Books
Shadow Dancers
In a world where every shadow hides a demon, two sisters discover they have the rare power to control these dark entities. But when a rogue demon is unleashed, they must master their abilities and uncover a dangerous family secret to save humanity—and themselves.
Shadow Dancers is book 1 of the ongoing Shadow Demons Series.
Out of a Dream
Available Late 2025.
A young boy discovers his dreams hold the key to an extraordinary destiny in Algarle. Thirteen-year-old Liam must embrace his dual role as High King and the powerful Daunt King to battle his treacherous uncle, unlock ancient secrets, and unite a fractured kingdom before darkness consumes the realms.
Out of a Dream is book 1 in the on going Daunt King of Algarle Series.
The Last Night Shift
On Hold Temporarily.
During a Christmas Eve shift at a toy store, Jason faces a terrifying supernatural turn of events as cosmic forces signal the end of days. Battling against strange visions and sinister threats, Jason must fight to get home and save his family before time runs out.
This book is unfinished and is no hold.
Part of this book is available to read for free HERE.
Shadow Dancers
The following is an extract from Shadow Dancers
Overwhelmed, Amelia stood up abruptly, her chair clattering to the floor as she bolted for the door. She ran down the corridor, her vision blurred by tears. Bursting into the girls' bathroom, she flung open a stall door. It crashed into the side of the cubicle, causing the whole frame to shake. She locked the door behind her with a click and collapsed onto the toilet lid, sobbing uncontrollably.
The cold, sterile bathroom walls seemed to close in around her as her tears flowed freely. She hugged herself tightly, trying to muffle her sobs, each cruel word and mocking laugh echoing in her mind like a fresh wound. In the cramped, isolated cubicle, Amelia let out all the pain she had been holding in, the emotional weight pressing down on her until she could barely breathe.
Amelia was sobbing silently in the cubicle, too consumed by her tears to notice the change in atmosphere. The air turned icy cold, the metallic scent of the pipes intensifying as it wrapped around her like a damp, chilling cloak. She shivered, her breath visible in the sudden frigidness, each exhale a fleeting cloud of mist. The sharp, sterile smell of the bathroom cleaner mixed with the faint, musty odor of old tiles, creating a nauseating blend that made her stomach churn.
"Why does she cry?" a voice whispered in a hiss.
Amelia, taken by surprise, stopped crying. She sniffled, trying to control herself as she listened. The voice seemed to seep from the very walls, low and sinister, echoing in the cold, tiled space.
"Why does the little witch cry?" the voice hissed again, louder this time.
"Who's there?" Amelia shouted, her voice trembling. "Leave me alone."
"Alone, yes, that's what you are—alone and unloved," the voice continued, its tone dripping with malice.
"Stop it, whoever you are!" Amelia stormed. She pressed her back against the cold, ceramic tiles, feeling their chill through her thin shirt.
"The little witch can't even stand up to those pitiful humans."
Amelia's heart pounded in her chest, each beat a painful thud in her ears. She felt a prickling sensation on her skin, as if tiny needles were pressing into her. "That's enough! Go away, whoever you are. I'm not in the mood."
Suddenly, Amelia felt a searing pain in her head, like hot coals being pressed against her skull. "You are weak, little witch. You can't control me. Let me deal with these fools. Let me take control."
"No, get out of my head," Amelia pleaded, her voice breaking. She could taste the metallic tang of fear on her tongue, bitter and sharp.
"This is the way it is meant to be. One of us must have control, and you are too weak," the voice hissed louder now. A strange wind began to rage in the bathroom like a hurricane, swirling papers and rustling through the cracks in the walls. "Give in. Give in."
"NOOOO!" Amelia screamed, the sound echoing off the tiles, her voice mingling with the howling wind.
"Give in, you foolish girl," the demon drilled into her mind.
Amelia winced in pain as the demon attempted to take control of her mind. The icy wind whipped around her, stinging her cheeks and tearing at her hair. "Show yourself, you coward!" she taunted, desperate to see what she was up against.
In an instant, out of her own shadow, the demon appeared. Its black skin, streaked with red veins, pulsed with an otherworldly energy. The air around it seemed to crackle with electricity, the scent of sulfur filling Amelia's nostrils. Its huge, horned head was inches away from Amelia's face. One clawed hand engulfed Amelia's head while the other moved to her neck, its grip like iron. It snarled, "Let me take control."
Amelia, close to total panic, realised she couldn't hold out against this demon. She decided her only choice was to go on the attack. She reached up with both hands and grabbed the demon's head. Through the pain, she reached out with her own mind, searching for any sense of an opening. The rough, scaly texture of the demon's skin was almost unbearable under her fingers.
"Give in," the demon roared, its breath hot and fetid against her face.
In a last frantic attempt to stay in control, Amelia forced her mind into the demon's. The connection was a jolt, like ice water pouring into her veins.
"No, what are you doing?" The demon began to recoil from Amelia's touch. "Get out! No!" Pain laced the demon's voice, and Amelia's own pain began to subside.
"No, please! AHHH! Enough!" the demon began to break. "I give in. Get out of my head. I submit to you."
