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
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
*****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.
The Scent:
Notes of antiqued woods, aged vanilla, smoked saffron, and a hint of dried rose and wildflower honey.
The Story
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.
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.
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.
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).
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