Start by marking “Fair Game (Alpha & Omega, #3)” as Want to Read: Patricia Briggs, the #1 "New York Times" bestselling author of the Mercy Thompson novels, "always enchants her readers." Fair Game is the third book in the Alpha & Omega series which features Anna and Charles. Fair Game (Alpha & Omega #3) Patricia Briggs, the #1 "New York Times" bestselling author of the Mercy Thompson novels, "always enchants her readers." (Lynn Viehl, "New York Times" bestselling author) Now her Alpha and Omega series-set in a world of shifting shapes, loyalty, and. Fair Game (Alpha and Omega) Mass Market Paperback – January 29, #1 New York Times bestselling author Patricia Briggs' third Alpha and Omega novel brings werewolves out of the darkness and into a society where fear and prejudice could turn the hunters into the prey.
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Editorial Reviews. Review. “The Alpha and Omega series gets its next transfixing installment as Fair Game (Alpha & Omega Book 3) - site edition by Patricia Briggs. Paranormal Romance site eBooks @ caubracderfama.ml Alpha & Omega Series by Patricia Briggs Cry Wolf - (Prequel On The Prowl is a Fair Game (3) - Patricia caubracderfama.ml KB. Dead Heat (4) - Patricia Briggs. Alpha and The Omega Series By Patricia Briggs On The Prowl 1. Cry Wolf 2. Hunting Ground 3. Fair Game 4. Dead Heat.
Highly recommended. If you like action, violence, romance and, of course, werewolves, then I urge you to pick up this series. See all Editorial Reviews. Product details File Size: Ace; Reprint edition March 6, Publication Date: March 6, Sold by: English ASIN: Enabled X-Ray: Share your thoughts with other customers. Write a customer review. Read reviews that mention alpha and omega patricia briggs fair game mercy thompson serial killer anna and charles thompson series charles and anna omega series urban fantasy hunting ground looking forward river marked brother wolf character development highly recommend north american even though cry wolf wait to see.
Top Reviews Most recent Top Reviews. There was a problem filtering reviews right now. Please try again later. site Edition Verified download. Briggs' use of custom, characterization and believability are used with such understanding in her world building.
I would live there, raise my kids there and expect to flourish in their world, which is so attuned to ours. It is a sad observation that humans sometimes just won't get along and accept the differences between us. This is the crux that makes this series so fascinating. Anna and Charles struggle, like the rest of us with right, wrong and finding the balance of things that life requires.
Characterization of groups are not tidy and like life, requires the reader to bring an open mind in order to assess what is really happening. Meeting new characters in this book; like agent Fisher and the Boston alpha Isaac, have me hoping they will be in future books as well.
All in all, an excellent read, keeping me at night because I just had to know Every once in a while a writer hits a home run. This is one of those, one of the best reads out there. There is romance, intrigue and mystery all put together masterfully. It flows from one chapter to the next in such a way, I didn't want to put it down.
There are not only interesting werewolves but deep and beautiful Fae as well. One note of caution, there are scenes depicting serious violence. They are done as descriptions rather than first person experiences which would have made this book horror. Her Mercy books are quite good, but these are my favorites out of all my books and I have plenty!
Things are rough going at first for Anna and Charles. Great work as always! One person found this helpful. This is such a pleasing gift of culmination and summation for many of Briggs best series. All of which have afforded me both entertainment.
And multidimensional illumination for my personal soul journey as well as my expansion of body wisdom. And how to use my inner training to serve best the evolution of collective and global tolerance as good citizens of this era and dimensional knowledge and tech tools and art and abilities to survive our lessons regarding leadership, polarity, power brokerage and the terrifying responsibilities of love.
My eternal forgetfulness. This story line has all four. Some good, some bad but all fascinating. To make a good story telling how Charles and Anna, werewolves, can become hero's without upsetting the Apple cart is truly a great author. Patricia spins a tale that brings together all four types of races. She makes some good, somebad , and some both just like in the real world. She has victims who are all four that need heros who came being justice to everyone. Do the good guys prevail?
Do the bad guys get caught? Have to read the book to find out. Patricia Briggs is truly amazing writer! This book hit close to home for me, I do not like it when the system fails those who have been wronged. In this book Anna and Charles help the FBi, Homeland Security and Cantrip to find a serial killer that has killed three werewolves and countless of victims.
The book takes a drastic turn when certain event and incident happens that leaves a surviving victim without justice that causes a very powerful fae to excert his own form of justice when the system failed to do so. That is a powerful message the book portrays, how many cases do we see in the news about victims and families being royally screwed by the systems that is set to protect them.
I love how Patricia Briggs writes these amazing stories that reflects our society and the issues that exist. I love how she takes these issues and woves them into interesting factors in the story and adds a realistic dimension that we can relate to as a reader.
