth right then.”
I tightened my grip on him—somehow my hands had landed on his lower back. “Probably not. So all you needed was my agreement?”
He grunted. “It won’t help with the pack, not until it’s for real. But with Samuel out of the way, I thought you’d be able to decide if you were interested or not. If you weren’t interested, I could regroup. If you agreed to be mine, I can wait until Hell freezes over for you.”
His words sounded reasonable, but his scent told me something else. It told me that my reasonable tones had soothed his worries, and his mind was now on something other than our discussion.
Fair enough. Being this close to him, feeling his heat against me, feeling his heartbeat race because he wanted me ... someone told me that knowing someone desires you is the greatest aphrodisiac. It was certainly true for me.
“Of course,” he said, still in that curiously calm voice, “waiting is much easier in abstract than reality. I need you to tell me to back off, all right?”
“Mmm,” I said. He brought a cleanness with him that washed the feel of Tim off my skin far better than the shower did—but only when he touched me.
I lowered my hands, sliding them beneath the waistline of his jeans and digging my nails lightly into his skin.
He growled something more, but neither of us was listening. He turned his head and tilted it. I expected serious and got playful as he nipped at my lower lip. The roughness of his teeth sent tingles to my fingertips, zings past my knees and down to my toes. Potent things, Adam’s teeth.
I brought my suddenly shaking hands around to worry at the button on his jeans, and Adam jerked his head up and put a staying hand on mine.
Then I heard it, too.
“German car,” he said.
I sighed, slumping against him. “Swedish,” I corrected him. “Four-year-old Volvo station wagon. Gray.”
He looked at me in surprise that quickly turned to comprehension. “You know the car.”
I moaned and tried to hide in his shoulder. “Damn, damn. It was the newspapers.”
“Who is it, Mercy?”
Gravel shooshed, and headlights flashed on my window as the car turned into the driveway. “My mom,” I told him. “Her sense of timing is unreal. I should have realized she would read about ... about it.” I didn’t want to name what had happened to me, what I’d done to Tim, out loud. Not while I was mostly naked with Adam, anyway.
“You didn’t call her.”
I shook my head. I should have, I knew it. But it had been one of those things I just couldn’t face.
He was smiling now. “You get dressed. I’ll go stall her until you’re ready to come out.”
“There is no way I’ll ever be ready for this,” I told him.
He sobered, put his face next to mine, and rested his forehead against me. “Mercy. It will be all right.”
Then he left, shutting the door to my bedroom as my doorbell rang the first time. It rang twice more before he opened the outside door, and he wasn’t being slow.
I grabbed clothes and desperately tried to remember if we’d done the dishes from dinner. It was my turn. If it had been Samuel’s turn, I wouldn’t have had to worry. It was stupid. I knew that she could care less about the dishes—but it gave me something to do other than panic.
I’d never even considered calling her. Maybe in ten years I might feel ready.
I pulled on my pants and left my feet bare while I searched frantically for a bra.
“She knows you’re here,” Adam said on the other side of the door—as if he were leaning against it. “She’ll be out in a minute.”
“I don’t know who you think you are”—my mother’s voice was low and dangerous—“but if you don’t get out of my way right this instant, it won’t matter.”
Adam was the Alpha werewolf in charge of the local pack. He was tough. He could be mean when he had to—and he wouldn’t stand a chance against my mom.
“Bra, bra, bra,” I chanted as I pulled one out of the dirty-clothes basket and hooked it. I pulled the thing around so fast I wouldn’t be surprised to discover I’d given myself a rug burn. “Shirt. Shirt.” I ransacked my drawers and found and discarded two shirts. “Clean shirt, clean shirt.”
“Mercy?” called Adam, sounding a little desperate—how well I knew that feeling.
“Mom, leave him alone!” I said. “I’ll be right out.”
Frustrated, I stared at my room. I had to have a clean shirt somewhere. I had just been wearing one—but it had disappeared in my search for a bra. Finally, I pulled on a shirt that said 1984: GOVERNMENT FOR DUMMIES on the back. It was clean, or at least it didn’t stink too badly. The oil smudge on the shoulder looked permanent.
I took a deep breath and opened the door. I had to duck around Adam, who was leaning against the door frame.
“Hey, Mom,” I said breezily. “I see you’ve met my—” What? Mate? I didn’t think that was something my mother needed to hear. “I see you’ve met Adam.”
“Mercedes Athena Thompson,” snapped my mother. “Explain to me why I had to learn about what happened to you from a newspaper?”
I’d been avoiding meeting her gaze, but once she three-named me, I had no choice.
