Mirror,
Mirror
by
Jessica Jesinghaus
Genre:
Paranormal
Mystery Thriller
Nearly
twenty years ago a teenage girl was murdered...
Samantha
Williams was just a young girl when her cousin, Emily, was brutally
raped and killed in her own home. As a child, Sam's family did their
best to shelter her from the gruesome details. Now, working the crime
beat for the Portland Tribune, Sam has the resources at her
fingertips to investigate the case for herself.
Through
the eyes of a killer...
After
inheriting a family heirloom, an antique vanity table that once
belonged to her murdered cousin, Sam begins seeing visions in the
mirror's depths. Like watching an old home movie, she bears witness
to Emily's murder. As if that weren't frightening enough, she starts
to see other things too: fleeting glimpses of the killer himself! Are
the things she sees just a figment of her imagination or could
something otherworldly be trying to communicate with her? When the
killer strikes again and leaves clues behind meant specifically for
Sam it becomes a race against time to try to catch him.
**.99
cents on Amazon!**
Jen
and Patrick stood outside Sam’s bedroom door. “She’ll sleep for a while.”
“I
can’t help but think this is my fault.”
“Why?”
Jen questioned.
“If
I hadn’t brought that damn file for her to look at...”
“She
would’ve gotten her hands on it eventually. Somehow. If not from you, then from
Joe, or from some one else. That’s just Sam, so don’t blame yourself.”
“What
do you think she was talking about?”
“I
have no idea.” Jen shook her head.
“Whatever
it was, it had her pretty freaked.”
Sam
could hear the two of them talking, she’d only pretended to fall asleep. She
needed a moment to sort things out, to try and make order of the racing
thoughts inside her head. Was it real? Or had she imagined it? She didn’t like
the implications of either answer. Something inexplicably scary had just
happened to her. Either that, or she was cracking up.
Sam
stood shakily in front of the mirror, reaching out hesitantly to touch its
surface. Her fingers trembled uncontrollably, and she drew her hand back,
afraid suddenly to touch the glass. Afraid it may not be real and afraid it
might be at the same time.
“What
just happened to me?” she wondered aloud.
Then,
in a flash, the smooth pane of glass before her filled with the same image as
before. Sam stood mesmerized, watching the scene play out before her again. As
she watched, the figure in bed with her cousin rocked atop her in the
unmistakable throws of passion. Sam could hear Emily’s voice crying out in
ecstasy. Then there was that same strange crackle, and the scene jumped
forward. Emily’s lover now stood by the window, his back to Sam, and Emily was
asking him to untie her. But he never moved.
“Come
on,” Emily was giggling. “Untie me. Please?” Still nothing. “Untie me.” Sam
could hear the discomfort growing in her cousin’s voice with every request.
The
scene crackled one more time. This skip brought the vision to its grizzly end.
As Sam watched in horror, she saw Emily’s lover atop her again, this time
wielding a knife. He let out a horrific sound, half laugh and half scream, as
Sam watched the knife make its first vicious plunge into her cousin’s body. All
the while, Emily screamed, and the knife flashed again and again.
Just
as suddenly as it began, the vision flickered and disappeared. Sam was utterly
astounded by what she had just witnessed. She turned away from the vanity table
and quickly strode out into the living room. She must’ve looked frightened,
because as soon as Jen saw her she jumped up from the sofa and rushed to her
side.
“Sam?
What’s the matter? What’s happened?”
“The
mirror...” Sam started, but Patrick stepped to her side and interrupted.
“Come
sit down,” he instructed as he led her to the sofa.
“What
about the mirror?” Jen prompted.
“I
saw Emily.” Sam stopped to collect her thoughts and to try to convert them into
words her friends would understand. “I was looking in the mirror, and I saw
Emily... on... on the night she was murdered...”
“What?”
Patrick asked. “Sam, you... that’s not possible,” he sighed.
“I
know what you must be thinking,” Sam admitted, “but I did not imagine
this. It was real.”
“Sam,
are you hearing yourself?” Jen asked, trying to reason with her friend. “What
you’re telling us is just impossible.”
“Don’t
you think I know how this must sound? I know it sounds nuts, but I also know
what I saw! She knew her killer. He was there, in bed with her.” Sam stopped
her narration a moment and saw Jen and Patrick exchange worried glances.
“Listen, I know you must think I’m nuts, but I’m telling you she knew
him! She was tied to the bed, they were having sex, and the next thing I saw
was him with the knife. And he was stabbing her and she was screaming...” Sam
felt hot tears quietly sliding down her face.
