THE DEAD GAME RETURNS

Rising from below.
From the deep.
Arms reaching.
Voice yearning.
Fish scattering.
Water parting.
Birds crying.
Sun hiding.
Darkness rising.
Face as white as snow.
Eyes mirroring the depths.
Muscles bulging.
He returns to me.
He swims to shore.
The...

 

Rising from below.

From the deep.

Arms reaching.

Voice yearning.

Fish scattering.

Water parting.

Birds crying.

Sun hiding.

Darkness rising.

Face as white as snow.

Eyes mirroring the depths.

Muscles bulging.

He returns to me.

He swims to shore.

The Dead at his back.

 

THE DEAD GAME continues…

Book 2 coming soon.

 

Advertisements

HEAR THE WHISPERS

 

by hdunsirn:Peabody library, baltimore 9.6.14
©hannahdunsirn

 

The peace.

The quiet.

The silence.

The hush of the hallways.

The smell of books.

The taunt of knowledge.

Sit at a table.

Sit by the stacks.

Sit in the corner.

Feel the adventure.

Live the history.

Learn about life.

THE OLD BOOKSTORE

aurelielise-anne:
“The old bookstore.
”
Why don’t we have these anymore?
Books covering ceiling to floor.
Happiness between the binding.
What a perfect and safe finding.
Read in the candlelight.
Nothing can be as right.
Pictures and words before my...

 

aurelielise-anne:

The old bookstore.

 

Why don’t we have these anymore?

Books covering ceiling to floor.

Happiness between the binding.

What a perfect and safe finding.

Read in the candlelight.

Nothing can be as right.

Pictures and words before my eyes.

Reading about truth and some lies.

You’ll definitely find me hiding.

The tall shelves of books I’ll be minding.

 

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…

View original post 360 more words

THE PERFECT WAVE

 

Welcome to Oasis, Florida.

Where sunlight glistens

on the pink sand.

Money flows like water 

at the Oasis Hotel.

Tourists search

for the perfect paradise.

The perfect wave.

The perfect partner.

The perfect party.

They will find all of this

and much more.

THE DEAD GAME

AN ISLAND ESCAPE

An Island Escape

Take me away from a world without color,
A world where life is dull and grey.
I want to swim through the ocean’s waves,
Where rainbows can frolic and play.

The sun’s rays shimmer off the water,
Leaving trails of gold, yellow, and red.
Beacons of light for me to follow,
To a new land where to lay my head.

I fly through the rolling waves,
Touching down on a spot of land.
I am lifted by arms of fountains
And laid to rest on the pink sand.

Turtles scurry away from my hand.
Birds fly around as they have fun.
The waves recede in their farewell dance,
Leaving me alone in the sun.

Who lives on this small island?
It’s time for me to explore.
A hut of branches in a tree.
I must see if there is more.

The steps are pretty steep,
I climb and step inside.
The room is small and dark.
Who knows what it may hide?

I hear footsteps from the room beyond.
They’re coming closer to where I hide.
It’s too late to run for the door,
I must face whoever is inside.

He saunters into the room.
Candles and two places set.
He throws me a big grin,
As if I am his prized pet.

We both wait in silence.
He slowly moves toward me.
“I hope you like my surprise.”
I feel as cold as can be.

I don’t like surprises.
Especially from him.
He keeps me at arm’s​ length,
Not letting me in.

I lower my eyes
From the fire in his eyes.
They’re consuming me alive,
I’m burning up from his lies.

He makes an abrupt movement.
He strides across the room.
He kisses me with great passion
Under the blood red moon.

I WALK ALONE

I Walk Alone
Source: f0r-you

I WALK ALONE

I walk alone each night.

Far from my bed, I roam.

I cannot fall asleep.

I wander far from home.

The moon is my lone shadow.

My only company as I walk.

I keep my eyes to the ground.

I have no one with whom to talk.

I shiver from the cold wind.

My fingers are tinged blue.

I seldom pass anyone.

Strangers are far and few.

My journey ends at your door.

No courage to ring the bell.

I stand across the street.

As I ponder my own hell.

TWO HEARTS

red rose
Source: f0r-you

I picked a rose just for you.

A symbol of me and you.

Soft as the petals are your skin.

As precious as the pistol within.

It rises to meet the sun’s face.

No one can ever take its place.

Open and spread your leaves apart.

I can feel the beat of your heart.

Two hearts joined as one.

My job is now done.