Darkness is Coming Book Tour & Giveaway 5/7 – 6/7

When Jess buys the house on Scarlet Lane, she quickly learns there’s

more inside the house than the walls. A strange clicking fills the
house at night, terrifying her children, ghosts reveal themselves,
and she discovers a dark entity frightened a young girl, causing her
to fall down the stairs to her death.

After Mason is released from prison, he is lucky to find a job and a place
to live in his hometown. When he meets Jess, he discovers she bought
his childhood home on Scarlet Lane, but he doesn’t know anything
about the dark things that reside there, and has been sent on a
mission by his employer to find something, though he isn’t given
any details of what he’s looking for.

Only a few know what happened in the old mining at the base of the
mountain when the beast made itself known over two hundred years ago.
Throughout the years it toys with the residents, possessing them,
tormenting them, killing them. An unexpected hero tells Jess and
Mason the town’s history, and about the beast trapped in the house
on Scarlet Lane, sharing the plan to end its reign of terror before
it takes more lives.

 

Goodreads * Amazon

 

Charles W. Jones grew up in the small town Shoshoni, WY, and he managed to

break free from its grasp with his soul intact. Growing up in a small
town scared him to death most of the time. It’s very dark at night –
really dark. To top it off, it is full of ghosts; well, that’s what
Charles thought when he was kid. Turns out it was just the constant
wind blowing dirt and tumbleweeds. Two of Charles’ novels are set in
Shoshoni, Dreamwalker: The Second Plain and HOME A Novel.

There isn’t a part of the horror genre Charles doesn’t like. He likes it
creepy, filled with suspense, or even brutal with intense torture
scenes. His favorite horror movies have always been the slasher
movies; give him the gore. Clive Barker is Charles’ greatest
influence, but is also inspired by Lewis Carroll, Stephen King, and
Frank Beddor. Real life is a large contributor to his writing, where
he finds beauty in the most unexpected places.

Music has always been a great contributor to Charles’ life, by means of
not
only entertainment, but personal soundtrack. When he writes, he
listens to different types of music to set the mood of the scene he
is writing. Eurythmics will always be at the top of his playlist, but
many other bands and genres occupy his mind.

Chloe crossed the room behind the sofa to the kitchen door, holding it open, her
heart fluttering with anxiety.
Claire stood at the window near the table.
Chloe was more startled than afraid to find the woman fixated on the world beyond
the border of glass.
When the woman gave no sign that she was aware of Chloe’s presence, the girl
moved around the island to the sink, the door swinging closed behind her.
“Hi, Claire.” Chloe turned on the faucet with a towel under the cool stream. “I didn’t
know you were downstairs.”
The woman turned her face toward Chloe, her body unmoving.
The darkness enveloping her eyes was disconcerting, but Chloe didn’t look away,
wanting to see the woman outside of the mirror, finding her more attractive without the
silvery glow of the mirror world distracting from her details.
Her golden hair was a pile of looping curls on top of her head. Her skin was smooth,
and dark-pink lipstick accentuated her lips. Chloe imagined that her eyes were blue like
Mason’s, cool, but warm with kindness and love.
“Why are you here?” Chloe’s tone remained even without a trace of fear as though
she were having a conversation with her mom. “Do you know?”
“This is my house,” Claire said. “Even though my asinine brother sold it.”
Though the woman’s lips moved, Chloe only heard a sound like a soft breeze
stroking the tips of wheat in a field.
Somehow Claire knew Chloe couldn’t hear her, and her lips pursed together in
frustration.
She began speaking again, this time with more force, intensifying the breeze into a
gust of wind shaking the windows, and causing the light over the island to flicker.
Cold water continued to run over the towel and Chloe’s hands, but she didn’t notice,
all her mind could manage was focusing on the woman.
Claire’s body joined the direction of her head, and she gracefully approached Chloe,
who tensed, wishing the woman to stay where she was. No longer able to look at her,
Chloe focused on the shed in the backyard being slowly devoured by shadows
stretching from the trees as the sun fell behind the mountain.
The water continued to flow over her hand and towel, and while it was cold, the
frigidness emitting from the woman was no match. Frost etched in the corners of the
window, melting, then reforming seconds later.
Though she didn’t want Claire to come any closer, Chloe made no protestation or any
movement to be away from her. The thin reflection of the woman joined hers in the
window, bending toward her ear.
“Darkness is coming,” the wispy voice said. “Be in your room before it comes. Don’t
let it get you.”
Blake pushed open the door. “What’s ta…” His words froze in his throat as the
ghostly woman’s attention moved to him.In the living, Mason looked beyond Blake to the tableau in the kitchen. Jess noticed
that he’d stiffened, following his stare at Blake holding the kitchen door, and Chloe at
the sink.
Sharon moaned, pulling Jess’s attention back.
Mason joined Blake, but Jess still didn’t know why.
“It’s all right, buddy.” Mason gave Blake’s shoulder a light squeeze. “Go back with
your mom, I’ll check on Chloe.”
Blake grumbled, wanting to stay, but didn’t disobey.
Mason paid little attention to the specter next to Chloe as he came up beside her at
the sink, but his mother scrutinized him as she had done in the mirror.
Chloe was calm, which he hadn’t expected. “She sounds so sad, and afraid.”
“You can hear her?” Mason regarded his mom.
“Only when she got close.” Chloe dropped the towel into the sink, and put her arms
around Mason, giving him an unobstructed view of his mom. The warmth of their bodies
offsetting the chill in the room.
He fought back tears threatening to fall. He’d missed her so much but seeing her now
filled him with dismay, not wanting to remember her eyes as dark pits. She should’ve
moved on to wherever souls go when people die.
Chloe released her hold on Mason, and he took the towel from the sink. Wringing it
out, he handed it to her. “Take this to your mom.”
With the towel in hand, she slipped passed him without looking back.
Claire wished she could hug him the way the girl had, to take him in her arms and
beg for forgiveness, to feel the warmth of his breath, to hear the strong tempo of his
heart.
Mason moved to where Chloe had stood, staring into the backyard. “You were right. I
shouldn’t have broken the rules, it ruined my life.”
Claire’s mouth turned down in what Mason took as sadness, but without being able to
see her eyes, he couldn’t confirm.
Raising a hand, she stroked his cheek, wishing to catch the tear that had escaped his
eye.
“Don’t forget your curfew!” she demanded.
His eyes widened, and he glanced at the clock on the coffee machine reading
7:33PM. “Is it because of the thing making the noise?”
“Yes, it will kill you, like it did your sister.”
“What is it?”
“Evil!”
Mason closed his eyes.
Claire wanted to do the same, but she couldn’t. She had to stay alert, especially now
that it no longer kept to its schedule. Clicking turned her attention to the door leading to
the hallway, taking her away from her son.
When he opened his eyes, she was gone, and the room warmed around him to a
comfortable seventy-three degrees.

 

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