“Honey,
stop,” Patrick cooed, stroking her hair softly. “We can talk about this later.
You can get some sleep, you can calm down...” Sam nodded reluctantly.
“How
about I run you a nice, hot bath?” Jen offered.
“Okay,”
Sam relented.
As
Jen got up and disappeared into Sam’s room, Patrick held onto Sam tightly.
“Honey, are you all right? You’re scaring me.” Sam looked up into Patrick’s
face and he couldn’t miss the terrified look in her eyes.
“You’re
scared?” Sam managed a half-laugh. “Try being me right now.”
“Okay,
point taken.” They both released a jitter of nervous laughter and when it
subsided, Patrick asked, “Feeling better?”
“A
little.”
“Come
on. Let’s go check on that bath.”
They
found Jen in the bathroom, adding some bubbles to the already half full tub.
“Hey girl, bath’s almost ready.”
“Thanks
Jen.”
“If
you need to talk later, I’ll be upstairs, all right?” Sam nodded. “Patrick, you
got it from here?”
“Yeah.
I got it.” With Jen gone, Patrick turned to Sam. “Come on, let’s get you out of
these clothes.”
Sam
smiled, despite the tears still brimming in her eyes. “Is that all you think
about?” she teased, while Patrick helped her out of her T-shirt. As she slipped
into the water she asked, “Care to join me?”
“If
you’d like,” came his reply.
As
Sam sank back against Patrick’s chest in the hot water, she sighed deeply.
After a few minutes of silence, she piped up, “I didn’t imagine it.”
“I
never said you did.”
“I
need you to believe me. What I’m telling you is real.”
“What
did you see, exactly?”
“Like
I said, I saw Emily.” She spoke haltingly. “It was like looking through a
window, right into her room. It was the night she died. There was someone with
her, in her room. His face was always in shadow. They were in bed together...”
Sam’s voice trailed off for a moment, and she closed her eyes. Patrick’s hands
made their way to her hair, his fingers twining there, relaxing her.
Sam
continued, “She was tied to the bed, but willingly. Patrick, she knew him. They
were lovers... and I... I saw him kill her.”
“But
honey,” he protested.
“I
did not imagine it!” Sam sat up and turned to face him.
Patrick
cupped her face in his hands. “I believe you. Okay? I believe you saw
something.” Patrick paused. “But we’d just seen all those pictures. You looked
at pictures of your cousin’s dead body!” He took her by the shoulders and
turned her back around, leaning her against his chest once more.
“Now,” he instructed, “Just relax. And try to forget about it
for a little while.”
From
the Shadow
by
Jessica Jesinghaus
Genre:
PNR
Horror / Occult
What
makes a man a monster?
For
too long Jacob has lived in isolation. Forsaken by God and cursed by
a Shadow, he is doomed to an eternity of solitude with only the
demons of his past for company. For nearly two hundred years, he has
longed for that which he knows he can never have: forgiveness, love,
and redemption.
A
chance encounter could hold the key...
When
Jacob meets Lynn, she shines a ray of hope across his bleak
existence. But will she be strong enough to shoulder the truth of his
past? Can she forgive the horrors he has wrought? Can she help him
come to terms with his past and move with him into a brighter
future?
An
old nemesis threatens...
Confronted
by an ancient enemy, Lynn and Jacob travel halfway around the world.
There, they face the daunting task of sifting through ancient history
for clues to their tormentor's weaknesses and a way to loose his grip
on their future.
What
good can come From the Shadow?
**.99
cents on Amazon!**
They
were on one of Lynn’s nocturnal excursions, stealing their way among the
shadows, when they heard it: a stifled cry somewhere in the darkness. If not for
their astute hearing, they would have missed it, lost the sound to the wind.
Instead, something about the sound caused Lynn to look fleetingly at her
companion. Jacob took her hand, following his ears to the source of the sound.
They moved stealthily, their feet making no noise as they progressed ever
closer.
The
smell of fear hit them both like a solid wall. Jacob was accustomed to the
smell and was virtually unfazed, however for Lynn this scent was something new.
She had known it before, but only briefly, dulled somewhat by the swirling
nature of Jacob’s memories. Realizing it now in its full potency she felt
compelled to stop in her tracks, nostrils flaring widely.
“What
is it?” he asked her, concerned.
“That
smell!”
Jacob
laughed lightly. “Someone is afraid,” he explained.
