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No rest for the wickedor the cursed SLATE I didnt mean to steal the Bloodstone from the De Morels crypt Scratch that I did mean to steal it Until I realized it was a cursemagnet that only comes off if I along with a jolly trio successfully defeat four curses If any of us fail Im dead Ive never been a glass halfempty sort of person but my glass looks in dire need of a refill right about now The only highlight of this wicked treasure hunt feisty entitled Cadence de Morel CADENCE I was raised on tales of magic in a small town reputed to be the birthplace of French witchcraft Did I believe all the stories I heard Absolutely not I mean if magic existed Maman wouldnt have died and Papa wouldnt be stuck in a wheelchair right Wrong The night Slate Ardoin waltzes into my life wearing a ring he stole from my mothers grave I call him a monster But then I meet real ones and Slate wellhe becomes something else to me Something frustrating to live with but impossible to live without Something I will fight for no matter the cost Warning profuse cursing and not just the magical kind