I just can't believe I have to wait months before I can get my hands on Dead Heat! I really cannot recommend this author and both of her series enough, they are out of this world amazing! I'm grateful that Ms. Briggs is one of those.
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Be it her Mercy series or this one both of which interact within a well built world do so for me. It's not often that I leave a review, since I've been reading these books since the publication of the very 1st Mercy book, this is one of the few. These two series, both following the same timeline in differing locations, bring my imagination and education of folklore to bare. Increasing each with fun and including females characters I enjoy reading along males who, while dominant, arent overbearing.
See all reviews. site Giveaway allows you to run promotional giveaways in order to create buzz, reward your audience, and attract new followers and customers. Learn more about site Giveaway. Anna knew that when playing on her cello, her face was peaceful and distant — a product of much coaching from an early teacher who told her that biting her lip and grimacing was a dead giveaway to any judge that she was having trouble.
Her features weren't regular enough for true beauty, but she wasn't ugly, either, and today she'd used some makeup tricks that softened her freckles and emphasized her eyes. She glanced at him briefly. His Salish heritage gave him lovely dark skin and exotic to her features, his father's Welsh blood apparent only in subtle ways: the shape of his mouth, the angle of his chin. It was his job, not his lineage, that froze his features into an unemotional mask and left his eyes cold and hard.
His duties had eaten away at him until he was nothing but muscle, bone, and tension. Anna's fingers touched the strings and rocked, softening the cello's song with a vibrato on the longer notes. She'd begun with a bit of Pachelbel's Canon in D, which she generally used as a warm-up or when she wasn't sure what she wanted to play.
She considered moving to something more challenging, but she was too distracted by Charles. Besides, she wasn't trying to impress him, but to seduce him into letting her help. So, Anna needed a song that she could play while thinking of Charles. If she couldn't get Bran to quit sending her mate out to kill, maybe she could get Charles to let her help with the aftermath.
Presentation & Booksigning with Urban Fantasy Author Patricia Briggs
It might download him a little time until she could find the right baseball bat — or rolling pin — to beat some clarity into his father's head. She deserted Pachelbel for an improvised bridge that shifted the key from D to G and then let her music flow into the prelude of Bach's Cello Suite No. Not that that music was easy, but it had been her high school concert piece so she could practically play it in her sleep. Her fingers moving, she didn't allow herself to look at him again,no matter how hungry she was for the sight of him.
She stared at an oil painting of a sleeping bobcat while Charles stood at the door and watched her. If she could get him to approach her, to quit trying to protect her from his job.
And then she screwed up. She was an Omega wolf. That meant that not only was she the only person on the continent whose wolf would allow her to face down the Marrok when he was in a rage, but also that she had a magical talent for soothing wolfish tempers regardless of whether or not they wanted to be soothed. It felt wrong to impose her will on others, and she tried not to do it unless the need was dire. Over the past few years,Anna had learned when and how to best use her ability.
But her need to see Charles happy slipped over the barrier of her hard-won control as if it wasn't there at all. One moment she was playing to him with her whole self, focused solely on him — and the next her wolf reached out and calmed Charles's wolf, sent him to sleep, leaving only his human half behind. Charles turned and walked purposefully away from her without a word.
He,who ran from nothing and no one, exited their house by the back door. Anna set down her bow and returned her cello to its stand. He wouldn't come back for hours now, maybe not even for a couple of days. Music hadn't worked if the only thing holding Charles in its spell was his wolf. She left the house, too.
The need to do something was so strong it had her moving without a real destination. It was that or cry, and she refused to cry. Maybe she could go to Bran one more time. But when the turnoff for his house appeared, she drove past it.
Like as not Charles was headed to Bran's to tell his father what he'd done for the wolves of the world — and it would be. Besides, she'd already talked to Bran. He knew what was happening to his son; she knew he did. But,like Charles, he weighed the lives of all of their kind against the possibility that Charles would break under the strain of what was necessary,and thought the risk acceptable.
So Anna drove through town, arriving at a large greenhouse in the woods on the other side. She pulled over and parked next to a battered Willys Jeep and went in search of help. A lot of wolves called him the Moor — which he disliked, saying that it was a vampire kind of thing to do, take a part of who a person was and reduce him to it with a capital letter or two. His features and skin showed traces of Arabia by way of North Africa, but Anna agreed that certainly wasn't the sum total of who he was.
He was very beautiful,very old, extremely deadly — and right now he was transplanting geraniums. Make yourself useful and deadhead the roses along the wall. There would be no talking to him until he'd accomplished what he intended, whether that was to calm her down before they talked, get some free labor, or merely keep the silence while he tended his plants.
