A LONG HARD ROAD

If I had known it was going to be so hard,
 Involving computer skills to the extreme,
 I might have thought twice about it,
 Thought twice about writing my book.
 Writers must write each and every day.
 We must promote our books daily.
 We must post on our blogs each day.
 But there’s not enough hours in a day.
 How do other writers accomplish all this?
 How do they leave free time for their families?
 They must be expert jugglers.
 Experts at writing, blogging, and juggling.
 I must learn this dance.
 This high-wire walk.
 This never-ending battle.
 I must learn to juggle.
 I will do it.
 I will do it all.
 Just give me the chance.
 Book two is waiting to be written.
 I feel free.
 I feel empowered.
 I will survive.
 James Patterson, eat my dust.

WHAT I CHERISH MOST

 

What I Cherish The Most

What I cherish the most isn’t a ‘what’ but a ‘who,’ the person who I had looked up to and then had lost too early in life. This was my brother, Neil Leist.

Why am I an author?
The answer lies with my brother, Neil Leist.
Neil was a person who lit up a room when he entered. He was 6 feet 2 inches, but it wasn’t his height that drew peoples’ eyes. It was his dynamic personality. Those grey eyes mirrored his brilliant intellect and capacity for greatness. Neil took care of my blind mother until I was old enough to help. He helped raise me when my father wasn’t home but working interminable days and nights driving a taxi.
Flourishing in the business world, Neil traded on the Commodity Exchange until he earned enough money to own a majority stake in a Fortune 500 company. He became the CEO and Chairman of the Board of Directors of American Bakeries. Neil took me along on his ride to stardom as I worked for him on the Commodities Exchange and in his offices on Madison Avenue, New York. I majored in Finance at New York University, preparing to join him. For the first time, life was good.
In the middle of the night, a phone call turned my world dark. Dark as the one in which my mother lived. My brother had been in a car accident in the Hamptons. His red Porsche had hydroplaned on the wet roads. Neil was a skilled driver with quick reflexes; he drove the car off the highway and onto the grass. Luck wasn’t with him that night. The Porsche crashed beneath a truck parked in its path. His brain injury left him in a coma, and he died two years later.
I continued my education and received an M.B.A. in Finance, but high finance lost its appeal. I worked at various investment companies, but I didn’t want to trade or analyze stocks and commodities. My brother and my parents had passed. My daughters were beginning their own lives. Without a focus in my life, I began to write. As an avid reader, I had many stories racing through my mind.
In my first book, The Dead Game, I combine mystery and paranormal. Two guests disappear from a party at a deserted house, leaving the others to fend for their lives from wild animals and traps. Since I end the book with a cliffhanger, I had to write the second book in the series, Prey for The Dead. The residents of the coastal town of Oasis in northern Florida face vampires and hybrids once again. This time, the action takes them to Disney World, where vampires hide at an exclusive club. Yes, I based my story on an actual club at Disney created by Walt Disney. Next week, I will release the third book in the series, The Dead At Heart. Is the series finished? I don’t know yet. I now live my life as a big question mark: no periods or final thoughts, only possibilities.
My life has taken unexpected twists and turns. Memories of my brother follow me across every speed bump. I don’t have him any longer, but I have Neil stored in a special place in my heart. He’s given me the strength and the drive to pursue my dreams. After what he’s accomplished in his brief life, I yearn to create a fraction of the positive memories he’s left for me and those whose lives he has touched.

OPEN THE DOOR

 

 An open door invites.
 An open door beckons.
 Who can resist it?
 Who doesn’t want to take a peek?
 What treasures might be hidden on the other side?
 Or what evil might be lying in wait for us?
 Open the door and find out.
 I know you want to.

INVISIBLE

Some days I feel strong and empowered,
 Ready to face the challenges
 Life throws at me.
 Other days I feel invisible,
 A transparent copy of myself,
 Feeling life fade away.
 How do I remain strong?
 My transparent self
 Needs to be reminded
 Of all the people
 Who rely on it;
 Of all the people
 Who love and need it.
 It is flickering.
 It is becoming solid.
 It is becoming strong once again.

TWO-FACED WONDER

Beautiful rose.
Soft and velvety.
Protected by sharp thorns.
Bright in the sunshine.
Dark in the moonlight.
A two-faced wonder.

A REVIEW TO DIE FOR

THE DEAD GAME

5 Stars

There is something painfully wrong about the seemingly perfect town of Oasis

ByPeter Garcia

Format: Kindle Edition

The opening pages of “The Dead Game” grab you at the ankles and drag into the deeper story. There is something painfully wrong about the seemingly perfect town of Oasis. Without getting into spoilers, here’s my take. Leist’s cast of characters are interesting in and of themselves. They do leave you wanting to get to know them better; yet, as in real life you only get to see the sides and masks that others want you to see. That, to me, was the author’s point. Everyone in Oasis seems to have an agenda, and it’s hard to know what to believe. With that in mind, Leist does a great job of bringing to life the picturesque town of Oasis, and the menacing End House. The book is reminiscent of tales like “House on Haunted Hill,” yet with its own twists on the supernatural thriller. The story is well-paced and the dangers faced by Leist’s characters feels terrifyingly real. All in all, a good read. I look forward to reading more works from this author.

myBook.to/TheDeadGame

IN THE DARK

ALONE IN THE DARK

“I sit alone by the table.
I hear voices around me.
Sounds of movement.
Sounds of life.

I reach out.
I can feel the smoothness.
A plate.
A meal.

Smells waft by my nose.
Aromas of chicken.
Sweet smells of  pudding.
Smells of life.

What color is the food?
Is the sun shining in?
Are the faces around me young or old?
So many questions.

Questions I can’t answer.
I can never answer.
For I am blind,
Have been blind for years.”

The anguish my mother had faced
For most of her life.
Her sight stolen from her
At a young age.

The last part of her life

was spent in a nursing home,

suffering from dementia.

Life can be cruel.

Loss of sight.
Loss of colors.
Loss of faces.
Loss of memories.

 

UNMASKED

UNMASKED

Show me your face.
Reveal your true colors.
Take off your mask.
What lies underneath?

Without your arrogant facade.
Your roguish manner.
Your flirty ways.
What lies underneath?

Walk to me.
As yourself.
Without lies.
So I can see what lies underneath.

Let the mask fall to the ground.
Let it break.
Shatter to pieces.
I can now see what lies underneath.

A RADIANCE FROM WITHIN

 

Nature has its own beauty.

Its radiance comes from within.

Blossoming from a mere seed.

To give color and light to the world.

HOLD ON TIGHT

 

Bolts of lightning light up the road.

We are nearing the eye of the storm.

Should we chase the storm?

Or should we give up and turn around?

We might never be given this chance again.

A chance to ride the storm.

Will we be thrown from our car?

Will we experience a rush of excitement?

Will animals and trees fly by us?

Let’s go.

We will never know unless we do it.

Hold on tight.