Book Review
of Rest for the Wicked Hosted by Bewitching Book Tours
Rest for the Wicked
By Cate Dean
Book One The Claire Wiche Chronicles
Claire Wiche – an ordinary woman, running her Wicca shop in
an ordinary California beach town.
But Claire wasn’t always ordinary, and she isn’t quite human.
She hides a secret, and a past that she desperately wants to put behind her.
When that past explodes into her present, threatening the
people she loves, and the community that has offered her a place to finally belong,
Claire must become what she left behind in order to save them.
Author
Information:
Cate
Dean has been writing for, well, ever. She grew up losing herself in the wilds
of fantasy worlds, and has had some of her own adventures while tromping
through the UK, and a few other parts of the world. A lover of all things
supernatural, she infuses that love into her stories, giving them a unique
edge. When she’s not writing, she loves cooking, scaring herself silly in the
local cemeteries, and reading pretty much anything she can get her hands on.
Amazon
Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Cate-Dean/e/B0076ZQK1A
Cate
Dean. Rest For The Wicked - The Claire Wiche Chronicles Book 1 (Kindle
Locations 3054-3058). Can be purchased at: http://www.amazon.com/Rest-For-The-Wicked-Chronicles/dp/1475224710/ref=ntt_at_ep_dpt_3
Book Excerpt:
ONE
Claire guided her unhappy customer through her shop, one arm
around the hunched shoulders.
“You know I don’t
do love spells, Mildred.”
“But I know if he
could see me, really see me, he’d fall desperately in—”
“Would it be
real, if he’s under an enchantment?”
Mildred pouted,
not a pretty sight on an eighty year old woman.
“What happened to
the customer is always right?”
Biting her lip on
a smile, Claire walked her through the open door.
“Never been my
policy. And I have good reasons for that.” She rubbed the old woman’s arm, laid
her own enchantment over the discontent. “You go on home, now. I’ll phone you
when my new shipment of crystals shows up.”
Leaning against
the narrow porch post, Claire watched her toddle down the sidewalk, sunlight
bouncing off the thin silver poodle curls. The morning gloom had burned off
early, and it looked like the start of another beautiful day.
She crossed her
arms, cold despite the sweater she slipped on earlier. It took longer to warm
up lately, a fact she did her best to ignore.
“Are you cold
again, Claire? It’s got to be at least 80 in the store.”
Unless, of
course, a well-meaning friend shoved it in her face.
She turned
around, forced a smile.
“Is it, Annie? I
must have forgotten to turn it down this morning.”
“How could you
not notice? The candles are sweating.” Annie moved to her, caught one hand
before Claire could shove them in her pockets. “You’re like ice. Again.” She
looked down at Claire, concern in the warm brown eyes. “And you’re avoiding.
Again.”
With a sigh,
Claire squeezed her hand before easing out of it. The warmth in Annie’s fingers
made her skin tingle, yearn.
“Time to turn
that heat down before the candles become a puddle.”
Annie followed
her back inside, hovering while she adjusted the thermostat to a more
reasonable temperature. She would need a heavier sweater.
“Come on,” Annie
said, hands on her hips. “Give.”
Shaking her head,
Claire smiled, a real smile this time.
“Would I’m just
cold and tired do it for you?”
“Hardly.” Annie
stood in front of the counter, looking like a golden Amazon ready to do battle.
“But it’ll have to until I can get you drunk and pry the truth out of you.”
Laughter burst
out of Claire.
“I’d like to see
that.”
“Yeah, so would
I. If you actually touched the stuff.” She gave Claire a wicked smile. “I could
always slip you a mickey.”
“You could—if I
wasn’t able to smell it from across the room.”
“Slapped down again. Hey—what if we just
tried—”
“Not again. Never
again.” Claire still felt the residual agony from her one failed attempt at
social drinking.
“How do you do
that?” Those warm brown eyes narrowed as they studied her. “How do you always
know what I’m going to say?”
Claire reached up
and patted her cheek.
“I’m a witch,
sweetheart. It’s what I do.”
“Wait.” She
grabbed Claire’s hand, pushed her sleeve up to reveal the bandage that started
to peek out. “Another tattoo? What is it this time?”
Claire flushed.
The second reason she put on a sweater this morning.
“A triquetra.”
“More protection?
Jeez, Claire, the pentagram isn’t enough?”
“There is no such
thing as too much protection.” She pulled free and walked around the counter.
“And the subject is closed.”
“Okay—I can take
a hint.” Annie strode to the door, her long legs taking her through the small
shop in a few paces. She paused in the doorway. “Hey, Claire—I’m worried, and I
poke when I’m worried. I’ll leave it alone for now. But if you don’t get
better, I’ll do more than poke.”
“Annie.” She
stuck her head back in. “Don’t you even think about taking on Mildred’s love
spell.”
Color rushed into
her cheeks.
“I wasn’t—”
“I mean it. Last
time you nearly had your victim falling in love with her cat.”
“Never gonna let
me live that one down, are you?”
Claire smiled.
