It is a well-known fact that I adore Beauty and the Beast retellings, so it's about damn time I reviewed this. It is not only the best retelling I have ever read, it is among my top five favorite books of all time. I can't even tell you how beautiful, fantastic, magical this story is. It truly has everything. It is a long story; don't be afraid of the length. It will fly by as you're immersed in it, and I, for one, wish it were longer. Also, the "Beast" is a long red-haired Irish dude with half his face kinda paralyzed and so in my mind I'm imagining the other half to look like this. 
 HHHHHHHHNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGG 
 I don't have to summarize Beauty and the Beast to you. This book is about a lovely girl, named Caitrin. An orphan. I know, an orphan. It sounds cliche; i assure you it is not. It is about pain, suffering; mental and physical abuse. A girl whose beauty is used to shame and abuse her into submission. 
 Ita spoke in my head, her voice a derisory whisper: See the way men look at you? You're made to be a whore, Caitrin. Be thankful Cillian wants to wed you.Without him you'd be headed down a path to ruin. 
 There is no explicit violence in this book, but rest assured that its ghost is very much alive in our protagonist's mind and defines who she is. 
 The bruises on my skin--blue, black, yellow, an angry patchwork--would fade. There were other hurts, deeper ones, that would be harder to lose. You did it, Caitrin, I reminded myself. You got up and walked out. 
 Her escape is where our book begins. We are in a time long ago and far away, when the Norman conquests were taking place in Ireland. Caitrin is a girl on the run, terrified of being found. Penniless, with only the clothes on her back and the tool she carries with her; she has been well-trained by her father as a scribe. It is how she hopes to earn a living and escape her would-be captors. 
 She wanders into a strange place called Whistling Tors. A place whose nearby villagers regard with fear and superstition. A place with a fearful and cursed chieftain, whose neglect of his duties and cursed appearance makes him a reviled personage to his people. Caitrin hears that he might need a scribe. It may be the last place in the world she wants to be, but it may also be safe refuge, and really, she has no choice. 
 The rumors about Whistling Tors are not false. If anything, they were grossly underexaggerated. The woods is filled with ghostly spectres who haunt your every step. 
 "Oh God, oh God!" someone screamed, as behind the rider a swirling mass flowed out from under the trees around the courtyard, not mist, not smoke, but something full of gaping mouths and clutching hands, something with a hundred shrieking, moaning voices and a hundred creeping, pattering feet. 
 The Beast is a young chieftain named Anluan, who is tortured by his fate, something through no fault of his. The romance is such a slow burn, and it is a joy to watch friendship and love blossom between them. Romance is there, but I assure you it is subtle and believable. 
 "I hardly know what to say." Anluan spoke with some awkwardness, as if he thought his words might offend me. "Your kinsman was right when he called me a cripple. I cannot ride, I cannot run, I cannot lead an army into battle. Not an army made up of earthly warriors of Magnus's kind, anyway. But this force I can command. On Whistling Tor, the host is obedient to my will. While you stay here, I can keep you safe. I hope you will stay, Caitrin, now that you know the truth. We want you here. We need you." 
 Love and lust are written beautifully. 
 There is a great mystery to be solved, a mystery that holds the key to freedom for Anluan and his living retainers, as well as the spectral ones, who are not merely malevolent spirits. 
 When Anluan had brought them rushing to my aid they had screamed, wailed, assaulted the ears. Now they were utterly silent. Not creatures of ancient legend; not devils or demons. All the same, my skin prickled as I looked at them: here a woman carrying an injured child, there an old man with a heavy bag over his shoulder, his back bent, his limbs shaking; under an oak, a younger man whose fingers clutched feverishly onto an amulet strung around his neck. There were warriors and priests here, little girls and old women. The more I gazed at them, turning to look on all sides, the more of them appeared, until the forest was full of them. Ghosts? Spirits? 
 There are no magical wardrobes and candlesticks here. There is, however, a giant ghostly hound, a spectral monk, creatures from beyond time, and more dark magic than you can shake a stick at. This book has everything, and I truly come to love every single character in the book, living or dead. 
 The elements of Beauty and the Beast are there; the rose, in this case a rare flower called Heart's Blood, and the magic mirror, in this instance much more sinister than the original. They are interwoven into the tale so well that it hardly feels like a retelling at all; there is nothing forced about it. The characterization and development is amazing, and the real-world conflicts are interspersed with the magical, making this such a spectacular read. It is a story of hope. This is quite likely the best retelling of all time and I beg you to read it. 
 Read more reviews at The Alliterates