Playing Catch Up has really been helping me through my ever growing TBR list. I'd like to welcome all other blogs to participate too! If you do, be sure to post your links in the comments section. I'd love to see your Playing Catch Up Reviews, and I'm sure others would too!! *wink*
Genre: Adult Fiction (Paranormal Romance)
Date Published: August 7, 2007
Publisher: Berkley
In Cry Wolf, New York Times bestselling author Patricia Briggs started a new urban fantasy series set in the world of Mercy Thompson — but with rules of its own. Now, read "Alpha and Omega," the novella that inspired the new series, and see how it all began...
Anna Latham never knew werewolves existed, until the night she survived a violent attack... and became one herself. After three years at the bottom of the Chicago pack, she's learned to keep her head down and never, ever trust dominant males. But when she discovers wrongdoing in her pack, she has to go above her Alpha's head to ask for help.
Charles Cornick is the son — and enforcer — of the leader of the North American werewolves. Now his father has sent him to Chicago to clean up a problem there. Charles never expected to find Anna, a rare Omega wolf — and he certainly never expected to recognize her as his mate...
This novella was originally published in the anthology, On the Prowl.
Alpha & Omega is the prequel to Cry Wolf of the Alpha & Omega series by Patricia Briggs. It was originally written as a short story in On the Prowl along with three other short stories.This story showed how how Charles and Anna met. We get the gist of it in Cry Wolf, but this short story goes into more detail. Poor Anna. She was turned against her will, and she's been put through hell by the werewolves of her pack for three years, so she's scared and not quick to trust Charles when he shows up. I like how you can already see her strength and confidence starting to poke back through though. This girl is made of some tough stuff. And Charles? It seems he was pretty intense from the beginning. He has to be. He's his father's enforcer. The bond between the two characters is pretty instantaneous. There's something different about Anna, and Charles has helped her learn more about herself and werewolves in the short time they've known each other than she learned from the last three years of being a wolf in her current pack. I'm glad I picked this up. I read Cry Wolf and Hunting Ground years ago, before I was reviewing books. I forgot how much I enjoyed these characters until I finished Alpha & Omega. Now, I'm jonesing to re-read those books and the rest of the series. When I read them this time, I'll review them all as I go.
Charles hated flying. He especially hated flying when someone else was piloting. He'd flown himself to Salt Lake, but landing his small jet in Chicago could have alerted his quarry -- and he preferred to take Leo by surprise. Besides, after they'd closed Meig's Field, he'd quit flying himself into Chicago. There was too much trffic at O'Hare and Midway.
He hated big cities. There were so many smells that they clogged his nose, so much noise that he caught bits of a hundred different conversations without trying -- but could miss entirely the sound of someone sneaking up behind him. Someone had bumped by him on the walkway tunnel as he left the plane, and he had to work to keep from bumping back, harder. Flying into O'Hare in the middle of the night had at least avoided the largest crowds, but there were still too many people around for his comfort.
He hated cell phones, too. He'd turned his on when the plane had landed and his father called. Now instead of going to the car rental desk and then to his hotel, he was going to have to locate some woman and stay with her so that Leo or his other wolves didn't kill her. All he had was a first name -- Bran hadn't seen fit to give him a description of her.
He stopped outside the security gates and let his gaze drift where it would, hoping instincts would find the woman. He could smell another werewolf, but the ventilation in the airport defeated his ability to pinpoint the scent. His gaze caught first on a young girl with an Irish-pale complexion, whiskey-colored curly hair, and the defeated look of someone who was beaten on a regular basis. She looked tired, cold, and far too thin. It made him angry to see it, and he was already too angry to be safe, so he forced his gaze away.
There was a woman dressed in a business suit that echoed the warm chocolate of her skin. She didn't look quite like an Anna, but she carried herself in such a way that he could see her defying her Alpha to call the Marrok. She was obviously looking for someone. He almost started forward, but then her face changed as she found the person she was looking for -- and it was not him.
He started a second sweep of the airport when a small hesitant voice from just to his left said, “Sir, have you just come from Montana?”
It was the whiskey-haired girl. She must have approached him while he'd been looking elsewhere -- something she wouldn't have been able to do if he weren't standing in the middle of a freaking airport.
At least he didn't have to look for his father's contact anymore. With her this close, not even the artificial air currents could hide that she was a werewolf. But it wasn't his nose alone that told him that she was something far rarer.
At first he thought she was submissive. Most werewolves were more or less dominant. Gentler natured people weren't usually cussed enough to survive the brutal transformation from human to werewolf. Which meant that submissive werewolves were few and far between.
Then he realized that the sudden change in his anger and the irrational desire to protect her from the crowds streaming past were indications of something else. She Wsn't a submissive, either, though many might mistake her for that: She was an Omega.
Right then he knew that he was going to kill whoever had given her that bruised look.
He hated big cities. There were so many smells that they clogged his nose, so much noise that he caught bits of a hundred different conversations without trying -- but could miss entirely the sound of someone sneaking up behind him. Someone had bumped by him on the walkway tunnel as he left the plane, and he had to work to keep from bumping back, harder. Flying into O'Hare in the middle of the night had at least avoided the largest crowds, but there were still too many people around for his comfort.
He hated cell phones, too. He'd turned his on when the plane had landed and his father called. Now instead of going to the car rental desk and then to his hotel, he was going to have to locate some woman and stay with her so that Leo or his other wolves didn't kill her. All he had was a first name -- Bran hadn't seen fit to give him a description of her.
He stopped outside the security gates and let his gaze drift where it would, hoping instincts would find the woman. He could smell another werewolf, but the ventilation in the airport defeated his ability to pinpoint the scent. His gaze caught first on a young girl with an Irish-pale complexion, whiskey-colored curly hair, and the defeated look of someone who was beaten on a regular basis. She looked tired, cold, and far too thin. It made him angry to see it, and he was already too angry to be safe, so he forced his gaze away.
There was a woman dressed in a business suit that echoed the warm chocolate of her skin. She didn't look quite like an Anna, but she carried herself in such a way that he could see her defying her Alpha to call the Marrok. She was obviously looking for someone. He almost started forward, but then her face changed as she found the person she was looking for -- and it was not him.
He started a second sweep of the airport when a small hesitant voice from just to his left said, “Sir, have you just come from Montana?”
It was the whiskey-haired girl. She must have approached him while he'd been looking elsewhere -- something she wouldn't have been able to do if he weren't standing in the middle of a freaking airport.
At least he didn't have to look for his father's contact anymore. With her this close, not even the artificial air currents could hide that she was a werewolf. But it wasn't his nose alone that told him that she was something far rarer.
At first he thought she was submissive. Most werewolves were more or less dominant. Gentler natured people weren't usually cussed enough to survive the brutal transformation from human to werewolf. Which meant that submissive werewolves were few and far between.
Then he realized that the sudden change in his anger and the irrational desire to protect her from the crowds streaming past were indications of something else. She Wsn't a submissive, either, though many might mistake her for that: She was an Omega.
Right then he knew that he was going to kill whoever had given her that bruised look.
Patricia Briggs was born in Butte, Montana to a children’s librarian who passed on to her kids a love of reading and books. Patricia grew up reading fairy tales and books about horses, and later developed an interest in folklore and history. When she decided to write a book of her own, a fantasy book seemed a natural choice. Patricia graduated from Montana State University with degrees in history and German and she worked for a while as a substitute teacher. Currently, she lives in Montana with her husband, children and six horses and writes full-time, much to the delight of her fans.
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