The Paranormal Suspense Game: An Interview with Author Susanne Leist

The Dead Game by [Leist, Susanne]

 

Do you have any advice for writers who are struggling in certain ways, making progress with writing but also dealing with too much meantime?

It is hard to juggle writing with promoting books, creating an author platform on various social sites, and living a life outside of books. The best solution is to allocate different parts of the day to the various chores. I like to promote my book in the morning on Facebook and Twitter. Then I write poems for my blogs. Poetry began as a promotion for my book and has now turned into a hobby for me. It allows me to use all the flowery words and adjectives that are now frowned upon in book writing. On the days, I work on my second book, I put aside a chunk of time for it, usually in the afternoon or late at night. Sometimes these afternoon writing hours continue into the middle of the night. I don’t always follow my advice, but I try.

 

 Reviewer: Susanne Leist’s “The Dead Game” is like a scavenger hunt with a twist of the board game “Clue”.

How much time do you spend on the craft of writing?

As mentioned in the answer above, I set aside time for writing that can run from a few hours to a whole day and into the night. I can’t predict how I will write on a particular day. On some days, the words flow smoothly, and on other days, they don’t. When they do, I pound away at the computer.

 

Reviewer : A fast-paced, epic read!

Do you flex those creative muscles every day or how often?

I write something each day, whether a poem or pages of my book. These muscles need to be flexed on a regular basis, just like our arms and legs.

Reviewer: Write with energy and imagination! That’s what the great Oz said on the day author Susanne Leist was born.

What were the circumstances and challenges you faced getting your first book out?

I self-published with Outskirts Press. I didn’t know at the time that I should have promoted my book before its release. As soon as my book was printed, Outskirts Press listed it on Amazon and Barnes and Noble. It didn’t have a description. I didn’t have an author bio prepared. In one week, I rushed to set up blogs and open Twitter, Facebook, and Google Accounts. I lost those first few precious days of sales of a new book.

Reviewer: If you like action-packed, heart-stopping thrillers blended with supernatural elements, then, this is the book for you.

What have you learned on your writing journey that is helped you on your latest creative endeavor?

This time I will be prepared for my second book’s release. I’ve used proofreaders along the way. It’s almost ready for the editor. My book will have a description, links set up, and reviews.

Reviewer: It launches directly into chills and thrills and lays out a wonderfully dark and engaging foundation on which to build all ensuing events.

 

Susanne Leist

Go Bare Maximum with Edgar Rider

The Dead Game by [Leist, Susanne]

Do you have any advice for writers who are struggling in certain ways, making progress with writing but also dealing with too much meantime?

It is hard to juggle writing with promoting books, creating an author platform on various social sites, and living a life outside of books. The best solution is to allocate different parts of the day to the various chores. I like to promote my book in the morning on Facebook and Twitter. Then I write poems for my blogs. Poetry began as a promotion for my book and has now turned into a hobby for me. It allows me to use all the flowery words and adjectives that are now frowned upon in book writing. On the days, I work on my second book, I put aside a chunk of time for it, usually in the afternoon or late at night. Sometimes these afternoon writing hours…

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I AM OFF TO FLORIDA

1512286574622-take-my-hand-ill-meet-you-in-paradise

 

I’m off to Oasis, Florida.
We’ll see if there are demons,
flying creatures, & disappearing bodies.
I’ll find out the truth.
♦THE DEAD GAME♦ by Susanne Leist
http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP
http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj

AN ICE FANTASY

An ice heaven waits for us.
Ice statues in paradise.
A party in the dark night.
I refuse to run from fright.
Guests twirl around the dance floor.
I can take this anymore.
No melting until the sun shines bright.
For now, I must halt my morning...

 

An ice heaven waits for us.

Ice statues in paradise.

A party in the dark night.

I refuse to run from fright.

Guests twirl around the dance floor.

I can take this anymore.

No melting until the sun shines bright.

For now, I must halt my morning flight.

We must uncover The Dead creatures.

Behind masks, I can see their features.

They’re cold as death in the morning.

For me, they will soon be mourning.

But I must help to free our town.

I think this as I twirl around.

 

THE DEAD GAME

Kindle

http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP

Nook

http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj

 

WELCOME TO THE PARTY

flickering candles

Follow the candles

WELCOME TO THE PARTY

 

Candles along the stairs,

Keepers of the dark night.

We’ve come for the party

With no one else in sight.

 

More candles down the hall,

Their eerie lights flicker.

Empty rooms greet us as

We begin to bicker.

 

The basement door stands open.

We argue and make a fuss.

We agree to take the stairs

As the door slams behind us.

 

THE DEAD GAME has begun.

THE END

The End

Life has come to an end.
Time has run out for me.
Evil one of the night,
He is strong as can be.

The winds rise in fury,
Calling him by his name.
He is known as the Wolf,
Who made The Dead Game.

