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Showing posts with label dark fantasy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dark fantasy. Show all posts
Thursday, November 29, 2018
Happy Holiday #Book #SALE - #awardwinning #paranormal #darkfantasy #99cents #bestseller
Happy reading!
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Monday, October 1, 2018
Friday, July 6, 2018
Whispers in the Wood by Clarissa Johal #paranormal #darkfantasy #newrelease
Book Details:
Title: Whispers in the Wood
Genre: Paranormal Dark Fantasy
Author: Clarissa Johal
Editor: Frank Moore
Publisher: Faeriemoon Press
ISBN-13: 9781721036677
ISBN-10: 1721036679
ASIN: B07F9TBTNS
About Whispers in the Wood:
It all began with an acorn.
There are some places you shouldn’t disturb, places where history lingers. When Rowan travels to England, she finds a remote village, hidden in the shadow of an ancient forest. Vague warnings from the local people aren’t enough to stop her from venturing into the trees, or from picking up a single acorn. It seemed a simple action. But when a stranger emerges from the forest claiming the acorn belongs to him, Rowan finds herself pulled into something both centuries old and deadly.
Excerpt from Whispers in the Wood:
The standing stone reflected the moonlight like a beacon. The churchyard beyond it appeared empty, its gravestones pointing like accusing fingers towards the sky. The silence was oppressive and she resisted the urge to whistle. She stole up the steps to the church itself, hoping the teens would be inside.
Pressing her ear against the door, she breathed the pungent scent of burnt wood. Hesitant, Rowan tried the handle. The door gave way and opened with a long, drawn-out creak.
A giggle sounded behind her.
Whipping around, her gaze swept the darkness. The sound was coming from the graveyard itself. A shiver trailed down her spine like icy fingers. “Hello?”
A low whisper drifted with the breeze, followed by another giggle.
“Fiona? Will? Jennifer, Jonathan? C’mon, you guys. Not funny.” She waited for the teens to show themselves. “I’m not going with you to the forest, by the way. I don’t think you should go either.” She walked to where the sound came from and steeled herself for a ‘gotcha’ moment.
Expecting to see the teens hiding behind a gravestone, she was surprised instead by scattered flowers, left like offerings. She picked one up and twirled it in her fingers. The flower’s petals reflected alabaster in the moonlight like finger bones. Freshly picked, the scent of the plucked stem was still strong. Rowan began to toss it aside when she was hit with an icy gust of wind. Her vision clouded and she felt a jarring shift in her surroundings.
She kicked up debris as her feet pounded the forest floor. The trees were a wild blur, as were the smells. The strong scent of greenery mixed with the scent of blood. Her blood. Heart pounding, she saw a bright spot in the distance. Escape. The bright spot grew larger and larger as she tore through the overgrowth towards it. Suddenly, she was jerked off her feet and dragged backward. A scream ripped her throat and everything went black. A sharp pain cut through her spine. Unable to move her arms and legs, she tried to take a breath. Panic welled in her throat like bile.
* * * *
Buy Links:
Available via Kindle Unlimited
About the Author:
Clarissa Johal is the bestselling author of paranormal novels, Whispers in the Wood, 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:
Sunday, January 21, 2018
New Cover & #Sale - Struck by Clarissa Johal #paranormal #darkfantasy #KindleUnlimited #99cents
Book Details:
Genre: Paranormal
Author: Clarissa Johal
Editor: Samantha Ettinger
Publisher: Faeriemoon Press
Number of Pages: 228
About Struck:
Caught a terrible storm, Gwynneth is struck by lightning. She wakes in the hospital with a vague memory of a mysterious stranger.
Following her release, the stranger visits her at will and offers Gwynneth a gift—one that will stay the hands of death. She is uncertain whether Julian is a savior or something sinister... for as he shares more of this gift, his price becomes deadly.
Excerpt:
She stared into his pale eyes, the color of storm clouds. A scream welled up in her throat. He pushed her against the wall and shook his head in a warning.
