Jack's Woods Fragrance Collection for Fall and Halloween

A collection of autumn splendor, dark October secrets, and of something lurking just inside the woods. With notes of harvest spices, dry autumn woods, ripe pumpkins and rich vanilla, golden amber, woodsmoke and brisk October air, Jack's Woods is a celebration of Halloween lore and life in small mountain towns. These fragrances are complex, unexpected, and just a little dark. 

Limited Edition Collection is perfect for all and just spooky enough for Halloween.  Jack's Woods is available through November.  

The Story of Jack's Woods
Don't follow the shadows.
Don't enter the woods on the edge of the cornfield.
Don't turn around when you hear the rustle of leaves.

She knew the stories. Every child in the village grew up knowing that the woods belonged to Jack. Bedtime stories, fables and farces to make children do their chores, go to sleep at night, and not stray from their own farms. Jack will come they said. Jack is waiting. The woods belong to Jack.

They never frightened her, even as a child. She always said that the woods may belong to Jack but I belong to the forest. Barefoot and half wild she ran through the trees, drank from the crystal springs, and foraged for the treasures the forest gave to her. There was never a time she did not walk with bits of the forest clinging to her hair or snagged in her skirt. Still, she could not deny the unnatural stillness that slid over the woods as autumn crept on. How the morning mists seemed to linger longer and longer and how even the trees seemed to slow their somber sway the nearer Halloween loomed. Never once did even she step a toe into the woods on that night. Not ever on Halloween night. It was forbidden, but how she longed to.

October 31st arrived and brought with it no celebrations, no laughter, no costumes or candy as it did for other towns. In the village by Jack's Woods, Halloween was celebrated with locked doors, extra candles burning, and sleepless nights for children who told scary stories and for the parents who sat quietly watching. They locked themselves in and they tried to lock out the night, tried to hide away in their sad gingerbread cottages.

That night, jarring dreams came to her. Dreams of mist and moonlight, impossibly deep shadows, and a voice calling to her. She dreamed she was running, bare feet and wet leaves and then there was the never ending rows of golden corn. She pushed on and on as the wind seems to call her name. The corn grew thicker and thicker and darker and darker until she could no longer see any light and then she was falling.

She jumped awake, clammy and breathless and not to her small stuffy attic room but to the dewy grass, pale moonlight, and the woods before her...watching...waiting. Mist swirled around her and seemed to pluck at her hair. She only needed to take one step and she would be inside . The mist tugged and pulled, tiny hands that could not hold. She would not have been able to resist if she wanted to. She belonged to the forest. One step and she was in, easily running on paths invisible in the night. She knew these paths, these were her paths. Along the cold spring and up the glen. The trees began to thin and the moon began to peek through bare branches.

That is when she began to smell it. A warmness on the air, the scent of chaos and creation. The first embers floated past her and then she saw the bonfire in the distance. Massive it loomed overhead, both in control and out of control and at the base she saw figures dancing. Swirling and laughing they danced through the sweet smoke to music made from unplayed instruments, adding more and more dead wood to the bonfire. She wanted to dance. She never wanted anything more. She felt the pull of the music deep in her chest. As she neared the fire the faces came into focus. They were her people, the people from the village. The mothers and fathers, the grandparents, even the children she could now see weaving and running and cackling with wild abandon. All the people who were locked away in their sad gingerbread cottages behind heavy wooden doors. All the people who forbade the forest and the night. They were here. She let out a laugh of surprise and made her way to join them when another figure took her notice. Lone, slender, and lithe, he leaned against the tree, his face in shadow. He was watching her and when he was sure she saw him he slid into the forest.

She followed him, stepping over broken pieces of pumpkin all along the way. He wanted to be followed. He moved through the forest without a sound, never bending or breaking a twig. It is as if the trees moved for her. Silently he lead her on and she found no words she wished to speak. Finally he slowed and as she moved closer to him he held out his hand behind him never turning to her. She took his hand and with a slight squeeze he pressed on through the darkness until they came crashing out to a clearing rimmed with stones and bathed in full moon light. She stood beside him, on the edge of the circle, hands still grasped, his face still in shadow. "Do you want to enter the circle?" he asked in a voice so raspy and heavy it was as if this was his first time speaking. Still he did not turn to her. Without a word, she stepped into the circle and pulled him with her. Now he swept her into his arms and held her close. They twirled and spun in a sweeping dance that she would have never believed her feet could dance, though, were her feet still touching the ground? She felt weightless and the more they danced the more she felt like floating. He looked down into her eyes, his eyes dark and endless as a wide smile spilled onto his pale porcelain face. He reached out and pulled a leaf from her wild red hair and let it go to tumble through the night.  

