26 September 2017

Mirror, Mirror by Jessica Jesinghaus Book Tour and Giveaway!

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!**

Mirror, Mirror Excerpt
“So, tell me about her.” Sam and Patrick were curled up on her bed even though it was early afternoon. They were exhausted from moving the furniture. Emily’s vanity table now occupied its new space in Sam’s room. “You don’t have to if you don’t want,” he added, “I’m just curious.”
“No. It’s okay. Emily was my cousin. She was sixteen. Her parents went out one night and someone slipped into the house. It was right here in town. He raped her, and then stabbed her to death. I was just a kid when it happened.”
“My God. Did they get the guy?”
“No. It’s still an open case. My family kept me pretty sheltered from it at the time, but I’ve looked into the old stories on file at the paper. There isn’t much to go on.”
“I could look into it a bit, if you’d like. She... I mean, you said it happened here?” Sam nodded. “I know a couple of the guys over in homicide. I’m sure they’d let me look at the file. I’ll just get some info from you before I go.”
“You’re leaving?” she interjected.
“Do you want me to stay?”
“Well... don’t you want to?”
Patrick grinned. “Okay. How about I run over to my apartment, pick up a few things, and I’ll be back in time for dinner?”
“Is that a hint?”
“Hey, a guy’s gotta eat.”
As Sam walked him to the door she gave Patrick the information about Emily’s case he’d need in order to request the file, and told him in no uncertain terms that she’d be interested in seeing what the file contained. As she watched Patrick drive away, Jen descended the stairs. She bounded over and threw herself into their new furniture. “These are so comfortable!” Jen nestled even deeper into the overstuffed cushions, drawing her feet beneath her in a relaxed curl. “So, where did Patrick go?”
“Just back to his apartment for a little while. He’ll be back for dinner.”
“Okay. Will you explain to me what’s going on with you guys?”
Sam sat down next to her friend, the smile she’d been hiding from Patrick ever since their conversation in the truck leaping to her face with a vengeance. “He says he’s falling in love with me.”
“Yeah, I know! And get this, I laughed at him.” Sam’s faced contracted into a frown of guilt. “I feel so bad! He’s sitting there telling me how wonderful I am and how he doesn’t want to be away from me and I laughed at him!”
“Well, what about you?” Jen queried, jabbing her friend lightly in the ribs. “Are you falling in love with him?”
“I don’t know.” Sam laughed nervously, then, “Maybe.”
Sam passed the time while Patrick was away organizing furniture and accessories in her living room. When she was finally satisfied with her arrangements she moved to her room. Grabbing her mother’s old vanity tray and the bottles of perfume from the bathroom, Sam moved them to her cousin’s table. She sat onto the little matching stool and ran her fingers across the dark red wood, then pulled them back quickly, startled.
She had felt something. Something unusual, inexplicable. It was as if the tabletop was red hot, or electrified. It didn’t hurt to touch it, it was more like a dull ache. Tentatively, she extended her hand to the wood once more, but the sensation was gone. “Weird,” she muttered.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a while, her mind in another place. What this little piece of furniture must have witnessed! Again, Sam’s over-active imagination ran to her family’s dark history. The room she saw reflected behind her in the mirror no longer resembled her own. In place of all her belongings she saw unfamiliar things. There was a bed behind her, and someone was sleeping there. The bedroom door opened and a dark figure entered, moving quietly.
“Sam?” She was startled, the trance broken. Her own room jumped back into focus and she saw Patrick in the doorway, a small duffel bag sitting at his feet. “Sam? Are you all right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” She stood and walked to where he stood, planting a quick kiss on his cheek. “I’m glad you’re back.”
“Hmm. Me too.” He held her tightly to him for a moment. Then, smiling, he asked, “What’s for dinner? I’m famished.”
Sam laughed. “I don’t know. What do you feel like eating?”
“I don’t care. I’m just very, very hungry.”

“Well, lets go see what we can whip up, shall we?”