“Do not scream.”
His voice was low and soothing. She nodded quickly with every intention of screaming her lungs out as soon as he removed his hand.
“Do not scream,” he repeated.
Gwynneth could hear her breath heavy against his hand. He wore finely made black leather gloves. Why would he be wearing gloves inside? She thought frantically. It’s not cold enough to wear gloves. Dressed in black from top to bottom, except for a white, high-collared dress shirt, he looked archaic. She tried to match him with a time period. Mid-eighteenth century? Even his demeanor was aristocratic and proud. Small silver buttons ran the length of his jacket. They pressed sharply against her thin hospital gown.
“Do you trust me?” He studied her intently and removed his hand.
“You were there when I got hit,” she whispered.
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you bring me to the hospital? You left me at the funeral home.”
“I had no transportation. I left you where you would be found.”
“Why didn’t you stay with me?”
“I have my reasons. I am here now.”
Gwynneth paused. “Thank you for saving me.”
“I wish something in return.”
“I-I don’t have anything.” She flinched as she felt a small tug from deep inside. It was as if probing fingers were searching for something. Fear bloomed within her. The probing stopped.
“Are you saying no?” His voice held an edge.
“I don’t understand.”
“Are…you… saying…no?”
Confused, she nodded slightly. Suddenly, Julian grabbed her around the shoulders, and they fell into blackness. Something powerful swirled around them. Something malevolent. She panicked and clung to him. There was pressure on all sides of her, as if the air was folding and becoming heavier and heavier. And then, everything stopped.
“Open your eyes, Gwynneth,” he whispered.
They were in a Victorian house. A fire burned in the fireplace. The scent from the burning wood filled the air. Muted light reflected off elaborate, but worn, wallpaper and furniture. A half-eaten biscuit lay on a delicate-looking plate next to an empty teacup resting on its side.
Julian took her by the hand and led her up a winding staircase. She studied him from behind. Tall and lean, though quite broad-shouldered, long white hair draped his back like silk. His form-fitting, tailored jacket hit mid-thigh. Matching black pants were tucked into knee-high leather boots. He walked with catlike grace, his boots making light sounds on the stairs.
Otherworldly, her thoughts whispered. Still in her hospital gown, Gwynneth felt vulnerable and naked. Her bare feet pressed against the wooden floor. Grit stuck to her toes.
He led her down a hallway lit by fluted glass light fixtures. At the end of the hallway was a door.
Never taking his eyes off hers, Julian opened it.
Dark figures scattered like exploding glass. Red…so much red. There was blood everywhere. Blood-soaked sheets, pillows; blood pooled onto the wooden floor and soaked into an ornate carpet.
A woman lay across the bed. She wore an old-fashioned white nightgown, which was plastered to her body. Her long dark hair spilled across the sheets. Gaping wounds covered her chest. A knife lay on the floor. The windows were open, and white curtains fluttered in the evening breeze.
The creatures writhed in the corners as light from the hallway shattered their darkness.
A strangled sound escaped Gwynneth’s throat. Julian wrapped his arms around her and urged her forward. The figures that had fled into the corners seeped into the scene once more.
“They come for her. I want you to watch.”
Gwynneth shook violently. He gripped her tighter.
The figures swarmed over the dead woman’s body. They snaked up her torso, across her face, and into her hair. Gwynneth felt their need, burning and relentless.
“Oh my God, she’s not dead,” she moaned. Her vision went black.
Indie Book of the Day Award
Second Place - Preditors and Editors Readers Poll 2014
Struck is 99 cents via Amazon!
YouTube Book Trailer
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Monday, March 20, 2017
Happy Spring Equinox! #amwriting
I'm sharing baby bunnies with you today. It seems like a fitting thing to do on the Spring Equinox! In 2011, I had the pleasure of helping to rehabilitate these guys - they were released back into the wild when they got big enough. (Mama bunny had unfortunately met with an accident or become prey.) Every time I go for a run in the nature park my bunnies were released, I think of them. I hope they grew up and had baby bunnies of their own.
