Tomson and the Afterlife

When cancer stole Mandy’s brilliant 24-year-old son Tomson, she thought her heart would never beat properly again.

She was wrong.

Tomson came straight back – cheeky as ever – balancing teabags on mug rims, rearranging road signs to spell “LA BOO HERE” for his dad, tugging her hair at 3 a.m., and hijacking fat-freezing machines mid-treatment. He’s levitated a salt funnel, moved a sculpture, photobombed Brazilian water-vapour experiments, sent heart-shaped bruises popping up on total strangers, and even booked his own medium appointments from the other side.

This isn’t a polite, misty-eyed grief memoir. This is a northern mum’s raw, laugh-through-the-tears account of the filmed, photographed, and recorded evidence that death couldn’t shut her son up. With QR codes throughout linking directly to the actual videos, audio EVPs, and images, Tomson and the Afterlife lets you see – and hear – the proof for yourself.

Heartbreaking, hilarious, and soaked in stubborn Teesside love, Mandy’s story is for anyone who’s ever lost someone and desperately needed to know: are they really still here? If a lad from Yarm can send sunset tulips via a medium, make a cat suddenly adore Chopin, and orchestrate an elephant appearing on a laptop screen the second his mum gives up hope of ever seeing one, then maybe “goodbye” is just a word we haven’t learned to spell properly yet.

For fans of Suzanne Giesemann’s Still Right Here and Annie Kagan’s The Afterlife of Billy Fingers – grab a brew, some tissues, and maybe a biscuit.

Tomson’s waiting to prove the impossible.

One-click now. He’s already nudging your cursor.