“But
not of us, we’ve done nothing…. No one has seen us.” Lynn paused, straining her
ears, willing herself to hear something that would explain the palpable fear in
the air around her. Then she heard it.
Faintly,
the sounds of grunting, shuffling, and whimpering met her ears. Once more her
eyes flicked meaningfully to Jacob. He closed his eyes slowly, sighed, and then
said, “All right. Come.”
They
ran through the dark alley, their feet still soundless on the wet concrete,
until they were within sight of the sound’s source. In the darkness, their keen
sight was needed, but at the moment, Lynn wished she was unable to see.
What
her reluctant vision showed her was two men holding a third person, a woman,
helplessly captive at the dead-end. One man pinned her arms behind her, holding
her firmly while his friend’s hands traveled over her body and beneath her
clothes, violating her without mercy. She had long since given up on screaming,
silent tears coursing down her face instead.
“We
are not the only monsters out tonight,” Jacob managed through clenched teeth.
Lynn gratefully pulled her gaze from the horrors before her and turned to face
him. She was shocked by what she saw.
His
fists were clenched tightly at his sides, the muscles of his arms tensing in
rhythm with the grinding of his jaw. His eyes, beautiful and golden, suddenly
shone with an angry yellow light. She’d never seen him like this before. He
looked truly wild and dangerous.
“Shouldn’t
we do something?” Lynn asked desperately.
His
answer was more of a growl. “Gladly.”
Lynn
watched him advance, mesmerized by the fluidity of his movements. She hung
back, unsure what would transpire and what her part in it would be. This was
new to her. She watched as the eerie yellow light of his eyes swept across the
wall right behind the men. They looked up, their countenances a mixture of fear
and confusion.
Another
growl escaped Jacob, this one much louder, directed at the men who now stood
mere feet from him. They released the woman who, stunned at first, stood numbly
there between them.
“Get
out of here,” Jacob growled to her, and this seemed to break her stupor. She
found her feet and scuttled quickly back out of the alley, past the point where
Lynn stood watching Jacob’s every move. The anguish evident in the woman’s face
as she passed angered Lynn more than she knew she was capable. She could feel
the emotion building inside her, roiling up in waves until she could feel the
bile of anger at the back of her throat.
As
soon as the woman was clear, Jacob advanced on the men.
“Dude!”
one of the men laughed, “What’s your problem?”
“Yeah,
we were havin’ fun,” the other chimed.
The
heavy, rumbling growl Jacob directed at them wiped the smirks from their faces.
They seemed to notice, for the first time, his glowing eyes. His red hair
flowed out behind him, tendrils flicking like flames in the early fall wind.
“Come
on,” the first one said, “Let’s get outta here.” They stepped forward,
apparently thinking they could get past Jacob, and totally unaware of Lynn
standing further down the alley and out of their mortal range of vision.
Things
happened so quickly Lynn was almost caught by surprise. As soon as the nearest
one had taken his second step forward, Jacob lunged, closing the gap between
them in one fluid movement. He lashed out with his left hand, his shortened
nails still efficient in slicing through the soft flesh at the man’s throat. As
the blood started to pour forth, Jacob eagerly placed his mouth to the wound
and drank.
The
second man, barely registering those events, began to flee in terror. He ran
straight toward Lynn. He kept looking over his shoulder, praying what he
thought he had seen was a mistake, a nightmare, not real. He looked forward too
late and saw a pair of glowing violet eyes nearing him in the darkness.
Lynn
was unsure of herself, but she knew the anger she felt was righteous. She
reached out one of her slender but powerful arms and caught the man by the
throat, lifting him bodily from the ground. He continued to run, his feet
pumping futilely in the air. Even in the rush of action, she took a second to
marvel at the strength she now possessed.
A
strangled scream, half moan, escaped from the man as he pleaded with her. She
smiled at him then, baring her teeth for him to see. She pulled him toward her
and used her teeth to rip at his throat.
As
the hot liquid filled her mouth, she was surprised by the taste. The only blood
she’d known was Jacob’s; his was a sweet elixir that calmed her very core. But
this… this was something else. This was acidic, sharp, tainted with fear and
hate. She was amazed Jacob had existed on nothing more than this and,
occasionally, the blood of animals. Yet still she drank. Even foul blood held
its own allure and she could not stop herself until she had drained every drop.