On the writing front, I've been spending a lot of time in my local forest to immerse myself in my character's world. You've heard of method actors? I'm what you'd call a method author. I like to experience what my characters would experience. Whispers in the Wood is coming along in fits and starts, largely due to the fact that I've been unable to get away for a writing retreat. Hopefully, that will happen soon. The book will be worth the wait, so please stay tuned! I'll leave you with the blurb, in case you missed it...
A paranormal dark fantasy
It all began with an acorn.
There are some places you shouldn’t disturb, places where history lingers. When Rowan travels to England, she finds a remote village, hidden in the shadow of an ancient forest. Vague warnings from the local people aren’t enough to stop her from venturing into the trees, or from picking up a single acorn. It seemed a simple action. But when a stranger emerges from the forest claiming the acorn belongs to him, Rowan finds herself pulled into something both centuries old, and deadly.
Sunday, October 16, 2016
#OctoberFrights Blog Hop - Rafflecopter Prize Package Winners!
A HUGE thank you to everyone who stopped by to enter one/all of my
2016 October Frights Blog Hop contests.
It was really cool to read your Random Acts of Kindness 
The winners of my five prize packages have been notified. Check your emails!
Linda M.
Bonnie J.
Jackie M.
Susan V.
Shelley H.
Linda M.
Bonnie J.
Jackie M.
Susan V.
Shelley H.
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Stay up-to-date on my new releases & giveaways.
If my books intrigued you, you can pick up your copy right here:
Have a safe and Happy Halloween!
Saturday, October 15, 2016
#OctoberFrights Blog Hop - LAST Day! #paranormal #darkfantasy #giveaway
Welcome to the 2016 October Frights Blog Hop!
Today is the LAST day!
If you haven't entered my contests - now's your chance.
Winner of my Rafflecopter Contests will be announced on October 16th
Giveaway #1 - a signed copy of Poppy & a Starbucks $10 gift card
Giveaway #3 - an ecopy of Voices & a Starbucks $10 egiftcard
Giveaway #4 - signed paperback of The Island & a Starbucks $10 gift card
Giveaway #5 - Release day ecopy of Whispers in the Wood (coming 2017) & a Starbucks gift card
Giveaway #5 - Release day ecopy of Whispers in the Wood (coming 2017) & a Starbucks gift card
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:
Keep hopping!
Hosted by Clarissa JohalFriday, October 14, 2016
#OctoberFrights Blog Hop - Whispers in the Wood by Clarissa Johal #paranormal #darkfantasy #giveaway
Welcome to the 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 (unedited) sneak-peek
of my paranormal dark fantasy, Whispers in the Wood.
Coming in 2017
If it strikes your fancy, the Rafflecopter to win a RELEASE DAY ecopy (ePub, mobi, PDF) & a Starbucks $10 gift card is at the end.
*INTERNATIONAL PRIZE PACKAGE: EBOOK & STARBUCKS EGIFTCARD
Winner will be announced on October 16th
Enjoy!
of my paranormal dark fantasy, Whispers in the Wood.
Coming in 2017
If it strikes your fancy, the Rafflecopter to win a RELEASE DAY ecopy (ePub, mobi, PDF) & a Starbucks $10 gift card is at the end.
*INTERNATIONAL PRIZE PACKAGE: EBOOK & STARBUCKS EGIFTCARD
Winner will be announced on October 16th
Enjoy!
There are some places you shouldn’t disturb, places where history lingers. When Rowan travels to England, she finds a remote village, hidden in the shadow of an ancient forest. Vague warnings from the local people aren’t enough to stop her from venturing into the trees, or from picking up a single acorn. It seemed a simple action. But when a stranger emerges from the forest claiming the acorn belongs to him, Rowan finds herself pulled into something both centuries old, and deadly.