Knowing Asil, it could be all three. She worked for about ten minutes before she got impatient and reached for a rosebud, knowing that he always kept an eye on anyone working with his precious flowers. Take that little bloom.
See what happens. Beauty's father had stolen a flower at great cost. For some definitions of 'prince. You came to talk fairy tales, querida? Specifically, information about the beast who rules us all. Naturally I sought you out. Bran has to quit sending Charles out to kill.
It is destroying him. He is not a fragile rosebud who needs your tender touch to survive. I doubt that there are any other wolves with so many werewolf kills under their belt outside of present company. Anna shook her head at him, her hands curling into fists of frustration. Killing hurts him. Failing so spectacularly with Bran had taught her she needed to keep her own temper in check if she wanted to convince old dominant wolves of anything.
Of course it is necessary. Charles wouldn't kill anyone if he didn't see that it was necessary. And Charles is the only one dominant enough to do the job who is also not an Alpha, since that would cause trouble with the Alpha of the territories he must enter.
It doesn't mean that he can continue like this. Necessary does not mean possible. I do understand. You are Omega and Omegas are worse than Alphas about protecting their mates. But your mate is very strong. Anna knew that he didn't always get along with Charles, but dominant wolves often had that problem with one another. When he came home this afternoon, I used my magic to send his wolf to sleep, and as soon as the wolf was quiet he left without a word.
I told you that. Being Omega doesn't make you Allah. Asil had taught Anna all that she knew about it, which he seemed to believe gave him some sort of in loco parentis status. Or maybe he just patronized everyone. Charles is a stone-cold killer — ask him yourself. And you knew it when you married him. You should quit worrying about him and start worrying about how you are going to deal with accepting the situation you got yourself into.
She knew that he and Charles weren't bosom buddies or anything. She hadn't realized that he didn't know Charles at all, that Asil saw only the front he put on for everyone else. Asil had been her last, forlorn hope. Anna levered herself off the table. She turned her back on Asil and strode to the door, feeling the heavy weight of despair.
She didn't know how to make him, to make Bran, see how bad things were. Bran was the one who counted. Only he could keep Charles home. She had failed to persuade her father-in-law. She'd been hoping that Asil might help.
It was still light out and would be for a few more hours, but the air was already stirring with the weight of the waxing moon. She held the door open and turned back to Asil. You and Bran and everyone else. He is strong, but no one is that strong. He hasn't picked up an instrument, hasn't even sung a note for months. His father and I should speak. Bran had never objected, and another wolf might think he just never noticed.
Asil knew that Bran noticed everything and had chosen to allow Asil's subtle defiance for his own reasons. And that was almost enough to make Asil knock on the door and wait for an invitation to enter.
Leah was on the living room couch, watching something on the big TV. She looked up as he passed by and didn't bother smiling, while a woman screamed shrilly from the surround-sound speakers.
When Asil had come to Montana, Leah'd flirted with him — his Alpha's mate,who should know better. He'd allowed her the first one, but the second time he'd taught her not to play her games with him. So she sat on the couch, glanced up at him and then away, as if he bored her. But they both knew that he scared her.
Asil was slightly ashamed of that, only because he knew his mate, dead but still beloved,would be disappointed in him. Teaching Leah to be afraid of him had been easier and more satisfactory than just letting her know that her flirtations were unwelcome and would not gain her whatever it was that she wished. Had he not expected the Marrok to execute him in short order—which was the reason he'd come to the Montana pack — he might not have done such a thorough job of it. But he was not unhappy that Leah ignored him as much as possible — and less unhappy that the Marrok would not kill him than he had expected to be.
Asil found that life still had the power to surprise him, so he was willing to stick around for a little while longer. He followed the sound of quiet voices to the Marrok's study, pausing in the hallway to wait when he realized it was Charles, himself, talking to his father. Had it been anyone else, he'd have intruded, expectingthe lesser wolf — and they were all lesser wolves— to give way.
Asil frowned, trying to decide if what he had to say would play better with Charles in the room or not. Strategy would be important. A dominant wolf, such as he or Bran, could not be compelled, only persuaded. In the end he decided on a private talk and continued on to the library where he found a copy of Ivanhoe and reread the first few chapters.
Doubtless he'd scented Asil as soon as Asil had walked by the study earlier. Heroic deeds, sacrifice, and hope. Scott wasn't trying for historical accuracy. It was an interrogation technique he'd seen Bran use a lot and he figured the old wolf would recognize it. Bran snorted in amusement and gave in by beginning the conversation. I trust it wasn't a sudden desire to read Sir Walter's dashing romance. But it is about romance, sacrifice, and hope. Asil gave Bran a malicious smile.
You'd have asked her to come here twice as fast. It's good for you to have someone around who doesn't back down. Ah, the frustrating joy of having an Omega around. I remember it well. She's good for Charles, too. She signed on for the hard times as well as the bad.
