A dialogue short story about the things we wake up to that remind us there are still things in this life worth waking up for. ante meridiem - [adv. & adj.] "before noon;" Abbr: A.M. Or a.m. [credit to owner of image (not me)]

Sometimes all you really need is a place to call home. * * * Being re-written completely as of May 14, 2021

((Originally, Phoenix)) “Leave me alone!” Her form flickered in the dim light. The brothers shared a look. “All right,” one started. “Just let us say something first. We know you have powers; we can sense them on you. We can do this because we have powers too. We call it magic. If you want, we can show you.” “Prove it then.” ~^~^~^~^~ There was a monster inside of her – a dark thing that always tried to claw its way out, ripping her insides to shreds as it went. She found no relief from it, maybe because she had no happy memories to find solace in, nor anyone to find comfort in. And yet, Amber could be the catalyst to setting a series of events that had been prophesied centuries before, into motion, bringing together three more people – the embodiments of the Emblems – to bring magic back to life. But in this underlying world of Adepts, Demons and secrets within secrets, unlocking their potential will be harder than you think. ~^~^~^~^~^ So, this is my 2014 Nanowrimo story, which is basically an attempt to rewrite Phoenix, where it shall go through major changes in plot, characters as well as effects of my new-and-improved writing style. I hope you enjoy it, and please give constructive criticism! {Also, the cover is temporary, till I find someone who can help me with it :P}

They both stood on the moon and stared down at the earth. Their reasons for it were different.

An old man's life hangs in the balance, will the apathy of family be his downfall, or the empathy of strangers his salvation? Written at the age of 13

The Tooth Fairy: A young child waits for the tooth fairy, but gets a nasty surprise... Wolves in Sheep's Clothing: An astronaut crashes her ship, but her rescuers are not who she thinks they are... Photo: Gaiam Vivendi Entertainment

Can a natural killer learn to be human again? Regan's unique talent for murder makes her a perfect assassin. After a lethal encounter leaves her broken body washed up on a beach, she finds herself adopted by a group of teenage bodyguards. She doesn't intend to stay for long, but soon Regan finds herself faced with a choice: become a hero or stay a villain? *** The boy played with the flat brim of the cap in his hands and looked around the room. He sat back in his chair, trying to look casual, but the heel of his hi-top sneaker drummed rapidly on the concrete floor. Regan sat opposite him with her legs crossed and her hands folded on her tartan skirt. She watched him without a word and brushed a strand of blue-dyed hair behind her ear. Somehow this seemed to unsettle him more. 'Calm down,' she said. 'It's just murder.' *** Author's Note: Darkness Girl: Trickster God is represented by Louise Fury from The Bent Agency. P.S. The epic cover was made by Paul Kopetko (you can stalk him at paulkopetko.com). Enjoy!

The first time I saw Adam Davis, he was at the casino. The second time he was dead. I have all the luck at making friends. It's a gift. I don't do murder cases. There's a more than even chance that you'll end up with an empty wallet and a bullet in your back. Adam was someone else's dirty business, and I didn't want to get pulled into it, but sometimes you don't get a choice... Author's note: This was a short story I submitted for a detective fiction competition in 2013.

Wired - WINNER OF THE WATTPAD GRAND PRIX! Kane, relic of a bygone society, forges his own way through the worlds of known space living on his wits and by his own set of iron morals. But others want his knowledge and his obedience. Sometimes all a man can do is choose his own path...

(Historical Fiction / Action) - Gunslinger: I may be feared and admired, but I call nowhere home. My gun and my skill define my existence. I was born fast, and endless practice has made me the best. For now. A brief rush of adrenaline. Noise, the smell of cordite, and one of us crumples to the dust. This time it was him. I leave nothing but dried blood in the sand...