Excerpt:
*INTERNATIONAL PRIZE PACKAGE:
EBOOK & STARBUCKS EGIFTCARD
Stars dotted an otherwise inky sky. A full moon shone overhead, surrounded by a luminous fairy ring. She ran down the footpath towards the woods and realized she’d left her jacket behind. In spite of that, Rowan didn’t feel cold. She skirted the edge of the trees, eyeing the orange glow from the campfire, burning like a beacon.
Rowan picked her way quietly through the underbrush. The moonlight was quickly swallowed by trees. The deeper, wild scent of forest soon overpowered the grassy scent of pasture. Forest animals darted from her path, startled from their nocturnal activities. A lick of flame ahead split the murky darkness. She soon came upon a small clearing.
A haze lay over the area like a blanket, though there was no scent of wood smoke. Burning wood crackled from an unattended campfire. Off to the side, an immense oak tree overlooked the glade like a sentinel. Scattered saplings grew at it’s base.
Rowan's heart thumped madly in her chest. The fire's fevered intensity beckoned to her and she approached it. She held out her hands.
"No heat," she murmured. "What the hell?" Firelight danced across her skin.
"No heat," she murmured. "What the hell?" Firelight danced across her skin.
Rowan.
She whipped around, searching the forest with her gaze. “Hello?”
Silence. The forest was still.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
A small whisper came from behind the oak tree. Two green spots flashed within the darkness. Slowly, Firth emerged from shadows. The fervent green of his eyes caught the firelight. “We meet again.”
She let out a shaky breath. “You scared the crap out of me.”
"Apologies." He stepped forward with a half-bow, his shoulder-length hair glowing a red-gold.
“Are you allowed to camp here?”
“These are my woods.” His voice held a slight edge.
“Your woods?” Rowan kept her eyes fastened upon him as he circled her.
“My. Woods.”
“What did you do to my tattoo yesterday?”
A smile touched his lips. “What do you mean?”
“It’s healed. Look at it.” She pushed up the short sleeve of her T-shirt. “It was still a red gash when we met at the churchyard. You brushed against it when I passed you, and now it’s healed.”
“And you feel I did this, do you?”
She paused, unsure. “Okay, I have another question, then. Have seen a young man with dark hair? He went missing last December.”
"You are a curious little nettle. Why would you ask such a thing?”
“Did you have anything to do with his disappearance?”
“I repeat, why would you ask such a thing?”
“No reason.” Rowan backed away, ready to flee.
“She’s a smart lassie, is what she is,” he said softly. “This doesn’t concern you. Unless you choose it to.”
“Grace is worried sick about her son. Is he…around?”
“He is around.”
Her stomach did a flip-flop. “Can I see him?”
"Perhaps." Firth narrowed his eyes. “Why are you frightened, little nettle?”
“I’m not frightened,” she lied as she backed away.
“Do you wish to see him, or not?”
A stab of fear hit the pit of her stomach. This was a bad idea. “Forget it—”
Moving with preternatural speed, Firth grabbed her wrist and dragged her to the oak tree. He crushed her against its trunk. Gasping with fear, an incongruous scent invaded her senses. It wasn’t the scent of an oak tree, it was the scent of aftershave.
And it was coming from under the bark.
_____________
Coming in 2017
*INTERNATIONAL PRIZE PACKAGE:
EBOOK & STARBUCKS EGIFTCARD
Don't forget to enter my other October Frights Giveaways
Giveaway #1 - a signed copy of Poppy & a Starbucks $10 gift card
Giveaway #2 - Struck is FREE from October 10-14th.
Giveaway is for a $10 Starbucks gift card
Giveaway #3 - an ecopy of Voices & a Starbucks $10 egiftcard
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:
Friday, September 23, 2016
Frightening Friday - Whispers in the Wood #excerpt #paranormal #darkfantasy
It’s been quite a summer. Thank you for all the emails and kind words, I appreciated them more than you know. I write for you.
On the home front - my teens both started school this week. I’ve
had to throw lots of chocolate their way, because school’s always an adjustment
after a lazy summer – for everyone! It looks to be a good year, though.
