I am because I write...

My mother recently showed me pictures of the first story I’d written and illustrated, before the age of eight.

To be honest, I’d fallen into the writing profession quite by accident, but when I think back on it I’d always been destined to write. As a teen, and even now, the thought of having to choose a singular path when there is such a tremendous amount of information available in the world and so many different trades, industries and vocations to choose from scared me to no end.

One day I wanted to be a meteorologist, the next I was interested in psychology, then I would want to be a chef, another day would see me interested in forensic pathology, then scriptwriting, then being a musician, then studying pharmacology and so on and so forth. It was only once I’d become a writer by profession that I realised that this vocation would give me the opportunity to not only learn about all these things, but also be all these people—even if just for a moment in time.

My writing, like my art, is diverse. As a copywriter, I work with varying content and topics such as financial blogging, web content writing, brand conceptualisation, corporate communication, advertising script writing, film script editing, academic editing, translation and more. In my personal capacity as writer, I have published one psychological thriller, one hilariously outrageous erotic-horror out and two collections of poetry. My next horror novel will be released before the end of 2018 with the follow-up erotic-horror satire and contemporary fiction also in the works for 2019.

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What would you do if a monster from your past reappears? And what if this monster doesn’t recognise you?

After building a new life for herself far from her home town where her innocence was stolen, Sam meets the man who’d abducted her years before. But things are complicated. Sam had been wrong before. Moreover, at 22 she has fallen in love for the first time. She cannot afford to tell anyone what is going on. But when he strikes again too close to home, Samantha knows she has to act fast. And she can’t tell anyone what she’s about to do…

Sergeant Gayle Oliver has been tracking her killer for months. As a loner with baggage of her own, she wonders if she can catch him before she has to tell another family that their precious child’s life has been stolen. She knows she’s chasing against time.

Gordon is special. He hasn’t always known this, but after ma went away, everything became much clearer to him. He has a job to do. The gods will show him… The gods will protect him…

Consequence tells the story of the repercussions of our actions. It speaks of the enduring consequences of generations of racial segregation, abuse and social inadequacy. It’s also a story about coming of age, the resilience of self and forgiveness. Set to the backdrop of post-apartheid South Africa, the plot doesn’t shy away from themes which dig into the deepest darkness of South African society.

Kindle eBook


collected thoughts/versamelde gedagtes

a’musing/a’musant is a collection of musings spanning two decades.

The publication includes previously unpublished works, as well as those which had previously been published in eBook format, paperback and on online and social media channels.

Originally the work will have been only in English and I’d purposely excluded some of the poetry—thinking it juvenile or unpolished. After a whiles, however, I’d come to realise that much of these works represent my journey as a writer and for purely sentimental reasons I’d decided to include some of the works from my youth as well as those in my mother tongue, Afrikaans.

I guess it’s a great part of me and of my country—the way that we operate and think in a multilingual way in all our dealings and throughout our days. Although English is the lingua franca, there are more mother-tongue Afrikaans speakers than English speakers in South Africa, spanning races.

Had I been proficient in one or more of our other beautiful languages I will undoubtedly have included poetry in those languages as well.

Amazon Paperback

Kindle eBook

Amazon Paperback

Carnal Casualties: The Book of Amorous Blows

Vol.1: Fact & Friction

Carnal Casualties is a collection of flash fiction and short stories which pokes fun at the hilarious vulgarity of pornography and erotic fiction.

The entire series pivots on a counterbalance between erotic innuendo and comedic horror.

Covers and titles have been deliberately chosen to draw readers into the narrative, where the titles are actualised quite punnily through a sequence of events which are hysterically tragic.

Though the content of each individual story is not quite as outrageous as the titles may suggest, there is still a bit of romping and—since the subject matter is an exaggeration of the garish side of human nature—is not suitable for young readers or those who prefer happy endings (see what I did there?).

Fact & Friction is the first volume in the series and contains the following titles:

  1. Made Me Come
  2. A Tight Fit
  3. Deflowering
  4. Stroking Dick
  5. Balls Deep
  6. Heavy Petting
  7. Unprotected Sex
  8. She’s Too Young
  9. Backdoor Action
  10. Teacher’s Pet
  11. Her First Time
  12. Rim Job

Kindle eBook

Kindle eBook


a book of tiny poetry

Years was the first poetry publication I released.

It contains some of my earlier work, a total of 27 poems, including:

Figment of Love, that once was, Lillian, A Languishing, such is life, The day we shall meet, End of day, The road to the sea, Changing ways, So slow, the winding mind, to be one, Consummation, anatomically astronam-us, You, Nothing seems to happen, A little death, RICE, expectation, secrets, Beautiful things, The Calculation, Essence of being, Thanksgiving, The heart, Indelible waiting, ill-timed tides.


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Book extract…

Oh, I know. You don’t have to tell me. I know she’s sitting there staring at me. Has been for weeks now. Even as my pen scratches this paper I can hear her scratching that damned floor. I’d like to say that one gets used to a sound like that, but you never really do. The sound of nails scratching anything is simply unnatural, don’t you agree?
The first few weeks I thought, quite foolishly (you know, as one does when someone else is acting so irrationally), that she was trying to file her nails against the floor. And I remember thinking how silly that was. I thought it was a child(ish) thing to do. Also – I’d never quite tried to reason with her. Not that she would listen. I know that now. It would have been futile from the start.
After three years, seven months and twenty-one days – I can honestly say she is doing it just as a statement. She’s not even trying to claw her way out of here. Not that we’d ever confined her to this room – or any room for that matter. She’s free to leave. Damned thing just won’t!
Oh how I wish she would leave.

To be expected

Book extract…

For weeks after I would look for signs. Signs I knew full well did not exist, or if found—would be tenuous at best. But this is what we do under the pressure of tragedy – we delve into the past and assemble belated pillows around the grand event to cushion the blow – telling ourselves that it all could have been easier. We tell ourselves that tragedy is better under different circumstances. Had something been done slightly different, or done at a different time. Of if you’d behaved otherwise. As if it would make all the difference. It’s a calculation—you are trying to find an equation where life does not equal death. Or an equation where life at least leads to a softer death. Something palatable. A slow and romantic dance to a demise which is digestible.
The hardest part of it all was the realisation that I would have to disembark here. That this little lifeboat I was on would not sustain me. I was supposed to start from scratch. I was hoping to delay this new journey. Because journeys need preparation. They’re not Ad Hoc.
I had the luck of finding out about Harry’s infidelity, and his death, on a Friday. Although I can’t quite recall what I did with those extra hours, I was sure it would have been worse had it been during the week…