#OctoberFrights Blog Hop - Poppy by Clarissa Johal #paranormal #giveaway

Welcome to 2016 October Frights Blog Hop! 
You're in the right place, so pour yourself a cup of coffee, and read on...

Today, I'm treating you to an exclusive excerpt from my latest paranormal release, Poppy. 
If it strikes your fancy, the Rafflecopter to win a signed paperback (or ecopy -ePub, mobi, PDF- if you'd prefer) & a Starbucks $10 gift card is at the end. 
*INTERNATIONAL PRIZE PACKAGE: EBOOK & STARBUCKS EGIFTCARD
Winner will be announced on October 16th

Enjoy! 

Book Details:

Genre: Paranormal

Author: Clarissa Johal

Editor: Kathryn Galan

Publisher: Faeriemoon Press

Number of Pages: 264

*Standalone novel*

About Poppy:

A red-headed, pink-loving mortician who speaks to the dead. A moody, unsociable funeral director.

Poppy and Dante from Struck are back.

Something is lingering around Skyview Funeral Home—and it's stealing souls of the dead. With Dante in tow, Poppy is determined to put a stop to it.

Can she protect those who are trying to cross over, or will her soul be next?

Excerpt: 

The spirit of Mr. Santiago had moved on, much to her relief. She pulled the sheet and surveyed the body. “I guess it’s just you and me. Hope you didn’t have any Monday night plans.” She pulled a small sage bundle from her handbag. “I know I didn’t.”

Poppy lit the sage and let it burn, filling the embalming room with hazy smoke. The sweet scented smoke hung in the air. Working quickly as she could, she stayed alert for anything out of the ordinary. The only sound and movement in the room was the background noise of her embalming machine. After a while, she let her guard down.

She opened the bag of clothes the family had sent. “Suit, fedora, tie. You’re going to look quite dapper after I get you dressed.” Poppy noted the feather on the fedora was broken. Using a dab of skin glue, she fixed the broken quill as best as she could. She shaved his face, did his makeup and hair, and got him dressed. Placing the fedora on his head, she stood back and surveyed her work with satisfaction.

“I think you would approve, Mr. Santiago. Hopefully, your family will, too.”

Only one thing left to do, she thought. And preferably before it gets dark.

The sinking sun cast a red-gold light over the Victorian. Poppy ran out to her car and opened the trunk. The Mason jar she’d brought with her was full of sea salt. She gave it a little shake. Half buried, the locket glimmered in the fading light. She shivered as a chilly breeze cut through her blouse. Once I get this stored away, I’m going to go home and take a long hot bath.

Remembering the cellar key, she ran back inside and rummaged through Dante’s desk until she found the key ring. Exiting his office, she jumped as something grated under her feet. The sound continued down the hall, almost as if someone were running a shovel under the floor.

This is the only key to the root cellar, she thought, perplexed. The grating sounded in the foyer and circled back toward her. Running along the floor, it stopped right at her feet.

“Hello?” She pounded her foot on the floor and waited for a response. The funeral home was silent. “Gladys?” Her question was answered by three raps against the floor. Relieved the spirit had finally decided to come out of hiding, Poppy ran outside to meet her.

The distant sound of crows echoed across the fields. She slipped the key into the lock and pushed the wooden door open with a single shove.

The root cellar was a small space with a low ceiling. At one point, it probably smelled of apples and potatoes, but now, there was nothing but the scent of lawn mower gas, dirt, and cold stone. Poppy reached into the darkness, searching for the light bulb string. Her fingers connected, and she pulled it on with a click.

“Gladys?”

Weak light illuminated the usual garden-equipment clutter. Rakes and shovels were piled against a stone wall. Several cans of gasoline sat next to an old lawn mower. Bags of fertilizer and garden fungicide sat beside them. Gladys was nowhere in sight.

A rustle sounded from a darkened corner. Fully expecting to see a rat or trapped bird, she held the bulb in such a way to throw light on it. The door slammed shut behind her.

“Geez!” Poppy lost her grip on the light. The swinging bulb cast rising and falling shadows on the walls. She made a move to push the door open when the lightbulb suddenly shattered, leaving her in darkness.

“Gladys?” Poppy kicked herself for not waiting until morning, when Dante could have accompanied her. The grating sound started up from the corner of the room. It ran slowly along the ground until it stopped in front of her. That’s not Gladys. You walked right into this one.

She clutched the jar to her chest, her heart thumping. “I have the locket, if that’s what you want.”

The answering silence lay across the cellar like a shroud.

“I’ll make you a deal. You leave my dead alone, and I’ll leave the locket right here.” Her voice sounded against the close confines. “Good luck with the sea salt, if that matters.” Poppy inwardly cringed as she felt a trickle of blood from her nose. Dammit. She attempted to put up her barriers, but it was too late.

A heaviness descended upon her shoulders like a mantle. Something lashed out and scratched the skin of her throat.

___________________

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Book Trailer: 

Clarissa Johal is the bestselling author of paranormal novels, Poppy, The Island, Voices, Struck and Between. When she’s not listening to the ghosts in her head, she’s dancing, taking pictures of gargoyles, or swinging from a trapeze. She shares her life with her husband, two daughters, and every stray animal that darkens their doorstep. 

Find Clarissa Online:

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