On writing - my goal is to finish Whispers in the Wood by the beginning of next year. For those who've
read Poppy, Whispers in the Wood focuses
on the side-character of Rowan. Find
out how Rowan received her “gift” in my paranormal dark fantasy.
For now, I’ll leave you with my opening chapter. I rarely let
readers take a peek at my work in progress, but I asked my characters for permission. All but one said it was okay.
If I go missing, blame Firth.
…and check the trees.
Chapter One
“We share the upstairs bathroom. There is no en suite. This
isn’t a fancy London B and B."
"No problem, Grace," Rowan said with a sigh. "I was just asking."
"That's Mrs. Lyon." The stout woman gave her a once-over before continuing up the stairs. The hem of her dress scraped against her knee socks. "Please clean the tub after you bathe. Towels are on the shelf next to the sink. Only use
one, as I’m not a maid. I lock the front door at ten pm. The back door will be locked as
well, so mind your time when you’re out.”
“Do I get a key?”
“No.” She turned with a frown. “The doors are unlocked during the day. You’re expected in by
ten pm. It’s a small cottage, and I don’t take kindly to be woken at all
hours.”
Rowan shouldered her backpack wearily. “Okay.”
“That door is to remain closed at all times. The room is
off-limits.” She stopped at the end of the hall and opened another door. “This is your room. It’s over
the kitchen, so it should stay reasonably warm. Extra blankets are in the
storage chest at the foot of the bed.”
The room had a slight musty smell
to it. A single bed, topped with a well-worn, quilt took up most of the space. An
old, wooden storage chest filled the rest. A small window faced rolling, green hills that ended at a thick forest.
“If you wish to hike, there’s a
footpath that leads to the village. Don’t bother the sheep. And leave your
hiking boots in the mudroom so as not to track.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Rowan saluted her.
“Are you being cheeky?”
She opened her mouth to answer and
was immediately cut off.
“I’m up at four-thirty am.
Breakfast is at six am. If you want breakfast later than that, you’ll have to
walk to the village.”
“Six is fine—”
“No loud music, drinking or
smoking." Grace pointed an accusing finger at her. "And no guests or funny business. There’s a pub in the village for
socializing. This is my home, not a party house."
"I wasn't planning any funny business—"
"You paid for three nights. I’ll expect
you out by noon on Monday. If you decide to stay longer, you’ll have to pay for
another three nights by three pm on Sunday. I don’t do one-night lets.”
“I’m flying back to California on
Thursday—”
“And no drugs.”
“I don’t do—”
“Welcome to Sheep’s Crossing.”
Without further ado, the woman turned and shut the door behind her.
“And what a warm welcome it is.” Rowan tossed her backpack on the floor.
Backpacking across England had been everything she’d hoped for, up until a couple of days ago. She’d been hiking along a deserted stretch of road when a car
stopped to ask for directions. Before she knew what was happening, the two men made a grab for her backpack and there had been a struggle. She’d delivered a good kick to one of them, but the other had pulled a knife. She’d
woken in the middle of nowhere with a lump on the back of her head, a deep cut across her shoulder, and the contents of her backpack strewn across the surrounding field. Out of habit, she’d kept some cash in her hiking boots, but her cell
phone and the rest of her money were gone.
For two days, she’d hiked
across miles of rolling lowlands, but
the English weather had not been cooperating. It had rained non-stop and her
backpack and clothes were completely soaked through. Even her
skin felt water-logged. By the third night, Rowan was ready to give up she’d
find civilization, when she'd encountered a stranger who directed her to Grace’s.
The remote bed and breakfast was a godsend. And in spite of Grace's less-than-welcome attitude, she couldn’t
talk herself out of spending the money. One more night sleeping in the rainy
cold would have done her in.
I’ll file a police report
tomorrow, Rowan mused. After that, I’ll catch a bus back to Heathrow and it’s bye-bye England. She
gingerly touched the lump on the back of
her head.
