I’m an international, multiple award-winning author with a passion for the voices in my head. As a singer, songwriter, independent filmmaker and improv teacher and performer, my life has always been about creating and sharing what I create with others. Now that my dream to write for a living is a reality, with over a hundred titles in happy publication and no end in sight, I live in beautiful Prince Edward Island, Canada, with my giant cats, pug overlord and overlady and my Gypsy Vanner gelding, Fynn.

Being super doesn't come with a training manual.

No.3 plucked me out of my wheelchair and securely strapped me into a three point harness before I could even think to fight, not that I could have struggled much. He ignored me and left me there, carrying my folded chair out with him. I gaped, unable to breathe or think, watching him exit and approach a white-coated man who turned when No.3 spoke to him.

I knew that scientist. "Dad!"

He glanced at me and I felt a shudder of cold drive through my stomach. It was like he didn't see me at all.

Sixteen-year-old Wyatt Simons has spent his entire life in a wheelchair, raised by his nanny Abigail since his scientist father wants nothing to do with him. That's why Wyatt is so shocked when his dad has him brought to his secret underground lab where Wyatt is exposed to a secret military experiment, one that transforms his body beyond all expectations. But physical changes can do nothing to erase the fact his father still treats him like he's in the way, or help find the dangerous saboteur undermining the project.

The Hercules Project

I hit the wind tunnel for some flying time to clear my mind and was just starting to enjoy myself, my thoughts losing their dark cloud, when the usual soldier's voice rang out over the intercom.


"All, um, test personnel report to the main lab. All test personnel."


He meant me, or at least the tech running the controls thought he did. I felt the air cut off and floated to the floor, miffed at being called "test personnel," but figured they were having trouble coming up with something politically correct. I overheard the term "supers" many times in reference to us and wondered why they didn't use it. Not that I cared, but test personnel brought up images of lab rats and endless mazes.


I was the last one to make it to the lab, earning me a scowl from Dad. I scowled right back and sank onto a table, arms crossed over my chest, only a couple of hours away from his latest insult and the edge that had yet to wear off.


Chapter 28