Jacob
approached her just as she dropped the empty husk to the dirty alley floor. She
looked up at him meekly, almost ashamed of her actions. He found her beautiful,
her lips stained by the red blood, the hot violet glow of her angry eyes slowly
fading back to their usual cool blue. He pressed his mouth against hers
quickly, the blood of their victims mingling between their warm lips.
When
he pulled away, he smiled at her. “That was… almost fun,” she admitted, a
guilty smile pulling the corners of her lips upward.
“Fun?
Perhaps. But certainly foolish,” he chided, his eyes falling to the lifeless
form at their feet.
“But
we couldn’t let them…. They were going to… Foolish?” Lynn was perplexed.
She did feel slightly guilty for what she had done. She had killed someone.
Yet, she knew their actions may have saved an innocent woman’s life. How could
that be foolish?
Jacob
laughed at her. It was a deep sound, full of awe and wonder. “So innocent,” he
marveled, laughter still evident in his voice. Then, he suddenly turned
serious. “We have to dispose of them.”
Comprehension
dawned quickly. “Oh,” she murmured, shuffling her feet. She hadn’t thought of
that. “What do we do?”
Jacob
smiled crookedly. “I am not sure.” That was one benefit of living away from
civilization; he’d never had to try too hard to hide his kills. He stepped idly
away, his eyes surveying the dark surroundings. His smile widened as his eyes
lit upon a dumpster. “It is crude,” he admitted, “but it is no more than they
deserve.”
Lynn
followed his gaze and, as he stooped to drag the man at their feet away, she
smiled. She stepped to the back of the alley and grabbed the other man, lifting
him effortlessly, his feet the only thing dragging behind as she quickly strode
to meet Jacob by the brown bin. As she approached, Lynn saw Jacob tearing
through the pockets of the man at his feet.
He
smiled at her as he removed the man’s wallet. “Waste not, want not.” He pulled
a small wad of cash from the brown billfold and motioned to Lynn she should do
the same.
They heaved the two bodies into the dumpster,
covering them with a bit of the refuse already in the bin, and then closed the
lid. They emerged from the darkness of the alley hand in hand, matching smiles
on their too-red lips.
Desolation
Gulch
by
Jessica Jesinghaus
Genre:
Romantic Suspense
Valerie
knew fairytales weren't true... at least not the happily-ever-after
kind. In her world, nothing ever worked out so neatly. Her life was
full of dark secrets and deep hurt. Until she met Fallon. Somehow he
could read her hidden chapters and he knew exactly how to turn her
life into a dream.
But
Fallon isn't everything he seems; he has dark secrets of his
own.
When
Valerie finds herself in a dangerous situation and must flee, it's a
daunting task. With nowhere to run and no way to guarantee Fallon
won't follow, Valerie finds herself stranded in a small Central
Oregon town at the mercy of a handsome stranger. He promises to help
her, but can anyone save her from desolation?
**.99
cents on Amazon!**
The drive back to my apartment seemed to take forever.
After Fallon’s insistence there was nothing wrong, heavy
silence had fallen between us. Neither of us spoke as he navigated the car
fluidly through traffic, wending the way back toward my apartment complex. I
sat in quiet discomfort beside him, wondering what could have possibly happened
to change his demeanor so drastically.
No obvious answer came to me and in the silence my mind swam
with unbidden memories of my uncle.
I felt now as I always had after my uncle’s ‘visits,’ like
the outcome was somehow my fault. I tried to push the memories away, but to no
avail; they were just too strong. It seemed the more I thought on them, though,
the more detached and angry Fallon became. I could almost feel the anger
pouring off of him in waves, washing over my skin and chilling me to the core.
When we arrived at my apartment Fallon pulled the car to the
curb. His dark eyes fell upon my face and I was startled to see they were
filled with icy rage. Despite the warmth in the car, I shivered.
Fallon seemed to notice. “I’ll walk you upstairs,” he
breathed, contrition starting to edge past the anger that had hardened all the
angles of his handsome face.
“No,” I mumbled, my hands wringing nervously in my lap. “I
can manage,” I began, but Fallon shouldered his door open even as I spoke.
He led me inside and onto the elevator without another word.
I cast him periodic, sidelong glances during the ride up to the seventh floor,
still perplexed by the change that had derailed our otherwise wonderful
evening.
While the elevator made its slow climb upward I replayed our
time together in my head, smiling inside at my acute awkwardness at the
restaurant and at Fallon’s seeming enjoyment of my company. I could see nothing
that would have triggered his anger like this, yet still I could feel his
boiling rage just under the surface.
Why?