My mother is five-foot-nothing. She’s only seventeen years older than me, which means she’s not yet fifty and looks thirty. She can still wear the belt buckles she won barrel racing on their original belts. She’s usually blond—I’m pretty sure it’s her natural color—but the shade changes from year to year. This year it was strawberry gold. Her eyes are big and blue and innocent-looking, her nose slightly tip-tilted, and her mouth full and round.
With strangers, she sometimes plays a dumb blonde, batting her eyelashes and speaking in a breathy voice that anyone who watched old movies would recognize from Some Like It Hot or Bus Stop. My mother has never, to my knowledge, changed her own flat tire.
If the sharp anger in her voice hadn’t been a cover for the bruised look in her eyes, I could have responded in kind. Instead, I shrugged.
“I don’t know, Mom. After it happened ... I stayed coyote for a couple of days.” I had a half-hysterical vision of calling her, and saying, “By the way, Mom, guess what happened to me today...”
She looked me in the eyes, and I thought she saw more than I wanted her to. “Are you all right?”
I started to say yes, but a lifetime of living with creatures who could smell a lie had left me with a habit of honesty. “Mostly,” I said, compromising. “It helps that he’s dead.” It was humiliating that my chest was getting tight. I’d given myself all the self-pity time I would allow.
Mom could cuddle her children like any of the best of parents, but I should have trusted her more. She knew all about the importance of standing on your own two feet. Her right hand was balled into a white-knuckled fist, but when she spoke, her voice was brisk.
“All right,” she said, as if we’d covered everything she was going to ask. I knew better, but I also knew it would be later and private.
She turned her angelic blue eyes on Adam. “Who are you, and what are you doing in my daughter’s house at eleven at night?”
“I’m not sixteen,” I said in a voice even I could tell was sulky. “I can even have a man stay all night if I want to.”
Mom and Adam both ignored me.
Adam had remained in position against my bedroom door frame, his body held a little more casually than usual. I thought he was trying to give my mother the impression that he was at home here: someone who had authority to keep her out of my room. He lifted an eyebrow and showed not even a touch of the panic I’d heard in his voice earlier. “I’m Adam Hauptman, I live on the other side of her back fence.”
She scowled at him. “The Alpha? The divorced man with the teenage daughter?”
He gave her one of his sudden smiles, and I knew my mom had made yet another conquest: she’s pretty cute when she scowls, and Adam didn’t know many people gutsy enough to scowl at him. I had a sudden revelation. I’d been making a tactical error for the past few years if I’d really wanted him to quit flirting with me. I should have smiled and smirked and batted my eyelashes at him. Obviously, a woman snarling at him was something he enjoyed. He was too busy looking at my mom’s scowl to see mine.
“That’s right, ma’am.” Adam quit leaning against the door and took a couple of steps into the room. “Good to meet you at last, Margi. Mercy speaks of you often.”
I didn’t know what my mother would have said to that, doubtless something polite. But with a popping sound like eggs cracking on a cement floor, something appeared between Mom and Adam, a foot or so above the carpet. It was a human-sized something, black and crunchy. It dropped to the floor, reeking of char, old blood, and rotten corpses.
I stared at it for too long, my eyes failing to find a pattern that agreed with what my nose told me. Even knowing that only a few things could just appear in my living room without using the door couldn’t make me acknowledge what it was. It was the green shirt, torn and stained, with the hindquarters of a familiar Great Dane still visible, that forced me to admit that this black and shrunken thing was Stefan.
I dropped to my knees beside him and reached out before snatching my hand back, afraid to damage him more. He was obviously dead, but since he was a vampire, that wasn’t as hopeless a thing as it might have been.
“Stefan?” I said.
I wasn’t the only one who jumped when he grabbed my wrist. The skin on his hand was dry and crackled disconcertingly against my skin.
Stefan has been my friend since the first day I moved here to the Tri-Cities. He is charming, funny, and generous—if given to miscalculations on how forgiving I might be about innocent people he killed trying to protect me.
It was still all I could do not to jerk away and rub off the feel of his brittle skin on my arm. Ick. Ick. Ick. And I had the horrible feeling that it was hurting him to hold on to me, that at any moment his skin would crack and fall off.
His eyes opened to slits, his irises crimson instead of brown. His mouth opened and shut twice without making any sound. Then his hand tightened on mine until I couldn’t have pulled free if I had wanted to. He sucked in a breath of air so he could talk, but he couldn’t do it quite right, and I heard air hissing out of the side of his ribs, where it had no business escaping from.
