Moon Called (Mercy Thompson, #1)

by Patricia Briggs

Love thy enemies, it says in the scriptures. My foster mother always added, “At the very least, you will be polite to them.”

“Livin’s easier than dyin’ most times, Mercy girl,” he said kindly, repeating my foster father’s favorite saying. “Dance when the moon sings, and don’t cry about troubles that haven’t yet come.”

I have a whole spiel about how sick it is to carry around the instrument of Christ’s torture as a symbol for the Prince of Peace who taught us to love one another.

Humans, werewolves, or, apparently, vampires, it doesn’t matter; get more than three of them together and the jockeying for power begins.