Marsha L Ceniceros
Bio
Marsha L. Ceniceros is a prolific author with novels covering various genres, including science-fiction, fantasy, thrillers, and horror. She is also an accomplished poet, nonfiction writer, and child abuse advocate.
Stories (7)
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Untold
It was chilly outside, the wind furiously driven as if it carried the untold mystery. Another sleazy hooker laid silently on the autopsy table. Detective Kevin Taylor glanced up to that wall clock, then checked his watch for the twenty-seventh time. Every dead body brought back that same thought, “Could my marriage of lasted if I accepted that security position?” Lawyers, divorce, and the expense stressed him to the point of seeing a shrink for a while. But, oh, his love for his wife never parted. With a leave of absence for three months and Detective Taylor was one to fear upon his return. No one in law enforcement dared joke with him. His weight loss exceeded eighty-five pounds; even though his height was close to six feet, he still carried his weight well. Debbie, his ex-wife, didn't wear make-up or dressed -up much. Nature and keeping things healthy and natural were her style, which he loved about her. A natural redhead, born and raised in the heart of Chicago. She never wanted to move away, no matter how he tried when the marriage began falling apart; yeah, those late nights investigating, murders, shootings, and searching for the bad guys had a lot to do with it.
By Marsha L Ceniceros4 years ago in Fiction
I Hear You
Create according to one's imagination. The perfect ratio is designed to blossom an eternal species of intellect and harmony. At least, it was the intent. Many believed that they were born for a purpose to alter destiny. Although the valid reason that few understood is that there was no specific reason, humans created those theories. The human race has been blessed with a gift. A world is given to each of them equally to love, blossom, and multiply without borders. There will always be flourishing fruition. Race, beliefs, and culture all have a spiritual connection in one way or another. One's mind sometimes forgets and needs a little vision to truly understand they will always matter and never be forgotten. Allow me to tell the story of a man who adored the Lord and his family until tragedy led his heart and mind into a spiral of grief.
By Marsha L Ceniceros4 years ago in Fiction
Draw The Card
Andrea Bocelli filled the air with romance in that one-bedroom government-paid apartment. Crystal, however, couldn't grasp the shivering night mist seeping through the open window as she sat in front of her computer screen. The piano keys played through those memories of childhood maltreatment. She questioned if that location of her heart was an emotion of genuine love. Fairy tale stories and those dancing creations of images filled her mind, and with this came nothing more than "what-ifs," or are they? As always in that state of mind, a quick snap and crack produced various unusual reactions; unspeakable visions invade those memories. Violently shaken into her reality came to those curtains of hell! Flared and fluffed beauty spun a haunting grace as they soon came to rest! She danced upon that stage without an audience to give voice, note, or even clap towards a performance that took such a dramatic suicidal ending. It was her creation within an idea of profound mental illness, her history of depression, borderline personality disorder, and anxiety-filled panic attacks. Loneliness has damaged the path to recovery, and she knew this. The only thrill of life is seeing him; his brown eyes danced every time she served his meal. Meanwhile, she'd sit pondering the 'what-if's' concerning her life and his.
By Marsha L Ceniceros4 years ago in Fiction
KARMA
Adil leaned back in that black leather desk chair; in fact, it was the only new item that consumed the attention of those faded painted walls within that weather-beaten building. That dewy smell and dirt floor enhanced the atmosphere into a sweltering dim prison. In his mind, though, it was far from the prison. In fact, it was the atmosphere that thrived through his veins—a sacred gift of peace. The chosen nine could not move nor leave to their once secure homes. They were influenced by his charm. His presentation was that of a well-bred man. Dressed in a herringbone white dress shirt with those sleeves rolled halfway up. Black trousers and that silver-blue Rolex watch shinned. His dark skin bathed within clammy sweat, the beads formed and rolled down his neck and chest, it was his eyes that shone the seriousness of the situation, dark piercing, somewhat in the depths of hell! In that place, his proper introduction came into play as he tapped. Tapped... the tip of his pen upon the faded, scratched desktop.
By Marsha L Ceniceros4 years ago in Fiction
VIRTUOSO
FLATTERINGLY FEARFUL IN ITS PLACE, innocent, scared of life's fate. Faultless rebellion in its wake, given life from the passions of sin. A fact understood in this world whenever we breed, there had to be something more than just a seed. History plays itself over and over; this time, everything learned after 2078 is computerized. The Internet virus of 2678 left the world in dismay. The total repair took twenty-two years, initiating the outbreak of many wars. Thousands of lives, young and old, paid a terrible price during this time. Gray-covered skies sucked the dreams away from those who lost hope. When no one thought life could become worse, the Military stepped in and strong-armed as usual with un-Godly control. This behaviour never stopped; it grew stronger. Past heroes who left their stories upon paper of their trials and tribulations gave new hope to the few who found such treasures buried in the rubble. Convinced their time was short, some Scientists fled underground. With the apparent prediction of Internet theft, war and destruction will come sooner or later. The few newly born heroes desperately tried to take steps to protect the future of the human race. Then again, life shall spin its web of warnings. All those who should have listened to the warnings played follow the leader. Rewarded with gifts from the Military, it made their lives more pleasant.
By Marsha L Ceniceros5 years ago in Fiction
Humans Are Like Car Engines, Once Tweaked, They Run Better
Imagine living within a community of the narrow streets of Lake Como in northern Italy, a never-ending maze of pebbly step narrow paths. Stepping between those pathways nestled among those blooming gardens caressing each brick structure. The aspirations of the imagination exploding, a never-ending existence of a serine stream where ballerinas dressed in white glide along their rippling blue stage, transforming their audiences into a graceful ecstasy. That heartbeat sweeping the burden of labourers work outside of such a grand tour in wonderland. Those were the aspirations of my soul through the trials and tabulation of child abuse. As I grew older, the revengeful side of me blossomed along with trying to understand society's ignorance on the matter. As an adult, mentally, physically, and spiritually deprived throughout this paradox of that world was not easy. How do you find strength when you feel it does not exist? Every bit of a child, these experiences shaped me. My parents never allowed the arts of life into our lives. Everything had been destroyed when my siblings or I created. It was considered wasteful!
By Marsha L Ceniceros5 years ago in Motivation
