Psylocke Sideshow

Guts and gore galore! American Sideshow is a bizarre, macabre, and intense dark thriller. War and poker brought them together. Robbing banks with chainsaws will tear them apart! Follow this trio on their path of bloodshed. Travis Madden took a blast from an RPG and lost an eye and a leg. He is a scarred up and emotionally mangled mess. Sue "Godkiller" Grant is a homicidal maniac with an insatiable need for intensity, and to feel alive. Olivia McNamara is an assistant bank manager looking to change her mundane existence, the mastermind. Detective Diego Cavalera will stop at nothing to hunt this mentally depraved trio down, and bring them to justice, with the help of the law or not.

A boy in love. A sudden confession. Something less and something more than love.

After the death of his wife during childbirth, Mr Vlamorae slowly deteriorates into an insufferable man. Blaming his new daughter on his wife's death, he alienates her and avoids her as much as possible. Consumed by greed and struggling to find a living after being fired, he sells his poor daughter, Tae, to local sideshow owner, Brian MacSeren. Overcome with confusion, misery, and disdain for her father, Tae embraces the new lifestyle and forms an unbreakable bond with MacSeren's young son, Reginald. However, things around the circus change when the circus is abruptly left in Reggie's inexperienced hands and the reality of growing into adulthood brings unexpected and horrifying transformations to young Tae... *STRONG TRIGGER WARNING. NOT SUITED FOR SENSITIVE/YOUNG READERS* Demon Book 1

From Japan to Sweden, from Tokyo to Gothenburg. One month in an alien world. Four weeks to fall in love. A Transition and Restart Short Story Sideshow.

Transiting into a new world. Restarting your life. A second chance. But... what about those left behind? A Transition and Restart sideshow. Short story, completed at publication.

Tremors rattled the earth. Cars, swerving to avoid fresh potholes, teetered dangerously close to the bridge's edge. Amidst agitated horning, traffic abruptly came to a halt. All eyes turned to look at a set of footsteps making its way down the aisle of vehicles. Not feet; footsteps. As though willed by some supernatural force, gigantic craters opened one after another, gouged deeply in the asphalt. And by the rapidly accelerating production of the footsteps, it became painstakingly clear that whatever invisible entity the indentations belonged to was making its way down the bridge. Taxi drivers, parents, students and businessmen alike stared helplessly as the fissures advanced, too shell-shocked to move or even utter a word. Nobody dared to tear their gaze from the footsteps, even as they slowed to a stop, and a tiny, miniscule voice called out amidst newly-formed swimming pools. "The hell are ya'll staring at? I ain't a fucking ant-sized sideshow. Show's over, bastards, and it's a fucking Wednesday - the city won't damn well run itself!"