"Wickedly They Dream, the sequel to Wickedly they Come did not disappoint. In fact, this story is darker, grittier and edgier. Jordan, the seventeen year old hero, has matured, out of necessity to protect her family." - Goodreads, Debbie
Published: February 20th, 2016
Evil never rests.
Jordan hoped her life would change after the fiery death of the devious sorcerer, Asa Trebane. She was wrong. The Black Order of the Cult is gearing up to select a new Supreme Leader, and Lucifer will be judge and jury.
The aberrant half-breeds scheme to impregnate an influential psychic to create a prodigious creature with exceptional powers to overthrow the Order. After her mom, Seeley, is possessed with an exponential curse, even the priests can’t find a solution to defeat the evil that is devouring her. Jordan is sick of delaying the inevitable and takes matters into her own hands. She must dig deeper into the Satanic realm and guardedly joins forces with an old friend and a wicked witch. Against Markus’s direct orders, Jordan offers herself, body and soul in a blood covenant to rescue Seeley from the clutches of hell.
Jordan knows her guardian angel will not leave her to fight alone. The formidable Markus always has her back. But a circumstance beyond her control drives her angel away. There’s trouble in paradise, and Markus has been reassigned.
Can Jordan defeat her internal and external demons to win him back? Or, this time, is he gone for good?
Slammed onto the altar with no regard for how much pain it caused her, Jordan’s arms and legs were spread and tied. She immediately searched for traces of awareness in her mom’s face. Even in the dimness, she spied a slash of blue peeping from Seeley’s half-closed lids. A cloaked person, appearing more like the grim reaper, breezed to the altar. The figure shoved Seeley aside and bowed over Jordan.
Shadowed by the figure, Jordan squinted, attempting to recognize him. Peering into the hooded black abyss, a bone-searing weakness overcame her, as if the thing was draining the life out of her body. Her heart revved to a phenomenal rate, like a Ferris wheel gone haywire. Then the pain came. She moaned. Her insides twisted like a rag mop. The grim reaper drew his cloaked arm over her. She recoiled as skeletal fingers splayed within inches of her heart.
About the author:
Cathrina resides in Western New York with her husband and five grown children. She has a penchant for too much coffee and chocolate. When not with her family or stationed at the computer, you’ll find her walking in the forest with her dog conjuring up a new tale.
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