“She knows.” His voice didn’t sound like his at all. It was rough and dry. As he pulled my hand slowly toward his face, with the last of the air from that breath, he said intently, “Run.” And with those words, the person who was my friend disappeared under the fierce hunger in his face.
Looking into his mad eyes, I thought his advice was worth taking—too bad I wasn’t going to be able to break free to follow it. He was slow, but he had me, and I wasn’t a werewolf or vampire with supernatural strength to help myself out.
I heard the distinctive clack of a bullet chambering, and a quick glance showed me my mother with a wicked-looking Glock out and pointed at Stefan. It was pink and black—trust my mom to have a Barbie gun, cute but deadly.
“It’s all right,” I told her hastily—my mother wouldn’t hesitate to fire if she thought he was going to hurt me. Normally I wouldn’t worry about someone shooting at Stefan, vampires not being that vulnerable to guns, but he was in bad shape. “He’s on our side.” Hard to sound convincing when he was pulling me toward him, but I did my best.
Adam grabbed Stefan’s wrist and held it, so instead of Stefan pulling me toward him, the vampire was slowly raising his own head off the floor. As he came closer to my arm, Stefan opened his mouth and scraps of burnt skin fell on my tan carpet. His fangs were white and lethal-looking, and also a lot bigger than I remembered them being.
Excerpted from "Bone Crossed"
Copyright © 2010 Patricia Briggs.
Excerpted by permission of Penguin Publishing Group.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
The 4th book in the Mercy Thompson series picks up exactly where 3 left off. Mercy has alot of healing to do mentally & emotionally after the rape and as much as she wants to just "snap out of it", it does take time. She also has to deal w/ Adam,the werewolf alpha making her an offical member of the pack and the rest of the pack that may not want her there. She also discovers that the mistress of the local vampire seeth knows Mercy killed one of her vamps awhile back and wants her dead. Her vampire friend Stefan, who helped cover up the other vamps death is kicked out of the seeth and goes to Mercy to warn and help protect her. Unfortunately, another vampire also has his sights set on the coyote walker and is determined to use her friends against her in order to capture her for himself. We learn more about the pack and pack magic in this book and Mercy does heal well enough to get through the book and come out on top as the strong heroine we all know and love.
The Mercy Thompson series was my first real foray into "urban fantasy." I was a little worried, as the urban fantasy genre can be utterly terrible, but as Patricia Briggs's proves here, it can be absolutely wonderful if done right. One of my pet peeves in the urban fantasy genre is the standard "overly sexy, sort of gooey female heroine," if that makes any sense. Whatever the bad version of heroine is, it isn't Mercy. She's normal (aside from being a walker), with just the right amount of humor, strength, and capability. She's not your vapid, stupidly self-sacrificing, "oh please come save me, powerful immortal boyfriend!" (*cough BELLA cough*), but she has an awareness of her limits as a coyote in a world of vampires, werewolves, and fae and accepts the occasional rescue if necessary. If Twilight had characters like Mercy and Adam and Sam, it would have been a good book. The romance is perfect, too. I know people expect this series to be paranormal romance books, and they are but it's very subtle. It takes until books three and four before things really start to develop. A little tame for those looking specifically for romance, but I appreciated the natural course of Mercy's romance... romances. It was the hinting that made the reading worthwhile. Incremental revelation is what literature and life are all about. In addition, Briggs deals with some very serious topics in a very real way. Mercy reacts and heals like a normal person after the events in book three (again, kudos to Briggs for having a heroine in a tough spot who deals with her tormentor herself without waiting for aid from the bf and pack). I read all four of these books at once. Thank goodness for the Kindle for iPhone. I couldn't download them fast enough. Briggs has done a great job with this series. I was delighted to hear that there are more coming, and very sad that I'll have to wait a year to read the next one. In the meantime, I am lovin' the K S Michaels series.
I get so excited when my favorite authors break into hardcover. In fact, I'm pleased as punch to shell out the bigger bucks because it means that the awesome I've been basking in for awhile now has finally caught on and is being recognized on a wider scale. So it was, in a word, thrilling to open up the package from Penguin and see the words "#1 New York Times Bestselling Author" atop Patricia Briggs' shiny new hardcover BONE CROSSED.
