Dead Leaves — The Spooky Apple Cider Wax Melt
Our most chilling best-seller returns each fall: the apple cider wax melt, steeped in the legend of Dead Leaves. The story tells of a woman hanged as a witch, her final breath drifting through the orchard and souring every harvest that followed. When the wax begins to melt, her curse awakens again, carrying the scent of crisp apples sharpened by lemon and cedar leaf, with branches shivering in pine and spiced cider.
As the pearlescent surface shimmers, sweetness collapses into musk and dying flowers, filling the room with a fragrance as unsettling as footsteps behind you in the dark. This is not the cozy cider of festivals and firesides. It is the ghost of the season itself, a spectral perfume woven from orchard rot, cold earth, and bitterness carried on the wind.
Each clamshell is crafted from 100% soy wax and holds six easy-to-break cubes, offering hours of haunting scent with no flame required. Beneath the black lid rests her story, waiting to be read by those who are brave enough to know how it ends.
Apple
Cedar
Clove
- No Phthalates or Toxins
- Pet Safe
- vegan
- No flame required!
Care
Care
- Always trim your wood wick before each light! Simply pinch off the charred wood from the previous light, or use a wick trimmer for a cleaner cut. Wicks should be about 1/4" each time the candle is lit. The most common reason for wood wick candles not staying lit is a wick that is too long.
- In order to ensure your candle will not tunnel over time, give your candle ample time to melt to the edge the first time you light it. This can take up to 4 hours
- remember not to light the candle near anything flammeble: fabrics, curtains, house plants, etc. Keep candle away from pets and children. Do not light for longer than 4 hours at a time. Be careful handling candle when it is lit as the jar can be very hot.
Let me tell you a story...
Among the dead leaves atop Witches Hill Sits a lonely tree with branches that kill
'Twas not the tree's fault for this, you see But the villagers below Who marched uphill with glee
Now a lonely black cat sits beneath that tree With sorrow in its heart Watching feet dangle free
For that lonely tree stole its friend that eve And sadly, dear friends, that friend was me
But before I breathed my last breath at my end
I laid a curse on the village That I'd have my revenge
