In his debut novel, Sharp Teeth, Toby Barlow revisits an ages-old mythology, lycanthropy, and places it smack dab in the center of present day Los Angeles. This is no frilly urban fantasy, however: these werewolves are hip and modern, involved in gang warfare, organized crime, card playing for money, meth labs and no-kill animal shelters. What makes this book brilliant is that it's written in blank verse. You heard me. Sharp Teeth is a three-hundred page poem about bloodthirsty noir werewolves.

There is a lot going on in this novel, with at least three main story lines to keep track of. We meet Anthony first: a young man whose new career as a city dogcatcher begins because other dogcatchers begin mysteriously disappearing. Anthony doesn't much care for his new life, preferring the company of his quarry to that of his crass coworkers, until he meets a mysterious young woman in a bar. They connect immediately and eventually fall into real, warm, foolish love - which would be sweet except she's actually a werewolf who is trying to extricate herself from her pack. Werebitch and dogcatcher - surely Romeo and Juliet were no more star-crossed than that.

The pack young woman belongs to (we never learn her name) is run by alpha-dog Lark. He's been building his membership and honing some secret plan for years, the steps of which include getting a wolf on staff at the city pound as well as winning a bridge tournament. He's a pretty good guy for a werewolf, and when he is betrayed by a close friend and packmember, we feel badly for him. Retreating for a while to lick his wounds, Lark assumes his dog-form and lives comfortably with a lonely suburban woman, enjoying the ear-rubs and only changing back into man-form when she falls asleep after a bottle of wine (In the mornings, she is surprised that the tub of ice cream has been finished). Lark gathers a new pack and prepares to do battle with the rival pack that ousted him.