Once called devil winds, the Santa Anas sweep down through the Los Angeles basin carrying death and destruction. For one woman, in one short season of her life, the winds also carried a perfect and treacherous personal storm. Caught up in a dangerous relationship of lies, secrets, and illusions, realizing she is going to die, she begins a desperate struggle for survival. Isolated and alone, her foundation completely swept away, she walks the tightrope between life and death as she faces down devil winds in the City of Angels. Harrowingly dark yet surprisingly funny, SORRY I WAS NO FUN AT THE CIRCUS is a story of love and rage, sickness and health, hope and fear, all bound up in the most fundamental and profoundly human story of all: the attempt to discover understanding and meaning in the most stunning betrayals and disappointments of life. Reading like a psychological thriller, the book is a very intimate personal narrative of the complexities involved in The Judas Jilt Syndrome. Delivering a haunting version of Los Angeles, the historical details poignant, the book is also a disturbing portrait of a troubled relationship, of the fear, hope, and loss each person must face in life, an examination of the religion and philosophy many lean on to guide them on their journey. Heartbreaking and timeless, the appeal is universal. For readers who liked Out of Africa or The Stranger, this book will not disappoint. For anyone who has ever lost a loved one to cancer, anyone who has ever suffered, or anyone who ever will, this book is a must read. It is important, for it illuminates a very disturbing but all too common phenomenon, still a mystery to most.