“Not if it keeps
you from trying again.”
Annie cursed
under her breath and stalked out.
Chuckling, Claire
made a mental note to put feelers out. Annie had just enough power to make her
dangerous.
Without warning
the pain stabbed her, a blade of ice in her gut.
Bracing her hands
on the counter, she fought to breathe, fought to keep herself upright. Shaking
so hard her rings clattered against the granite countertop, she gained enough
control to lower herself to the chair she recently added out of necessity.
“God above—” She
pressed both arms against her stomach, prayed for a slow morning. If she
believed God would actually listen to her, she’d ask the single question that
haunted her.
Is this how it feels to be dying?
***
Jack watched, helpless, as the beautiful creature tortured his
sister.
Not a woman—power
coiled around her, dark and ugly. It held him against the wall with invisible
chains, locked his voice in his throat. He tried to scream as she dragged the
knife across Katelyn’s bare stomach.
“She will feel
that, and not know why.” The creature trailed one hand across the shallow
wound, studying the blood that tipped her fingers. “You are so delicate, so
easily broken. Why would she chose such a life, when immortality is hers?”
Katelyn no longer
tugged at the ropes that tied her down to their heavy farmhouse table. She
stared up at the creature bent over her, the bright light of the chandelier
washing out her pale skin, moaning deep in her throat every time those narrow
hands touched her. Wearing only her faded jeans, she looked fragile,
defenseless.
Fight her, Kate—damn it, you have to fight
her until I can free—
“You would do best
to save your strength, Jack. I have an important task for you.”
He would kill
himself before he agreed to any bloody deed she had for him.
Katelyn recoiled,
gasping as the tip of the blade moved up her torso, stopping just below her
ribcage. Jack fought against the invisible restraints, his heart pounding so
hard he could barely hear the silken voice over it.
“Your life, your
soul will help me crack open a door. Soon I will be able to return home, in
triumph, with the most coveted prize in my grasp. Sweet Katelyn—I will owe you
all that I become.” The creature leaned in, pressed her lips to Katelyn’s
cheek. “Thank you. Now I will send her a message she will not soon forget.
Close your eyes, my innocent girl, and there will be no more pain.”
Jack’s scream
echoed in his head as the creature shoved the knife into Katelyn.
She arched off
the table, then collapsed, blood spilling down her skin, pooling on the scarred
wood. Jack slumped against the wall. He didn’t care what the devil did to him
now. He had just watched her kill the only important part of his life, and now
he wanted her to end him, before the pain kicked in. Before he started to feel
again.
She glided over
to him, a beautiful, deadly predator.
“Now, my darling
Jack.” He tried to jerk away from the hand caressing him. She simply smiled,
and the restraints tightened until he fought to breathe. After an endless
minute they loosened, just enough for him to take in a ragged breath. “I will
not tolerate defiance. Do we have an understanding?”
“I won’t—obey
you, bitch.” He sucked in another breath, bracing himself for the final blow.
“So just kill me.”
“Ah, Jack—your
bravado is refreshing. Most of your kind simply cower, or grovel. I do abhor
the groveling.”
She sounded like
someone out of an old novel. He searched for the term—then forgot everything
when she kissed him.
Heat scorched
him. He gasped against her lips, agony following the trail of fire straight to
the center of him.
“There.” She
whispered into his mouth, the hand on his chest like a branding iron. He
moaned, and she took it in, her lips claiming him. When she finally tore away,
he felt like part of him had been torn away with her. “You will find her for
me, Jack, and bring her to me. Hurt her if you must, and you most likely will
need to, in order to subdue her.”
He stared into
the jade green eyes, watched in wonder as they changed to a silvery blue. Color
bled out of her black hair, replaced by a rich brown. It grew, long and waving,
until it reached her waist. He followed the progress, the part of his mind not
trapped by her screaming in horror. Her touch silenced it.
Looking up, he
met the soft, silver blue eyes, the sculpted face framed by masses of hair that
seemed to engulf her delicate figure.
“Find me, Jack.
It is time for me to go home.”
Fingers slid over
his face, burning the image of her into his mind. He sank into the waiting
darkness, followed by a single word. A name.
Claire.
*** ***
Book Review:
I have to say I love Cate Dean. Her books are fresh, unexpected, and
unique. Rest For The Wicked - The
Claire Wiche Chronicles Book 1 is an individual take on the traditional witch
fantasy tale. Cate takes the fantasy
tale of witches and throws in a little Jinn (male genie) and some demons for
good measure. I was kept guessing right
to the very end.
I’m
really glad it’s Book 1 because that means we will be seeing more of these
characters, and I fell in love with them all.
Sometimes a book ends and you are satisfied with where the characters
are and what has happened to them, or you know enough to be able to picture how
the story ends. I sooooo didn’t get that
with this book. I want to know more,
much more.
I
give this book 4.5 out of 5 clouds, and anxiously await book 2 (see fingers
tapping anxiously on table as I wait).
Hi Mindy,
ReplyDeletethank you for having me here today!
~Cate