TA Moore

A Wolf Winter Novel The world ends not with a bang, but with a downpour. Tornadoes spin through the heart of London, New York cooks in a heat wave that melts tarmac, and Russia freezes under an ever-thickening layer of permafrost. People rally at first—organizing aid drops and evacuating populations—but the weather is only getting worse. In Durham, mild-mannered academic Danny Fennick has battened down to sit out the storm. He grew up in the Scottish Highlands, so he's seen harsh winters before. Besides, he has an advantage. He's a werewolf. Or, to be precise, a weredog. Less impressive, but still useful. Except the other werewolves don't believe this is any ordinary winter, and they're coming down over the Wall to mark their new territory. Including Danny's ex, Jack—the Crown Prince Pup of the Numitor's pack—and the prince's brother, who wants to kill him. A wolf winter isn't white. It's red as blood.

Home. For Jack and Gregor, the exiled Wolf Princes of the Scottish pack, it's someplace they never wanted to leave. For Danny, who fled as soon as he could, it's someplace he never planned to return. As for Nick, pathologist and carrion bird, he has nowhere else to be. It offers only one thing--the Old Man's help in putting down the bloody-handed treachery from the prophets who dogged them all the way from Durham. The twins' father is many things, not all of them kind, but not even the prophets would cross him. But when they finally arrive home, they find the Old Man gone and the prophets' puppet installed in his place. Outnumbered, bereaved, and haunted by old mistakes, the four of them must discover the prophet Rose's plan before it's too late. As the stakes rise and the cold settles into their bones, they find that the old fairy tales hide horrors under their pretty words. In the Highlands, Fenrir has stirred, and he's hungry. The prophets have always said that a Wolf Winter is red as blood--but they never said whose.