 The Fragrances:

Dead Woods Bonfire

 Fire roasted pumpkins dusted with cinnamon and clove, charred oud wood and sandalwood, molten amber, sweet wood ash, and a hint of aged leather.

A rich and tempting pumpkin spice with a firelit twist.

 

 

Gingerbread Cottage

Warm gingerbread and weathered wood, toasted clove and nutmeg, dried tonka beans and vanilla pods, black peppercorn and corn husks, and a sprinkle of sugar musk.

A ginger and spice fragrance like no other, dark and mysterious with untold secrets.

 

 Jack's Woods

Pumpkin and spice in the shade of the dark woods with a touch of foreboding. Notes of smashed pumpkin, dry autumn grass, charred wood, black peppercorn, grated ginger, smoked nutmeg, allspice berries, ambered musk, dry tobacco leaves, and a hint of woodsmoke in the cool breeze.

A dark spicy fragrance with notes of woodsmoke and dry woods.

 

Mist and Moonlight

 Swirling tendrils of sheer vanilla meet notes of white amber, benzoin, aged cedarwood, roasted tonka beans, pink peppercorn, and moonlit musk.

A dry vanilla fragrance with notes of white amber and wood.

 

Stone Circle

Cold October air on mountain stones. Notes of black amber, aged sandalwood, ozone musk, dried vanilla pods, a touch of moonlight and magic.

A bracing, unisex fragrance with just a hint of sweet woods.

 

2020 Halloween Fragrance Collection

 It's that time of year again.  Halloween is approaching and that means the return of the limited edition fragrances!  This year the collection features eight returning favorites and one all new fragrance, Of the Wolf.  The Beloved Friend of Jack fragrance has been renamed to Jack's Woods and has inspired it's very own collection aptly named Jack's Woods. 

Who doesn't love a good love story?  Who doesn't love a good monster story?  Who can resist a monster love story?  Limited edition fragrances inspired by the monsters and legends we love and their love stories.  An eclectic collection of fragrances available through Halloween!

 The 2020 Halloween Monsters in Love Collection

A Little Lighter Than Usual

 The Scent: A haunting and sheer fragrance, both beautiful and a little sad.

Soft notes of white musk, vanilla orchid, raw vanilla beans, tonka bean, bergamot, vanilla infused sugar, lily of the valley, and wet blackberries

The Story She was happy once, very happy. Newly married to the love of her life, happiness and a world of possibilities lay ahead of them. They say that you never know what you have until it is gone but this was never the case with her and her love. They cherished each other, lived for each other. They lay in the dark just talking for hours about nothing and everything.

They had given their entire selves to each other…but life has a funny way of rushing on without you when you are so absorbed in love. So it seemed that they lost their happiness quickly as well. They now passed each other, two ships in the night, seeming to never speak a word. In his eyes where she once found warmth and passion now only lay emptiness and regret. Even the air around them seemed heavier. At times it was hard for her to catch her breath. It was as if she was moving against an invisible tide, like being caught in a waking dream. She’d see him sitting quietly in deep contemplation and she would so desperately want to speak to him, to say anything, but the words just never seemed to come. She’d want to reach for him but something always made her keep her distance. He never even looked at her anymore. His eyes would drift in her direction at times, but it was as if he just didn’t see her.

She so desperately needed to know what came between them, how things changed so drastically. She struggled to remember anything, any tiny detail but it was just so hard to think. The only images her mind could conjure were of the driving rain on the windshield that black night, a blur of light and sound, and finally the image of her bare feet dripping water onto cold cement of the porch as she sat alone on the creaking swing waiting for him to open the door. Perhaps it was only her who had changed. She did feel strange these days, not quite herself…almost a little lighter then usual. If she could just somehow find her way back to him she knew they could be happy again. 

A Touch of Brimstone

The Scent:
The sweet base of bourbon vanilla and warm musk mingled with crushed tonka beans and resinous amber, dried chapparal and sandalwood, and smoked vetiver and nutmeg.