Mercy Thompson starts her fourth adventure staring herself down in the mirror trying to decide where to go from here. The closing events of IRON KISSED left our favorite VW mechanic feeling, at best, very conflicted. She managed to make several key decisions, but can't quite seem to outrun her demons. Of course occupying the place of honor as lone walker, Alpha's declared mate, and vampire public enemy #1 doesn't help. She doesn't have long to fret, though, when an old acquaintance shows up on her doorstep convinced Mercy can banish a ghost for her. Meanwhile, a pair of crossed bones show up on the door of her shop branding her traitor, her place in the pack is still perilously unclear, and her mother drops in unannounced. On the positive side, Stefan plays a much larger role in this one. It was good to have him back after his rather conspicuous, though necessary, absence in IRON KISSED. His friendship with Mercy remains a highlight of the series for me.
If you haven't guessed by now, these books are hands down my favorite urban fantasy series out there. I am ridiculously fond of them. And a big reason why is the nimble way Ms. Briggs walks that infinitesimally fine line between keeping things interesting and staying true to her characters. Beset on all sides by the supernatural, the macabre, and the horrific, her characters continue to feel so real to me. Like I could step into their world and accept it lock, stock, and barrel because Mercy's there in her garage. And what could be more normal than that? BONE CROSSED had the same gritty feel that MOON CALLED had, as well as the dry humor and breathtaking timing of BLOOD BOUND. Being the fourth installment, these characters know each other pretty well by now and so the interpersonal issues swirl around the arc of the mystery, lending it a richness you'll want to sink your teeth into. This series has it all. Good guys worth fighting for. Bad guys worth having nightmares over. And a heroine who can handle them all. More. Please.
In the fourth book of the Mercy Thompson Series Mercy is once again up against bad vampires including an old enemy Marsilia.This is a great series I love Mercy she is such a strong independent woman.She takes care of herself even though she has all these Alpha Males/Werewolves on her side ,She fights for who she cares about and she fights for herself and tries her best not to become a "victim".What I really like about this book was that after the awful trauma she went through in the last book it wasn't just oh that story is over she's all better,no she deals with post traumatic stress and panic attacks.I like that she is relatable even in a fantasy world. I also appreciate the fact that the writer of this book Patricia Briggs doesn't need to go into the long drawn out sex/love scene her writing reminds me of the old movies where you got to see the build-up and then the couple closing the bedroom door. I will definitely keep reading about Mercy ,and recommending this book.5*****
Two weeks ago I bought the 1st book in the Mercy Thompson series and was hooked. Since, I've gone through each and every one with much relish! The characters are dynamic and each one has a progressively developed personality. Patricia Briggs never lets you down and each time I open a new book of hers I feel like I've stepped into a wonderful world. I highly recommend the series and the author.
That I have to wait two more months for the next book in this series to come out. It took me two nights to read Bone Crossed, and I was so inspired by Patricia Briggs and her Mercy Thompson that I cried my eyes out when I was done. Such beauty is portrayed in these books, a beauty you will not realize unless you step into this Walker's shoes, and see it through her eyes. An excellent write, Patricia Briggs will always have a way of amazing me, be it through the Mercy Thompson series, or the Alpha and Omega books. I cannot wait for Silver Bourne, I have it's release marked on my calendar.
I thought the book was terrific. Briggs always carries over seamlessly from one book to the other. I am thrilled that Mercy and Adam resolved their relationship impasse. I like the way that the author ties in different groups of paranormal beings into her stories. Which brings me to the vampires. You knew that eventually the situation that was pending with Mercy and the vamps led by Marsilia needed resolution. I like the possibilities that the book leaves there for Stefan and Mercy's friendship.
I have to say when I stumbled on the Mercy Thompson novels I was totally stoked, a new paranormal novel to devour. I'm weird like that. But then I got lost in the characters -- so, so true to life -- and the plot. There is a romantic thread through all the novels, but the Mercy Thompson novels are not romance novels. But like in life, relationships play out. There are a few things I can say about the characters -- they could teach us a thing or two about loyalty, friendship and acceptance. I love the way the pack doesn't just embrace Mercy just because Adam tells them she's pack. The whole Stefan loyalty/betrayal thing really got me thinking and made me VERY glad I'm not a Briggs style vampire. Briggs really captures humanity in both her characters and her writing style. It flows like a converstation and is very easy to read. This is not an old literature novel to be read, then re-read and then dissected for meaning. At the same time, it's not a third grade read either. If I were to pick an author most like Patricia Briggs (writing style-wise) is J.R. Ward of the Black Dagger Series. It's contemporary and the setting is very real. You don't get suddenly a make believe place just because it's convenient -- the Tri-cities are thoroughly human. Also, I think the fae reservations (mentioned more in book #3) are genius. Every time I think of what we don't know about the fae I laugh, the fae are ever clever. :) The Oakman is so tragic but I hope that he shows up in any further Mercy novels, because that little guy was so brave. I think Mercy penned it right when she said he had been looking for the 2nd method of escape... which makes me want to know how he get along when he got the 1st. I tried not to ruin the story for you but I wanted you to know my opinion. Patricia Briggs is a master story-teller and makes these books paint vivid cinemas in the mind. The first time I read it, because I've read it maybe 6 times now, I couldn't put it down. I was almost late to work because I couldn't put it down and so I didn't get to sleep until very late (or very early...?).
