Direct sequel to Binding but this makes sense as a standalone.

I knew I was doing the right thing.

I just wish it didn’t have to hurt so much.

It was strange, hidden in the heavy rain, body wound tight like a cat about to pounce, watching the mobsters and gangsters move across the oil platform. It was my first time I would be doing anything like this, yet my mind couldn’t escape the fact that I had hurt someone.

The Suit wasn’t made for me; it was made for the world. We, as a team, wanted to save the world, so we designed a suit that could protect anyone no matter the cost.

I stole it because he scared me. There was this look in Hector’s eyes that didn’t seem right. This greed, this insatiable thirst for something he was too scared to say out loud, and of course I understood that. I wanted things for the world too.

Continue reading “Baby”


How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Defuse the Bomb

Straight ahead of her: A highly skilled mercenary with a kill count in the triple digits.


Above her: A nuclear missile about to annihilate many innocent lives.

All around her: A team of vigilantes fighting off against hordes of goons atop an oil platform.

Way, way above her: Victor Cauchmeer, a mad scientist bent on wreaking the most havoc he could wreak. His mission was to be on the cover of Villain’s Monthly in a flattering way at least twice.

“There’s nothing you can do,” Lydia Irving, famed mercenary, smirked, her body finally loosening after a drawn out brawl. “The bomb is going to nail your little city whether you beat me or not.”

Make that a kill count in the septuple digits.


Continue reading “How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Defuse the Bomb”

The Amscray Gang

“Aw criminy, guys! It’s the Nightmare! Amscray!”

She had only just landed on the girder and they were already terrified of her. Cape still wavering from her landing, Nightmare looked up at the gallery of goons spread out before her. Salvatore Cagan’s gang had just robbed a laboratory of some valuable and possibly destructive tech. their chase with the police had lead them into a construction zone.

Cagan’s men were organized, making death defying leaps with no fear in their blood. They leapt from girder to girder, swinging back and forth as their weight rocked the chains suspending the steel bars in the air. Eventually, their trail had gone cold.

But not for the Nightmare.

Continue reading “The Amscray Gang”