The Story
By chance she crossed his path. By chance his eyes found hers. When the curtain fell, it fell silently. The magic that hid him, the true him, from the world failed him. In those few moments, seconds at most, she had seen him. It was not the him that he presented to the world. That slipped away when he looked into those deep blue bottomless pools of her eyes and the memory came flooding back. What he used to be. What she used to be to him. Lifetimes ago. They had come full circle, back again through impossible spans of time and place. Yet here she was, face to face with a monster. Face to face with him. But still, she looked at him with all the knowing and and love of their past selves. Looked into the eyes of a thing, a terrible demon, and still her gentle warmth rushed towards him.

No he could not have it.  It had doomed them before, it couldn't be.  He'd spent centuries wish mongering for filthy people as a punishment, as a sacrifice that she may be at peace.  Oh the pain of those granted wishes. What was that spell again?   What was needed for forgetting....the dust of a star, an unspoken hope, a splinter of a soul, and just a touch of brimstone.

 

Abominably Adorable

The Scent: Abominably Adorable is sweet, warm, and utterly inviting. The scent of fire scorched marshmallows, steamed vanilla infused milk, a touch of fire warmed white amber, and a whisper of crushed alpine flowers.

 The Story:

Baby it's cold outside, but cold hands mean warm hearts. Always watching from the edges, always seeing love and life pass him by. He dreams of the day he'll find his own pretty lady to walk arm and arm with. He imagines their first date. He knows he can make it perfect. There would be ice skating...this time the ice would be thick enough. There would be hot cocoa and melting marshmallows by the fire....this time he'd only build a tiny fire. There would be an impromptu snowball fight...he'd make the snowballs MUCH smaller. The date would end with whispers and snuggles in a fluffy cozy blanket....this time he'd definitely not wrap the blanket up like a sack to "escort" his lady home.

He knows it will happen for him one day. What's not to love about a ten foot tall, fuzzy, humanoid who loves to bake, knit, and is partial to tassels? You know like they say, if at first you don't succeed, try, try again. So he sits in his ice cave knitting sweaters and cozies, snacking on marshmallows, and dreaming of the perfect lady to cuddle up with dreaming winter dreams.

Day of the Sugar Skull

 The Scent:
Sinisterly sweet, warm, and sultry. Notes of smoked vanilla pods splashed with bourbon, amber resin smothered with caramelized sugar, pomegranate soaked orchid petals, and spicy pink peppercorns all wrapped in a thin veil of delicate musk.
Fans of It's My Party Bad Girl Edition will enjoy this darker, slightly less sweet scent.

The Story
*****Story My Scent Contest Winner submission by Elizabeth from CA*****

Staring at the terracotta tiles filled with cracks and stains in her kitchen, Antonia pondered over the last few months, and wondered how she had ever managed to handle any of this.
The loss of her husband left a hole in her heart so deeply carved and hollow, she wondered if she would ever feel her whole self again. Her three children were too young, too sweet to understand that he really wasn't going to come back up through the dry, cracked earth to join his family again.

Today marked Dia de Los Muertos, Day of the Dead, and the children had been waiting for an opportunity to visit the grave of their father. In the early morning light, they scrambled out of their beds and into the kitchen, one after the other, pushing forward towards their mother and the air-dried sugar skulls they had made the day before. Between their fingers, the soft meringue powder and crystals of sugar felt like cool, wet sand sifted through the oceans of tears they had poured out over the last few months after their father's passing. They packed the sugar tight into their molds, and exhausted from the effort had fallen into their beds that night, letting the skulls get hard.

Antonia let her children stick their fingers into the icing to taste it before they began their favorite part: decorating. Some of them had saved feathers from outside, beads from old necklaces, and foil from candy wrappers all year round to bring color to the skulls. They furnished crowns, and stuck bottle caps into the sides for ears, but nothing could stop them from licking up all the icing from their fingers as they finger painted. The kitchen was filled with the smell of warm, sultry sugar.

They laid the skulls one by one next to the inscription carved out on the gravestone of their father, Julian Morillo. Antonia let them play out on the grass in the field, leaving the graves behind as she walked. But before leaving, turned around one more time to breathe in the warm vanilla sugar emanating off the heated skulls. She looked down at the skulls and gasped. Tears sprang to her eyes as she covered her mouth in disbelief.