Bone Cossing was a thrilling book from the begining to the end. It wasn't hard to get caught up in the suspense surrounding Mercy and wondering if she would make it through or become a victim . The character interaction was equaling as thrilling. All of the characters were given a place in the plot leaving an opening for a follow up book. The book was thrilling, suspenseful and romantic all in one. The only thing that left the book lacking is there was not a prelude to the next book in the series.
The worst part was when the author stated that Charles was Bran's oldest son. I hate it when the author and her editorial minions forget what has been written in the previous books. Ugh
I love this series, mercy is one tough woman, she keep.pushing even if she cant see the light just yet. This seires is the kind where youll laugh and cry. The author taes u along for the ride of mercy's world and it keeps u coming bac wanting more. If u liked the anita blake series, you'll love this one. Just dont expect to get much done when u start reading this book, :) because you wont want to put it down.
This finally in the Mercy Thompson Saga is at least as strong as the three books that lead us to this point. It's not often a writer sets the bar this high and keeps it there all the way through. If you've read the beginning of the series you shouldn't wait to finish it. I'll say this though. I wouldn't recommend starting here, you should read "Blood Bound" first, if not the entire series.
I have enjoyed all of the Mercy Thompson books but this one is by far the best. The development of her relationship with Adam was great. I can't wait to read the next one!
So I recently have joined the relm of ficition and as a second book of fiction to start reading I think this an excellent book. I would find my self lost in it. laughing at funny parts. I would catch myself totally enthralled in it and thinking i was there for a moment. The style and the story keep you wanting more. Must read.
It was a great read! I could hardly put it down. I was totally enmeshed with the storyline. I hope there is another book following this one!
Mercy Thompson novels all have one thing in common...they leave you wanting more after each book! They are so entertaining you want to drift off in the world described.
I am sooooooooooo addicted to the Mercy series. Patricia Briggs is an awesome writer. I can't wait for the next box to come out!!! I have re-read these books several times already and will do so again many times. I can't wait for the next one!!
I love Mercy. She is constantly finding new ways to making trouble and getting out of it eventually. This time there are more ghosts, more vampires, and fae to assist in her trouble.
Briggs knows just how to make a story exciting and witty. She creates a believable atmosphere for her characters and the reader. Her work is vivid and full of non-stop adventure, laughter, drama, and romance...with just the right amount of fantasy. Her work is original and intriguing, something not to be missed! In Briggs' fourth installment of the Mercy Thompson series, Bone Crossed, Briggs keeps her lovable and exciting story going. We are only happy to share, once agian, our favorite shapeshifter's world with her, reveling in the character's complexities and originallity. This fourth Mercy novel should not be ignored!
I have been keeping up the Mercy Thompson series. I enjoy the way Ms.Briggs gives you a little more insight into each characters motivation as the series continues. I read this book in one afternoon and the plot moved along, and I was never bored. There is a little romance going on between Adam and Mercy, and finally in "Bone Cross," you get Mercy to commit herself to Adam and his pack. The book doesn't contain much if any sex, and the profanity is kept very low. A really good read!
I love Patricia Briggs. I especially love her Mercy Thompson series. Usually I would say that it could never falter. However, this latest installment fell flat compared to the others. I was expecting a development with Mercy's new romantic relationship, there really wasn't that much. The part of the book would have to be the development between Stefan and Mercy's friendship. All in all I'd say an okay filler book for the series.
As an avid reader I am always looking for a new series that is not a retread of other authors and Patricia Briggs hit the mark with the characters in this series. Mercy Thompson is an original character that sets the pulse for this fantastic series. What I like so much about these books is that there is actually a plot and just enough of suspense, character development, and twists to keep me coming back for more and making this as a recommendation whenever I am asked if I know of any good series. Keep them coming and I will keep buying them!
Any Mercy fan would be a fool not to own this one! My god, I literally did not stop reading until the last page turned, and I was like "Huh? No!!!" Excellent read, and worth it in hard cover.
I was afraid the "Mercy" part of this series was over but I'm glad to see she is back and just as great a character as ever.
This was an excellent book. Of course I love all the Mercy books! I can't wait for the next one!