Thanks for stopping by! I’m happy to share book news from Clarissa Johal, a Dark Fantasy Bestselling author.
First up is Poppy. If you’ve seen my latest newsletter you’ve been introduced, as Poppy is a stand-alone spin-off of Struck.
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 from POPPY:
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.
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.
* * * *
Available via Kindle Unlimited
Barnes & Noble (paperback)
#1 Bestseller in Paranormal Occult
“Exploring a remote island can sometimes get you into trouble.
Especially when you stumble upon a cave and awaken two demons.”
About THE ISLAND:
Rumors and superstition.
That’s what Emma thinks about local gossip concerning her grandmother’s “cursed” private island. Emma journeys to the island to ready it for sale. While out exploring, she unearths a hidden cave which holds answers to the island’s dark past.
There may be more to the rumors than she thought.
Excerpt from THE ISLAND:
She was jarred awake by a cry. The vestiges of her nightmare dissipated as she orientated herself. Nightmare. Emma let out a sigh of relief. The cry sounded again. A distant sound, high and wailing. A baby’s cry. Her heart quickened. Good god, surely that can’t be a baby?
The fire in the stove had burned down, its embers lending a glow to the living room. Emma looked out the front window. The yard was still. She unlocked the door and opened it a crack. The cry drifted in with the breeze, faint but unmistakable. She ran through her mind what possible bird or animal could make the sound and came up with nothing. Characteristically, the island was blanketed with silence, almost like a vacuum. She stood, uncertain. After several minutes, the sound started again—the unmistakable high wail of a baby. She slipped on her boots and parka.
Fog trailed like cobwebs in her wake. The mournful cry threaded through the trees and came from the direction of the house ruins. In spite of a growing anxiety at what she’d find, she quickened her pace. If that is a baby, it’s still alive, and I need to get to it. If it’s not a baby… She blocked out the possibilities of what else it could be.
She approached the ruins and the sound stopped. Her heart raced. I know it was coming from here. The area held an unnatural heaviness. A branch cracked behind her and she turned with a start. Something dark darted through the trees.
“Hello?” Her voice sounded muffled in the fog. Emma’s attention snapped to the left. The dark figure ducked out of sight. She took one step backward, and fled.
Heavy footsteps echoed from behind as she plunged through the trees. They were catching up with her. Emma pushed herself to run faster, terrified she’d lose her footing on the uneven ground. The cabin loomed large, a haven in the thick fog. Stumbling across the cabin’s porch, she hurdled through the door and slammed it shut, locking it.
Emma rooted her feet to keep from running around in circles. Straining to hear, she was greeted with eerie silence. Several moments passed before the baby’s cry started again. And this time, it sounded from right outside the door.
THE ISLAND Buy Links:
Available via Kindle Unlimited
Bestseller in Paranormal Suspense
Sometimes the ghosts from your past…are real.
Moira claims to hear voices and is sent a psychiatric hospital. Her doctor is hesitant to treat her as schizophrenic, as she doesn’t show typical symptoms. As their sessions progress, she confesses there are two voices–and they aren’t voices in her head, but the voices of ghosts.
And one is determined to drag her into the afterlife with him.
Excerpt from VOICES:
“Moira?” Dr. Cassano called from the end of the hall.
She bolted for the stair exit, slipping behind the door. It closed with a quiet hiss and she leaned against it, listening. Moira’s heart pounded in her chest with a force that made her head hurt.
“He’s going to drag you back into his office,” Jack whispered in her ear.
She nudged his presence away with her shoulder.
“You’ll never make it down all those stairs before he catches up with you.”
They were on the concrete landing of the fourth floor. Jack was right. Dr. Cassano would reach her before she made it down the first flight of stairs.
“I don’t like it when you talk to him about me,” Isabella whined.
“Of course you don’t,” Jack soothed. “Moira was being mean, wasn’t she?”
Isabella nodded, looking injured.
“Let’s play a game,” he said.
“A game, a game!” She clapped her hands, her previous mood dissolved. “Let’s play tag!” She grabbed Moira’s arm with an icy hand. “If he tags you, you’ll be it.”
“Tag, that’s perfect, Isabella,” Jack said. “I think Moira should jump. It’s the only way she’s going to get away.”
Isabella looked over the railing. An uncertain frown crossed her face.
“It’s not that far,” he said.
“It is so!” she argued.
“No. It isn’t.” Jack pressed himself against Moira. “I want to see her try and get away.”
“It’s a long way down.”
“Shut up, Isabella” he growled.
Isabella shrunk back for a second and then cocked her head, listening. “He’s coming!”
“If he drags her back to his office, no telling what he’ll do,” Jack said. “This is tag, Isabella. Moira has to get away or she’ll be it.”
Excited, Isabella ran back and forth between them and the door. “He’s coming, Moira! Jump!”
Jack backed Moira up to the railing. She glanced over her shoulder at the dizzying height of the stairwell. The railing dug into her back. The coldness of Jack’s presence seeped through her body. She could hear Dr. Cassano calling her name. Moira opened her mouth to answer him.
“Don’t,” Jack murmured.
Panicked, she tried to push past him and couldn’t.
“I can feel how scared you are.” Something bordering on hunger crept into his voice. “How scared would you be if you fell?” His presence pressed against her and she cringed. “Your heart is beating so hard, Moira. And your breath…it’s coming faster too.”
A wave of dizziness threatened to overcome her. In a fit of desperation, she pushed through Jack’s presence and stumbled. She grabbed the railing with both hands and fled down the stairs, grasping it tightly all the way down. Icy tremors reverberated throughout her core like aftershocks.
VOICES Buy Links:
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.
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