Source:seize-the-m0ment
Lightning hits the spot.
Thunder rumbles by.
Clouds flee in horror.
The sky turns black in fear.
Our town is under attack.
Nature has its final say.
THE DEAD GAME
Dark shadows fill the night.
Diving from a great height.
Have they come to play?
How long will they stay?
🖤THE DEAD GAME🖤
The night holds you too tight.
You must not fear or fight.
You belong to us now.
I say this with a bow.
You will follow us to hell.
As we ring the nightly bell.
Our servant you will be.
You’ll never be set free.
The town belongs to us.
No reason for a fuss.
The Dead are here to stay.
Come with us and play.
THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist
The candle flickers.
The music plays softly.
In an empty house.
The piano keys pound faster.
The wind screams louder.
The games are about to begin.
THE DEAD GAME
Tigers pace in their cages,
Waiting to be set free.
Animals fill the basement.
An awful sight to see.
Leashes jangle against bars.
Metal against metal rings loud.
As the gates slowly lift open,
Pointy teeth glisten without sound.
This cannot be happening.
This cannot be so.
No way are there tigers
in the basement below.
THE DEAD GAME
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.
![The Dead Game by [Leist, Susanne]](https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/51-m2nzT31L._SY346_.jpg)
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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End House explodes,
shattering from within.
The house groans
as it topples into the sea.
Leaving no trace behind,
no evidence of its existence,
its wicked mark on mankind.
Gone for good,
or so we hope
and with it,
The Dead.
THE DEAD GAME
The staircase gives way.
Linda slides into its deadly grasp.
A tunnel envelopes her.
Hands reach out for her.
Will I reach the bottom?
Is there even a bottom to this madness?
Who lives beneath End House?
Will I become one of them?
Into the unyielding darkness
Comes the cry, “Stop!”
Linda looks up to find Todd and Shana,
Clinging to the rocky walls.
The staircase reappears.
They climb to the front door.
Linda pulls on the handle.
It won’t budge.
“Open!” echoes in the hallway.
At Todd’s command,
The door opens for them.
The house pushes them out,
Slamming the door behind them.
Too terrified to glance back at Todd,
Linda races ahead to the car.
I can’t believe I was actually
Falling for him.
Linda’s problems have just begun.
THE DEAD GAME
ALONE IN THE WOODS
Shadows follow me into the deep.
I walk while others are asleep.
The chill flows right through me.
I’m alone as you can see.
White sleepy lambs elude me.
Though I am where I should be.
Here in the forest on this path.
Sun will rise, it can do the math.
It will find me on this bench.
Next to the one with the stench.
It is past time for me to move on.
Before I’m found by what is now gone.