“And I thought student life was rough.” She pulled off her wet boots and absently scratched at one of the many insect bites she'd acquired.
Rowan stood and peeked out the bedroom
window. The rain had finally stopped and the sounds of sheep echoed across the
hills. In the distance, a clump of thick forest was touched by the sun’s dying
rays. A chilly breeze slipped through the cracks of the window-frame. She gave the window a tug and latched it.
The shared bathroom boasted a large
claw foot tub with a shower attachment.
A sponge and plastic bottle of what she assumed was tub cleaner had been
placed next to the tub. Wooden planked floors were painted white, as were the walls. Over the sink, an accordion-style mirror
was affixed, it’s metal showing traces of rust.
Peeling off her wet clothing, she tossed her underthings in the tub. Rowan eyed her muddy jeans and sweatshirt as she waited for the tub to fill. There’s no way I'll be able to wash those and have them dry by morning. And the rest of my clothes are just as
disgusting.
"Maybe Grace will let me use her washing machine," she said aloud with mock-cheerfulness. "After a lovely breakfast in bed, and some warm and welcoming conversation, of course." She let out a snort.
Rowan stepped into the tub, and sank
into the hot water with a sigh. Scrubbing off several days of travel, she winced as the soap stung her shoulder. Her
namesake tattoo, one of a rowan tree, felt ruined. Sustaining the brunt of the knife attack, the tree's trunk was now split in half.
Red berries that scattered the tree's branches like ripe fruit, now resembled
dried blood drops. She rinsed the wound carefully, before settling back into the water.
Leaving school mid-quarter was probably a mistake, she reflected. She'd set the money aside for a summer backpacking trip, not for a
last-minute trip in the spring. Most of that money is gone now. Crap. Lately, her grades had slipped, she’d missed several days of work, and
she’d felt little joy spending time with her friends. She wasn’t running away,
Rowan told herself, she just needed some time to get her life together. So much
had happened in the past few months.
Finishing her bath, she stepped
from the tub. Rowan wiped the mirror and met her gaze. The dark circles under her eyes stood out against her pallid complexion.
No wonder Grace gave me the stink eye. I look like shit. She ruffled her short,
black hair. Her dark blue eyes reflected
the stress over the past few days, but at least she was clean. She wrapped
herself in a fluffy towel and gathered her clothes. I’ll wipe out the tub
later.
The door to the verboten room remained
closed, and she could hear Grace downstairs in the kitchen. In spite of the
woman’s stern warning, she was tempted to peek inside. You’re going to get
yourself kicked out. And don't think Grace wouldn't do it, either. She hurried down the hallway to her room and closed the door behind her.
Twilight was descending and Rowan
switched on the light next to her bed. Tossing her dirty clothes and towel on
the floor, she draped her washed underthings across the storage chest. She hunted in her backpack for something semi-dry to sleep in. After several moments, she gave up.
Rowan slid
naked between the clean, cotton sheets with an exhausted sigh. I’ll hike to the
village tomorrow morning. I’m sure they’ll have a laundromat and a store of some kind. I can stock up on cheap food, maybe I’ll explore a little, and... She was asleep before she finished the thought.
It seemed like seconds later when she woke with a start. It took
several moments to orientate herself. I'm not outside. I'm safe. She let out a breath of relief before snuggling into the covers again. Her vision focused on the curtains, waving
like beckoning hands. I don’t remember opening the window, though. She quickly got up to close
it.
Moonlight traced a path to the forest. Her gaze was pulled to a red-orange
glow within the trees. She leaned out the window
to get a better look, and a breeze hit her naked skin. Rowan shivered and pulled back. Feeling grateful she wasn’t the one camping
outside in the cold, she closed the window and latched it.
____________________________________________________
Intrigued? I hope so. Look for Whispers in the Wood, coming 2017 via Faeriemoon Press
____________________________________________________
Intrigued? I hope so. Look for Whispers in the Wood, coming 2017 via Faeriemoon Press
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