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!**
From the Shadow Excerpt
This was the moment he had feared. He lay still, waiting for the backlash, waiting for her resentment. Instead, she gazed down at him, at his handsome face.
When she spoke, there was a slight tremor barely concealed in her voice, but none of the anger or contempt he expected. “What are you?”
“I do not know,” he sighed, then added, “I am a monster.” Against his will, his body shook with a silent sob that welled up from deep inside. He fought against it with all his strength. He started to rise, knowing he must leave before she turned against him, but he was surprised when she pulled him back to her side.
“You’re not a monster.”
Tears began to fall freely from his eyes now. “But I am,” he argued feebly. He started to say something more, but Lynn pressed her lips to his once again, silencing him. He had longed for little else these past years than to be accepted, yet now he pulled away from her.
“Lynn,” he tried, but she continued her gentle assault. He submitted to her, allowing himself to be lost in the feeling he had coveted so desperately.
His fingers found themselves lost in her soft hair. He pressed his mouth to hers, satisfying a different hunger for the first time in centuries. Lynn sensed the change in him and responded in kind. Her hands traveled across the skin of his chest, moving down to the waistband of the swim trunks he still wore.
Jacob was torn between his desire for her, for her acceptance of him, and a fear that he would, in the end, harm her. But his fear was pushed aside as her hands continued their exploration of his body. She pulled her mouth away from his for a moment, a quiet sigh escaping her lips.
He took this opportunity to move his mouth to her neck, kissing her gently, breathing deep and enjoying the smell of her skin. For so long, he had not been this close to anyone without smelling fear. Hers was a glorious scent, filling him, causing his head to spin dizzily. While her hands moved ever lower, he became more excited. In this frenzy, he lost track of himself and grazed the delicate skin of her neck with one of his sharp teeth.
She felt it happen and gasped, her entire body becoming rigid. Yet still, there was no real sign of fear.
“I am sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she assured him, her body relaxing a little.
He could see a small bloom of red blood against her white skin and could not help himself. He put his mouth near her neck again and lowered it to the wound. His tongue swept over the red liquid. It was the sweetest taste he had ever known, free of the bitterness of hate and fear.
Lynn was frozen and her breathing halted. In that moment, while he tasted of her, she was flooded by a wash of images, visions of his past. It seemed an age, his mouth frozen hungrily over her neck, but in reality it was a fraction of a second. In that moment, she learned much of what he was, what he had become, and what he had done.
It was as if she were inside a great sphere, suspended weightless in the very center. Sights, sounds, and colors were perceptible every direction she looked. As she watched, the colors coalesced into distinguishable images.
She turned her head and was able to see a moving image, a memory from Jacob’s past. Her senses were bombarded. She could feel the wind, smell the salty air, and hear the sounds of seabirds in the distance. She could tell by his dress and his manner that this was an image of Jacob from a time long past. She watched, mesmerized, as Jacob walked along an ocean beach. There was a woman at his side. She was beautiful, her long hair whipping in the salty breeze. They kissed and Lynn lowered her eyes, turning her head modestly.
When she moved her head this new direction, she was met with a new image. She saw him sitting at the bedside of the same woman. Candles burned solemnly on the bedside tables. She appeared wasted and weak. Her once bright green eyes were now clouded and dull. Lynn could hear Jacob whisper comforting, loving words to the woman before him.
Turning around, she was met with yet another image. This time, Jacob stood bare-chested in the rain, calling to the heavens, pleading with God to save his love. He screamed her name repeatedly to the stormy sky: Johanna.
Lynn watched a progression of similar visions, and in each she was met with an image of Jacob in desperation, either at the side of the woman he loved, trying to nurse her to health, or pleading with God for her safety.
She was heartbroken as she watched. She was witness to the unraveling of his life, of everything he held precious. She felt like an interloper, a trespasser. She didn’t want to see any more. She closed her eyes, begging for the images to stop.