She needs to realize that Charles's job is tough and that sometimes he's going to need time to deal with it. His Alpha's blank face told him he was right on target.
It's not easy covering up the deaths with stories of wild dogs or scavenger animals eating someone's body after they died from something else, not anymore.
Police are looking for signs that their killers might be werewolves, and we can't afford that. I told her she needed to grow up and deal with reality.
Which is only what a woman should be like, after all. It really isn't fair to blame them for it when it inconveniences us.
Asil smiled ruefully and caressed the book he held. When was the last time that one went more than a day without humming something or playing that guitar of his? He hadn't known. He rose to his feet and began pacing. Are you volunteering? One kill, or maybe as many as three or four, and his control would be gone.
Asil was too old,too fragile, to be sent out hunting werewolves. He would enjoy it entirely too much. He could feel the wild spirit of his wolf leap at the chance of such a hunt, the chance of a real fight and the blood of a strong opponent between his fangs. Bran was still ranting. I cannot send you. I cannot send Samuel because my oldest son is even more at risk than you are.
I cannot go because I'd have to kill every damned Alpha— and I have no desire to take every werewolf into my personal pack.
If not Charles, then who do I send? He caressed the fabric cover of the book and set it down on the table. I have always thought Ivanhoe should have married Rebecca, who was smart and strong, instead of choosing Rowena and what he thought was right and proper.
This way, Bran would have no one to argue with but himself. And Asil had always credited Bran with the ability to be persuasive. Bran stared at Ivanhoe. Its cover was a dull blue gray, the weave of the cloth a visible sign of its age. He ran his fingers over the indentations that were the title and the line drawing of a knight wearing sixteenth-century armor. The book had once had a paper cover with an even less appropriate picture on the front.
Inside, on the flyleaf, he knew that there was an inscription that he didn't open the book to find. He was pretty sure Asil had been here long enough to go through the whole damned library to fi nd this book.
Charles had given it to him, maybe seventy years ago. Merry Christmas, it said. You've probably read this book a dozen times before. I read it for the first time a couple of months ago and thought that you might take comfort in this tale of the possibility that two dissimilar people might learn to live together—a good story is worth revisiting.
It was a good story, even if it was historically inaccurate and romantic. Bran took the book and replaced it gently in the bookshelf before he gave in to his impulse to rip it into small pieces, because then he wouldn't stop until there was nothing left to destroy— and no one could manage him if that happened.
He needed Charles to be something he was not, and his son would kill himself trying to be what his father needed. How long had he lied to himself that Charles would be fine? How long had he known that Anna was right to object? There were many reasons, good, sound reasons, for Bran not to be the one doing the killing.
He'd given Asil one of them. But his real reason, his true reason,was more like Asil's, though that one was more honest about it. How long would it be until Bran started to enjoy the pleading, the suffering, before the kill?
He didn't remember much about the time he let his wolf take charge, though the world still had record of it and it had happened more than ten centuries ago. But some of the memories he did retain were of his terrified victims and the satisfaction their cries had brought him. Charles would never do that, would never glory in the fear others felt of him. He would never do more than what was needed. A paradox,then. Bran needed Charles to be just what he was— and Charles needed to be the monster his father was to survive it.
The phone rang, saving Bran from his thoughts. Hopefully it was a different problem he could sink his teeth into. Something with a solution.
Bran paused. It had surprised him no end when Adam, of all his Alphas, had been the one best suited to deal with the feds.
Adam had a terrible temper and not as tight a leash on it as was prudent. For that reason, Bran had kept him back, out of the limelight, for all of Adam's looks and charisma. But his experience in the military and his contacts as well as an unexpectedly good understanding of politics and political blackmail had turned him gradually into Bran's most useful political chessman.
It was unlike Adam to refuse. We've lost three people in Boston and the FBI thinks it's connected to a larger case and want a werewolf to consult with. The local Alpha isn't qualified— and he's too young to be good at diplomacy when his own people are dying. Mercy might be mated to Adam, but to his wolf she would always belong to Bran. Would always be his little coyote, who was tough and defiant, raisedby a good friend because Bran couldn't trust his mate with someone he cared about who was more fragile than his grown sons.
Adam gave a huff of laughter that eased Bran's ire.Graham's delivery has improved a great deal when compared to the first audiobook which I still adored, and as a result, he's now among my top three male narrators.
While Anna, an Omega, has the rare ability to calm others of her kind. February Reread. Nothing that would have attracted her attention if it weren't for Mrs. I don't think Mercy and Anna's sexual abuse have been handled all that well.. How long had he lied to himself that Charles would be fine?
Charles struggles with his ghosts.