A sense of relief washed over Amelia as she withdrew her mind, exhausted from the battle. She breathed a heavy sigh, feeling the cold air fill her lungs. The demon retreated back into her shadow, and the bathroom returned to its previous stillness. She felt the rough surface of the stall door under her fingers as she steadied herself, the scent of fear slowly dissipating.
After a few moments, Amelia felt recovered enough to try and communicate again. "I know you're still there. What's your name?" she demanded, her voice steadier than she felt.
"Goatandrious," the voice hissed back defiantly, its tone laced with resentment.
"Okay, Goatandus, why did you attack me?" Amelia pressed.
"Goatandrious is my name, and I attacked because I thought you were a weak little witch," the demon replied, each word dripping with contempt.
"My name is Amelia. Make sure you remember that, Goatan. Well, I think I'm just going to call you Goat," Amelia declared with newfound confidence.
"Goatandrious, littl... Amelia," the demon seemed to correct itself, giving Amelia a begrudging level of respect.
"I can't pronounce that, so I will call you Goat," Amelia repeated, standing her ground.
"I don't like that, but you are in command," the demon conceded, its tone slightly more respectful but still simmering with defiance.
Amelia sighed again as the demon withdrew for now. She stood up, straightening her clothes and brushed away the last of her tears.
The bell rang for lunch, and with a newfound confidence, Amelia left the bathroom. She walked through the corridors with her head held high, feeling a strength she hadn't felt before. As she approached the cafeteria, the noise and chatter of students filled the air, but for once, she felt ready to face it.
Out of a Dream
The following is an extract from Out of a Dream
The huge creature lay on the oversized, four-poster bed. Large, muscular arms were placed across its chest as it rose serenely up and down with the rhythm of its sleeping breath. The green fur that covered its body waved like a soft breeze through a meadow of grass with each inhale, creating a soft hum. Two sharp canine teeth protruded from its upper jaw, giving it the look of a powerful and formidable beast, but its peaceful features, though youthful, showed that this creature was also one of intelligence.
A strange, radiant blue glow seemed to emanate from around the creature, as if creating a magical cocoon to protect it during its slumber. An energy resonated from the glow, which lightly fizzed in the quiet atmosphere.
Kneeling by the side of the bed was another creature, similar to the one that slept, its head resting in the palms of its large hands. The fur on this creature was also green, but there were patches of brown resembling a muddy field.
Beside it knelt a man with blond hair, who wore a light tunic emblazoned with the crest of his people. A scar ran across the left side of his forehead, an old war wound from many battles. The man, though tall, barely came to the creature's shoulder, emphasising the sheer size difference between the two.
Two torches burned on either side wall, casting flickering light across the room and giving off a light crackle, which merged with the sound the blue glow emitted. The man and the creature mumbled quietly in the dim light as if in prayer, creating an otherworldly atmosphere. They knelt for long moments in prayer before a new noise seemed to prick at their attention—a faint buzzing sound that for a moment had no source.
The large creature's ears twitched as it registered the sound, and it shifted its head to peer into the room through its fingers, noticing a wasp of considerable size enter the room through the large, arched doorway at the far end. It watched the wasp with casual interest as the man slowly rose to his feet and retreated to the side wall. He sat on the bench against the wall and watched the wasp with a concerned look as it began to circle the room.
It flew past the large bench on the other side of the room where a tapestry hung, depicting a ferocious battle of creatures similar to the one that lay on the bed against a force of men almost ten times its size. Some of the creatures seemed to be shooting fire from their hands as if commanding it, while others were surrounded by the same blue glow that came from the bed.
As the wasp made its way around the room, its decreasing circles seemed to draw it closer to the bed with each rotation. The large creature now watched the wasp with full interest as it came closer to the blue glow. Then, suddenly, a cracking sound filled the room as the wasp finally touched the glow and was sent shooting across the room, hitting the side wall and causing the man to jump out of the way. It fell to the floor in a charred, smoking lump.
The man got back to his feet and dusted off his tunic as a deep rumbling sound erupted from the kneeling creature's throat as it began to laugh. "Poor wasp never stood a chance against that forcefield, eh, Balron?"
Balron straightened his clothes as he looked at the charred wasp. "Hmm, you're right Caine, I'm just glad I didn't lean in too close to your brother, wouldn't want to test it myself."
The faint smell of burnt insect wafted through the room, mixing with the earthy aroma given off by the creatures.
Caine rose and placed a light slap on Balron's shoulder. "Oh, I'm sure I would have only gotten another story about how you've had worse."
Balron shrugged and let out a short laugh. "Well, with all the years of battle and hardships I've seen, Caine, I usually have had worse."
Caine laughed deeply as he walked over to where the wasp lay, charred on the floor. He bent down, picked it up between his finger and thumb, and held it to his nose, breathing in the smell. The smoke still coming from the wasp shot up Caine's nose, causing him to sneeze. He looked closer at the wasp before deciding it was safe. He placed it into his mouth and began to chew.
The wasp crunched between his teeth as he chewed a few times before swallowing. "Waste not, want not, Balron."
Caine wrinkled up his nose in disgust as the taste of the wasp hit his tongue, but once the initial taste had gone, Caine smiled a huge, toothy grin. "Hmmm, delicious."
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