When Fallon spoke, it came as a shock. “I’m sorry about
this. I wish I could explain...” The elevator chimed then, interrupting him,
and the doors ground open. He placed his hand in the small of my back and
pressed me forward out of the confines of the lift and toward my apartment
door.
When we reached it, I gulped once, gathering the courage to
speak. The words poured out in a hushed whisper. “I’m sorry, too,” I started.
“I don’t know what I did, but…”
“No!” Again, the anger in Fallon’s voice was tempered with
another emotion, but I didn’t have time to consider what it might be. “You’ve
done nothing wrong,” he repeated forcefully.
His dark eyes glistened and he stared at me for a long
moment before suddenly pressing his lips against mine. This wasn’t a tender
kiss, meant to reassure me like the one in the restaurant, but rather a kiss
full of fury and heat. It took my breath away.
His body pressed against mine, trapping me against the door
of my apartment. I could feel tension in his frame, as if he restrained some
wild animal. Suddenly, his hands were upon me, slipping beneath the coat I
still wore until they found the bare skin of my arms. His fingers tightened
around them, making me gasp in surprise and pain. He stopped abruptly, his
hands falling away, his eyes wide with shock.
“I’m sorry.” He kept his face near mine and his words were a
whisper of breath against my cheek. “I should go.”
I was surprised by my response. My hands darted out to grip
his shoulders, pulling his body closer to me again and pressing my head against
his shoulder. “Please,” I managed, my voice a mere croak, “tell me what’s
wrong.”
Despite his words to the contrary, I still thought the fault
must be mine. I was desperate to see his anger somehow appeased; I just didn’t
know how to go about it.
“I can’t,” he said. Although I couldn’t see his face, I
could hear the conflict in his voice. I knew what I would see should I look up;
Fallon was torn. His arms wrapped around me, encircling my body tenderly, his
hands stroking gently upon the sore places on my arms where he’d only just hurt
me. “I wish I could tell you Valerie.” His voice hitched as he spoke and I
could feel his hot breath against the top of my head.
A sudden urge gripped me. I didn’t know how he would react,
but I acted upon the impulse anyway. Stretching up on my tiptoes, I kissed him.
The action was completely unlike me, and I felt almost as if my body moved of
its own accord. My hands moved to cradle his head and my fingers became lost in
his soft, dark hair.
He was slow to respond, as if fearing his anger would hurt
me again, but gradually he warmed to my affections. He pressed me against the
doorframe once more and his hands began to move tenderly across my body. The
rage was still there, but it wasn’t as potent. I could feel the heat beneath
his skin returning as my lips moved against his.
I tore away, breathless, and looked up at him, surprised to
see the glimmer of damp tears clinging to his lashes. It didn’t appear that any
tears had spilled over, but the mere fact they were there at all shocked me
deeply.
“Are you okay?” I whispered, moving one of my hands to his
cheek and wiping the moisture away with my thumb.
Fallon’s eyes closed heavily and his chin sank to his chest.
“I should go,” he whispered, although his arms didn’t lessen their hold.
I sighed. I couldn’t move away from him, he still had me
pressed against the door of the apartment, but I began to shrug off Fallon’s
jacket so I could return it to him. I was surprised when his hands moved to
stop me.
“No,” he breathed. “Keep it. You can give it back later.”
“Later?” I dared to hope.
Fallon smiled. That act alone transformed his face, and the
anger seemed to melt away. He mimicked his own actions from earlier in the
evening and kissed the tip of his index finger, then pressed it against the end
of my nose. “I hope I haven’t made so much of an ass of myself that you don’t want
to see me again.”
I shook my head with conviction. “Not a chance.”
My words made his smile grow even wider. He leaned in again
and kissed me, softly and quickly, before saying, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” With
that, he turned and strode away down the hall.
Born
and raised in Southern Oregon, Jessica has been writing since she was
ten years old. She attended Willamette University with the intention
of going to law school and becoming a criminal prosecutor. But, as is
the way with life, plans changed. Since 2002 she has worked in the
medical field and absolutely loves the challenges and positive impact
she can have on the lives of others. She loves the outdoors and
considers herself blessed to call Oregon her home.
Following
the birth of her second child, she committed herself to writing her
first novel. Unfortunately for her, story ideas rarely present
themselves one at a time and she often has two (if not three)
manuscripts in progress at once. When she's not writing her own
material, she enjoys reading a wide variety of books, many of them
aloud to her husband and two children.
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2 comments:
Nice covers!
I think the book sounds incredible.
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