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About Dead Heat
Product Description Praised for having “the perfect blend of action, romance, suspense, and paranormal”*, #1 New York Times bestselling author Patrica Briggs's Alpha and Omega series now takes readers into the middle of some bad supernatural business… For once, mated werewolves Charles Cornick and Anna Lantham are not traveling because of Charles’s role as his father’s enforcer. This time, their trip to Arizona is purely personal. Or at least their visit starts out that way... Charles and Anna soon discover that a dangerous fae being is on the loose, replacing human children with simulacrums. The fae have started a cold war with humanity that's about to heat up—and Charles and Anna are in the crossfire. *Rex Robot Reviews Review “Grade: A. A definite recommend.”—Dear Author “Gripping and intense, Dead Heat is everything an urban fantasy novel should be — it doesn’t get better than this!”—RT Book Reviews “Briggs offers the complete package, a book with interesting world building, lovely characters, and stakes that could not be higher. Dead Heat is a great addition to the series.”—All Things Urban Fantasy More Praise for the Alpha and Omega Novels “A terrific saga.”—Midwest Book Review “Briggs has created such a detailed and well thought out world that I am helpless to resist.”—Fiction Vixen “[Briggs] spins tales of werewolves, coyote shifters and magic and, my, does she do it well...If you like action, violence, romance and, of course, werewolves, then I urge you to pick up this series.”—USATODAY.com “Interesting, fast-paced urban fantasy...[An] imaginative writer who always leaves fans anxiously waiting for the next tale.”—Monsters and Critics “Patricia Briggs is amazing…Her Alpha and Omega novels are fantastic.”—Fresh Fiction 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. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. Prologue December The fae lord stalked back and forth in his cell of gray stone. Three steps, turn, four steps, turn, three steps. He could do it all day. Had, in fact, done it for two weeks. His boots were soft and he made no sound as he paced. Sound distracted him unduly from his purpose—which was to bore himself to the point where he no longer thought about anything. His clothes, like his boots, were practical, but still representative of his position as High Court Lord—though he no longer remembered much about that part of his life. Still, his long red hair was confined in a complicated series of braids that trailed the floor behind him, a court fashion of at least a millennium ago. Doubtless if there were still courts, still High Courts, he would be considered out of fashion entirely. He’d worn High Court dress for the first week he was here, but there was no one to impress, so he’d left them off and exchanged them for the more comfortable clothing. He could have put on jeans, he supposed, but he was losing that long-ago lord a day at a time, and the clothes served as a reminder of what he had once been—though some days, some years, he could not remember why it was that remembering what he had once been was so important. There was a knock on his door, and he hissed in irritation because he’d nearly succeeded in numbing himself to the imprisonment. Immortality was a curse because no matter how powerful you were, there was always someone more powerful. Someone to obey. Someone who stole what was yours and left you with the dregs of what you once had. Then they took that, too, and here he was in this prison while his gut ached with need and his body missed magic like meat missed salt. Without magic, he had no savor. The knock sounded again. He’d pissed off whoever it was because his whole prison shook with a noise that hurt his ears and his heart. Wonderful. One of the Powers had come to call upon him. He almost didn’t answer—what more could they do to him than they had already