The skulls had been bit into with a large, open bite on the top of each head. Antonio could not believe it. Did the dead hunger after death? Could Julian really have eaten up their gifts to him? She shook her head and breathed in raggedly.

Not so far off from the others, her youngest, Abella, rubbed her sticky hands on the grass and used her sleeve to wipe off all the sugar that was encrusted around her mouth. She finished chewing her last piece, and swallowed with a gulp. She couldn't wait till next November, when she could make sugar skulls for daddy, and eat them again for him, too.

 

Lovesick & Undead

The Scent: 

The scent of long lost love and mortality. 

Notes of antiqued woods, aged vanilla, smoked saffron, and a hint of dried rose and wildflower honey.

The Story

Vampires are old things.  They've walked the earth for centuries but in trade, lost everyone they've ever loved.  They tend to build up walls, and no one can really blame them.   Their greatest gift of immortality can also be their greatest pain.  It happens however, at least once, to even the hardest of vampires...they slip, they fall in love.  It may be the sun flecked highlights glistening in her hair, or her summer sky blue eyes.  She reminds him of his lost life, his lost humanity, his lost sun.  Once it happens, he falls in love fast and hard.    He loves her warmth, her delicate body, the passion and fear of life that all mortals possess.   He loves her mortality too much to turn her and as happens with all fragile humans the light of her life vanishes one day.  So he sits, locked away in the damp and dark pining for his lost love.  He obsesses over her memory, etching the details deep into his mind.  The days roll into years, years to centuries, and he walks on, alone and grieving for his lost love and  lost sun.

 

Of the Wolf

 

The Scent:  Molton amber, smoked vanilla, dried tobacco leaf, aged cedar, black pepper, fir needles, balsam wood smoke, and dried moss.

Warm, raw, animalistic.

The Story: There was running, always running,  moon. and the barrage of forest scents on the wind.  A hunger, a drive, and instincts that would not be ignored.  That is all he knew.  That is all he lived until he saw her.  By chance, a glimpse of straw colored hair through the trees.  He circled around, silent as only a predator can move,  and scented the air.  The forest he knew was there but also something new, something sweet.  He peered out from the thick of trees and that is when he saw the sun.  This sun did not live in the sky, this sun radiated out from her.  It was as if she carried the day with her.  She stood barefoot by the fire, all golden daylight and laughter.  She threw her head back and laughed as she trailed her fingers through the smoke and firefly embers.  He never wanted anything more.

He was ruled by the night but she was ruled by the day.  He was moonlight and silver, fur and fang and she was sun and gold, softness and skin.  He would find her again, his sun.  He would find her when his hands could catch that sunlight that spilled from her hair.

 

Stuck on You

The Scent: Notes of: sticky, melted fruit candy, dried cotton candy, a touch of strawberries and sweet musk. Stuck on You goes on candy sweet and melts beautifully into a smooth, mellow sugar musk

The Story:  You may not like The Blob at first. In fact, he can be downright annoying. But there is just something about his guy. He sort of grows on you after awhile. The Blob loves to cuddle, he’s a bit “touchy feely”. In fact this guy doesn’t know the meaning of the words “personal space”. While at first you may find the clinging a bit off putting, after a while you will start to relax into the arrangement. You will see that The Blob can be quite sweet once you give him a chance. He is one guy who will never stray far from you…or at least you will never stray far from him…ever.

The Shocking Moment

The Scent:

The Shocking Moment starts off with electric notes of rain and ozone, there is undertones of leather and dry wood, on a base of spice and smoked vanilla mixed with bridal flowers.  This is a very unique scent which dries down to a beautiful sweet, exotic vanilla mixed with florals and a hint of citrus from the ozone.
Notes of: amber, ozone, ice water, aged leather, dry woods, smoked vanilla, cardamom, moss, lily of the valley, and cyclamen.

The Story: She sat gazing at her reflection in the mirror.  Her dress was a beautiful antique ivory lace, her jet black hair piled perfectly high, her makeup….flawless.  Everything seemed so right yet she could not help but wonder if she was ready for the commitment.  Sure he wasn’t perfect, but who was?   He was big and brooding, a little clumsy at times.  Though he seemed gruff on the outside, he really was quite a softie inside.  He liked daisies and kittens and watching the rain, though he’d never admit that to his friends.  Oh who was she kidding?  He didn’t really have friends unless you count that creepy little lab geek he hung around with.   She just couldn’t stand the way he wrung his hands and the devilish smile that crossed his lips every time he saw her.  It was as if he was planning something.

