Soon he would be able to touch her, to feel the warmth of her blood. When the time came, nothing would stop him.

Smiles were rare in this house. Smiles had to be bought and paid for.

The best way of keeping a low profile was to immerse himself in the mundane. Act like them, talk like them. A smile, a joke was all it took - at least during the day. The night was his own.

Their attention was focused on the strange kid who wore black eyeliner and dressed as if every day was a funeral.

I knew we were not alone, but there was something in the air, something good and pure that reassured me. It’s a beautiful energy, and has been with me ever since.

It is my greatest wish that victims of paranormal attack are treated with the respect and compassion they deserve, and that by writing this book, it will encourage others to come forward and share their stories also.