But when she opened her eyes, she was greeted with another image. It was a bleak night, lighting flashed in the distance, and Jacob stood alone in the dark. He screamed to the heavens again, begging God one final time. In desperation, he changed his plea, calling to the Darkness instead. He spoke words she couldn’t understand, another language, words from another age. “Cruinnich dorchadas! Teth pian, sgrios, eagal agus bàs, tighinn!”
She watched in horror as a Shadow solidified before the spot upon which Jacob stood. She could sense the fear he felt, but watched as he steeled himself in preparation to do whatever was necessary to save the woman he loved.
Lynn listened as he struck a cold bargain. She watched, horrified, as the Shadow wrapped itself about his body, shrouding him completely, obscuring him from sight. Then it seemed to sink into him, disappearing for a moment. He writhed in pain, falling to his knees, a dreadful scream erupting from his mouth. The scream poured forth, seemingly unending, until finally the Shadow withdrew from him. It stood before him again, this time announcing a terrible sentence.
He had been duped. The Shadow had tricked him, lured him with the promise of saving Johanna, but there would be no stopping the sickness which was claiming her as its own. And he, Jacob, had been condemned to life as a monster.
Lynn watched as he made his way back to Johanna’s side. Johanna could sense he was changed. He tried to make her understand that the choices he made were for her benefit, to try to save her. She looked at him in revulsion as he tried to explain the terrible bargain he made. As he talked, her pious hatred of what he had become began to permeate the very air. Lynn could smell it, taste it, and feel it. She knew Jacob could sense it as well.
Her hatred ignited the hunger within him. Lynn could feel it as strongly as if it were her own. It was the first time he had been confronted with the hunger and he could not fight it. He acted upon this new impulse to feed, reaching for the closest thing to quell the hunger. Before he realized what he had done, he held Johanna’s wrist in an iron grasp, sucking greedily at her. She screamed in horror but this only incited him further.
Lynn watched, unable to tear her gaze away, as she witnessed Jacob’s first kill. She cried silently, sharing his pain as he realized what he had done. The hatred he felt for himself was as tangible as anything Lynn had ever felt. Hot tears spilled down her face.
Visions of his long isolation cascaded around her. She saw flashes of his desperation, moments when he had made himself known to others only to be met with hatred and fear. In one vision, he brought a woman back to his den, stolen from her bed as she slept. He sat at her side, waiting for her to wake, hoping when she did she could be accepting of him. He was sorely disappointed. She watched as, instead, he gorged himself on the woman’s entrails.
Lynn felt the acute anguish of his hunger, witnessed his efforts to ignore its bite. He failed. She saw many more of his kills, the visions tumbling around her in a dizzying torrent. The blood, the pain, and the hunger filled the pit of her stomach until she felt as if she would be sick.
He hid in dank caves, living on the outskirts of villages and towns. She watched as centuries passed him by. She witnessed his assault on a small child one Halloween night. The boy was in costume, dressed as a vampire. Although Jacob was not a vampire in the traditional sense, his immortality and his thirst for blood were vampiric qualities. Neither she nor Jacob himself knew exactly what he had become, but he considered himself a monster. She could sense his outrage at being mocked, although the child who lay dead in his arms had meant no such thing.
More of his victims screamed in fear around her. The sound was a cacophony that resounded in her head until she felt as if she could take no more. The nameless faces paraded past in an endless stream. Finally, she saw an image different from the others.
Jacob cowered in his den at the back of a cold, dark cave. Men were there with guns. They fired and Lynn could feel the bullets as if they had struck her own body. He fell to the ground, prodded and examined fearfully by his would-be killers. Then they left him, unaware that he could not be killed, that he wished for nothing more than death, and that he had tried to die many times.
He began to run.

She could sense this was almost the end of his journey so far. She was dreading the visions to come, for she could almost sense what would be. Thankfully, the images of her friends were brief. She could taste the hatred they felt before they died. She pitied them almost as much as she pitied Jacob. Hot tears fell from her eyes and the colors around her abruptly ceased, pitching her into total darkness.

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!**

Desolation Gulch Excerpt

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.
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.

Follow the tour HERE for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway!

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