A hand grabs hold of me.
Wolf has taken me down.
To his dark netherworld,
To tunnels under the town.​

I roam the bleak dungeons.
Death wants to be my friend.
I refuse to drink blood,
On this, ​I will not bend.

In this maze of horror,
I track it round and round.
I will seek a way out
Till I fall to the ground.

My love must soon find me.
Please, Todd, ​take me from here.
The walls are closing in,
One more night I can’t bear.​

THE DEAD GAME

HE HAS COME FOR ME

evil one

HE HAS COME FOR ME

Do my eyes deceive me?
Can this be true?
A creature is stalking me
Through the dark streets.

Eyes black as night,
Cries as soft as the wind,
Sharp claws tapping a sad melody.
It draws closer to me still.

The mansion’s gates yawn open.
My feet leave tracks in the mud,
Handprints where I fall in my haste.
Salty tears splash on the rocks.

The mansion waits in its dark glory
For the innocent and weary.
It sheds its shell like a caterpillar,
But no butterfly does it become.

The creature gains ground,
A stalker in its feline prance.
Whiskers pointed to the wind,
Skulking closer to me.

One last stumble for me
As my knees graze the rocks.
My fingers climb the steps,
Digging deep into the dirt.

I turn one last time.
The dark one stands up,
Reaching its full height.
On two feet it stands tall.

Yellow eyes glisten in the dark,
No whiskers to follow my scent.
White skin for black fur,
Laughter falls from his lips.

He has come for me,
Walking on muscled legs.
Sure and strong is his gait
For no more does he crawl.

“Come to me!” he says.​
“No more games for us to play.”
His hand reaches for mine
As I back away from his touch.

“I refuse to belong to you.”
My voice shakes in despair.
I will not follow him
To the land of beyond.

The house swallows me whole.
A maze of rooms for shelter,
I am hidden inside its walls.
Darkness shields​ me from harm.

THE DEAD GAME

THE RETURN

1501711178367-take-my-hand

I’m over here.

I can smell your fear.

You won’t be alone.

I can hear your moan.

I’ll be rising soon

On the next full moon.

I’ll rise from down under​

On lightning and thunder.

You will not recognize me.

I’ll be different you see.

My new body is strong.

Now do not get me wrong.

I still love you, my dear.

Of that please have no fear.

THE DEAD GAME continues

MIDNIGHT AT THE OASIS

Midnight at the Oasis

e-e-r-i-n-e-s-s:

Nosferatu (1922)

The clock chimes midnight.

Time stands​ still.

The music stops.

Dancers freeze in place.

All is quiet.

The clock chimes twelve times.

The music resumes.

Dancing continues without a hitch.

The Dead have assumed control.

THE DEAD GAME has begun.

Excerpt of The Dead Game

1 Take my hand

Todd had somehow backed her against a tall tree on the deserted walkway. She couldn’t move back and if she moved forward, well…Todd’s large, muscular body was blocking the way.

They stood in the tree’s cool shade, colorful leaves falling all around them. They were staring into each other’s eyes; each one was afraid to make the first move. Todd finally moved closer, encircling her and giving her the long, heartfelt kiss that she’d been waiting for—for a very long time.

She couldn’t believe that he was holding and kissing her. His mouth was soft and hard at the same time—pulling her deeper and deeper into his world of heightened feelings. When he touched her, she felt somehow different—not herself anymore. He took total control of her mind and her body. It felt unbelievably good, but scary at the same time. She still wasn’t sure that she was ready to give up her freedom to be under Todd’s control.

He was staring down at her—as if trying to commit her face to memory. He caressed her eyelids with his lips. Then his warm lips moved down her face to her mouth once more. She shivered in delight. Who knew that he could be so gentle and caring?

The kisses grew ardent, but her mind remained focused on the way he had been memorizing her features. Why? Was he going away? Was there something he wasn’t telling her? Of course, there was—he and his friends were always keeping secrets. She didn’t know if she could trust him. But damn​, he was a good kisser. And he was beautiful: his big brown eyes had those long lashes that any woman would die for; she loved his cleft chin and his finely chiseled features.

She ran her fingers through his soft, curly brown hair. But she had to be able to trust him—with her life ​if need be. His lips were trailing down her neck, down her chest, ending at the deep V of her neckline. He was licking her skin, causing her limbs to tremble. She felt warmth flowing down her body, awakening her nerve endings with the sudden unexpected thrill. She threw her head back and softly moaned.

He groaned in response, his playful tongue reversing in direction, picking up speed until it reached her mouth once again. Then he descended upon her with his lips; his warm mouth, which was molding itself to hers. His whole body was molding itself to hers ​until she felt as one with him. She was falling into his embrace.

ONLY HOUSES I SEE

witch

The new spring blooms colors.

But who even bothers

to breathe the sweet air?

I don’t have a care.

My car fails to start,

a walk in the park.

I raise my small hand.

Gone is the quicksand.

It races down the hill,

the most heavenly thrill.

Shocked faces turn to me.

Only houses I see.