My first novel!

This book has been a real labour of love! It’s something I hope you lovely readers will enjoy, perhaps during a long flight? 🙂 Here’s a pic of the new front cover with an accompanying synopsis, and link to the teaser book trailer to whet your appetite!

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Julian, a mixed race boy from a broken home is 17 and in his last year of sixth form. After losing his mother in sudden and mysterious  circumstances, he grew up with hate and resentment in his heart. His loving father, unable to tame him lives a life unfulfilled. Julian has long since lost faith in religious and academic institutions.  God, to him, is nothing but a 3 letter word said by the delusional.

But, he’s about to be thrown in the middle of a war between two beings from a realm above the heavens. A war that transcends time and space, whose battle ground has become the very fabric of existence itself. Its warriors, like fallen Angels, live among us — hidden within a program designed for their rehabilitation.

Julian will rediscover beliefs and emotions he had long since discarded, have them brutally tested, witness things no other mortal man has — and through these trials discover the true meaning of faith.

Official book trailer is here!


© Alpha Maurice Cidade Cauwenbergh – Storyteller, Poet & Intern at Wordsmith Inc 2015. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Alpha Maurice Cidade Cauwenbergh – Storyteller, Poet & Intern at Wordsmith Inc with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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🌀Haiku 23 – Sunil


© Alpha Maurice Cidade Cauwenbergh – Storyteller, Poet & Intern at Wordsmith Inc 2019. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Alpha Maurice Cidade Cauwenbergh – Storyteller, Poet & Intern at Wordsmith Inc with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

A very short piece about infidelity

Death, Strawberry & Friends

 

The eyes are windows to the soul, but if you see death, do you become it? If you see love end, how long should you stay in the void that’s left? Look into the eyes of the devil and he looks back at you, stare long enough and you become friends.

The door is open, and Senya see’s red – the hair of a women. Her back is beautiful, just the way she’s always wished her’s could be. Senya’s breathing is soft like a stalking animal, as she watches them on her bed. No meaningful thought has passed through her head since she got there, just her heart beating faster and faster while it leaks love. The red haired woman was writhing on top of him. Senya felt sick in her stomach. She watched the man she’s showed off to all her friends, grab Red’s posterior the way he would grab her before climax. The flesh of her perfectly plump ass rose through his fingers under the pressure. His breathing was heavy, and his grip was producing enough force to lift her weight & moisture off his hips, he was taking control from her.

Senya was slowly freeing herself of the numbness, the warmth of rage was beginning to fill her cold clammy hands. This raised awareness brought more pain, both their passionate moans were now clear and gut wrenching. Red was saying things that Senya never did, allowing acts to be performed on her she never could, and he was euphoric. He forced himself inside her repeatedly as he held her petite body up off him, the sound of it was undoing Senya’s sanity. His passion turned to aggression, aggression turned to violence, and Red loved it – encouraging it as her body and hair bounced like a rag doll. They both screamed in pleasure as if they knew she was watching, her soul dying as they performed for the demons below.

Senya started to cry, how could Joe do this to her…? He said that she was just a friend, that there was nothing to worry about. Last week, even claiming she was acting like a jealous bitch, and it was unattractive. The last tear of sadness fell from her face, it landed on the cold kitchen blade in her hand. As it cooled on the stainless steel, so did her temperament.

The words “Death to Red, and all her friends” gently escaped from her mouth. They were the last words Senya ever said. A warm vapor dammed to the underworld – like her soul.

By Alpha Maurice Cidade Cauwenbergh


© Alpha Maurice Cidade Cauwenbergh – Storyteller, Poet & Intern at Wordsmith Inc 2019. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Alpha Maurice Cidade Cauwenbergh – Storyteller, Poet & Intern at Wordsmith Inc with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

A bit of introspection on the train home…

My character & the coin

I had a relationship with patience.

She would calm me with a pause before my lips.

When hunger emptied my core, she’d fill it with a soft aroma.

Any doubts that lay with me, she could cast away with one question.

But i never loved her.

My head was turned – i saw a beauty that promised to fulfil my every desire.

We would sweat our bodies sore caressing spherical wants. She made me a better player than i was.

Wrapped up warm in front of a fire we poured every fantasy into pages that turned over quietly – perpetually, like her, like me. She made me a better writer than i was.

She was the opposite of patience, a constant need for the now. However, i couldn’t have known one without the other.

My greatest weakness, becomes my greatest strength – two sides, same character, same coin.

By Alpha Cauwenbergh

Haiku No.20 – Days Of Future Past

🌀Haiku No.20 – Days Of Future Past.

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A heart felt experiment in haiku structure. what do you feel?

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The aim was to tell a story, where the first two lines worth of syllables where comprised of only two words. Words who’s connection to the last line would become more meaningful when related to each other, and not just in the context of this miscarriage.