What more could a girl ask for?  Yeah, she had caught him licking an outlet once.  She’d never quite figured that one out.  She just decided to put that out of her mind…that, and the slight green hue he had to his skin.  It must just be the lighting in her house.  Surely on their exotic island honeymoon he’d soak up some sun and look a little more…lively.  He had let her do all the planning.  He’s such a sweetheart like that.  She talked and talked a great long time about all the arrangements and he’d simply sat quietly and grunted his agreements.  Those were grunts of agreement, right?

Well, this had to be it.  She wasn’t getting any younger right?  Marriage proposals just don’t grow on trees and she was looking forward to moving out and into a bigger place.  She took a deep breath, summoned every ounce of confidence, pinched her cheeks for that rosy glow of excitement and flung opened the door.

She had no sooner stepped through the doorway when a heavy, musty bag was thrown over her  knocking her to the floor.  Their was some shuffling and mumblings on the other side of the bag and she was picked up and plopped down hard on a cold table.  She heard talking now and low chuckling.  The lab geek!  She could picture him with his obsessive hand wringing and creepy smile.  If this was his idea of a wedding joke…the little freak!  Well there was no way around it, as soon as they were married she’d make sure the little lab geek was history.   Her man didn’t need any friends now that he had her.  She began to feel very sleepy and despite her fury soon had fallen into a deep sleep.

She could hear before she could open her eyes.  She heard voices….the lab geek and her man’s grunting.  He was here!  He wasn’t supposed to see her in her dress before the ceremony.  She’d give him a earful.  He knew how important this day was for her, he’d better not ruin it.  The little freak said something about the storm and it being almost time.  She began to come into her senses now, her vision still a little blurry.  She was standing…how was she standing and sleeping?  She tried to move but found herself stuck.  Anger shook the rest of the grogginess from her and she was fully aware now.  Bottles and beakers, and strange instruments that sparked and sputtered surrounded her.  From her left she could hear a zapping noise as something flashed.  Her head was firmly held to the board behind her, her arms and legs buckled tight.  The little lab geek shuffled by her, looking her straight in the eyes, something he’d never done before.  He placed his hand on an over sized leaver next to him, paused with a strange triumphant looking in his eyes, and pushed the leaver down with all of his might.  In one quick movement, the board behind her dropped down, pulling her with it as it became her bed.  She was being raised up, higher and higher until she was sure she’d hit the ceiling.  Just as she was bracing for impact, huge hinges on the roof groaned to life and two large shutters flipped open.  There was the black night sky, rain beating down on her, terrible white flashes of lighting.  The realization hit her as hard as the icy rain…images flooded her head.  His green cast skin, the mysterious scars, the weird metal bolts in the sides of his neck, his affinity for electrical outlets, he creepy lab geek friend.  She just wasn’t ready to commit to him.
     
There was a white flash and blackness again, total blackness.
    
 She could hear sounds again before she could see.
     
“She’s alive!  She’s alive!”
     
As her eyes began to focus she saw her man staring at her blankly.  The lab geek laughed maniacally in the background.  She felt strange, not quite like herself.  She guessed this was what it felt like to be married.  She didn’t remember the ceremony at all.  Oh well, she was sure it was nice.

She just hoped there was still some cake left.

 

Wrapped Up in You

 

The Scent:

Notes of: Myrrh, warm milk, golden honey, frankincense, rosewood, old world spice, dried tobacco leaves, and incense smoke.  Wrapped Up in You goes on sweet and comforting and dries down to a more complex dry honey scent.

The Story

Older man seeking fresh young woman for a long term relationship.
He is warm and sensuous and loves comfortable nights at home.  His last relationship went a bit stale, so he is getting out in the dating scene again and looking for a new love.  This is one guy who doesn’t mind waiting for Ms. Right.  His courtship ritual is quite that, a ritual.  He’ll draw you a nice bath of warm milk swirled with golden honey.   After a good long soak he’ll provide you with only the finest cuddly cotton to dry you.  The mummy loves lavish scents (anything to cover up that pesky scent of  packing dust).  He will adorn you with myrrh and frankincense and perhaps the faintest touch of spice.  The Mummy is one guy who is not afraid of commitment.  Once he’s found the right girl, he’s in it for the long haul (and so is she).