Susanne Leist's Blog, page 633
December 14, 2013
ACT OF KINDNESS
This is the picture that touches my heart. It represents the kindness that we as humans have within. It also represents the helplessness we feel at times.
The fact that someone is willing to help this helpless animal gives me hope for all mankind.
THE DEAD GAME
Shana Logan was running to hit the ball over the net, her long red hair flying in the wind. She was strong and athletic looking. Her long-lashed, pretty bright green eyes were focused on the game. Linda felt small in comparison…with her own petite frame and less flamboyant brown hair.
Linda shook her head at Shana’s need to be in control at all times. Shana was too serious about everything, even unimportant things like sports.
Shana hit the ball to Todd Morrison, who returned the ball over the net—right into Louise Cannon’s stomach. Louise squealed in pain while Todd rewarded her with one of his devilish grins.
Linda admired Todd’s rugged good looks…with his thick black wavy hair and dark brown, almost black eyes. He ran like an athlete, despite being tall and muscular. His muscles beneath his white t-shirt rippled as he dove to hit a ball. His muscular thighs beneath his denim cut-off shorts tightened and flexed as his legs pounded the hot sand. To her he looked perfect in every way.
Not being talkative, she often found Todd observing everyone from a discreet distance, causing her to wonder what was behind those dark, enigmatic eyes. Those two black pools to his soul allowed her very brief glimpses to his true feelings. What she wanted was a deeper access to his thoughts, t0 understand how his mind worked—
and to find out if he liked her.
On the other hand, Louise didn’t appear to be too happy with Todd right now. She clutched her stomach as if she were in extreme agony from the ball hitting her. Her stomach was flat and she looked stunning in her tiny blue bikini. Louise looked great in everything she wore, with her doll-like features and perfect toned body. Her hair was long, straight, and blonde and her eyes were light cornflower blue. She looked like a small doll, but one with an angry expression on its face.
Todd rushed over to soothe her, causing the game to break up. Mike Aronson and David Deer walked over to greet Linda, while Shana stood back from the others with an annoyed look on her face.
David said to Linda. “Did you receive that strange invitation in the mail today?”
While keeping a careful eye focused on the ongoing interaction between Todd and Louise, she replied, “I didn’t get a chance to go through the mail yet….What is it an invitation to?”
“It’s for a private party at one of those huge mansions.” His voice rose an octave higher. Mike said, “It’s not at one of those houses but at End House, which just sits all alone, empty and deserted.” A strange faraway look crossed his face as he continued, “It just hangs at the edge of the steep cliff overlooking the sharp rocks and the raging waters of the ocean….”
http://outskirtpress.com/thedeadgame
December 13, 2013
THE DEAD GAME--A PAGE A DAY--DAY 3
A PAGE A DAY LIKE THE DOCTOR ORDERED.
Oasis, Florida
Five Years Later
Chapter 1
Linda Bennett was walking home from her bookstore in the picturesque town of Oasis, daydreaming about the beautiful fall weather in northern Florida. The leaves were turning those intriguing shades of orange and red. The trees were beginning to shed their leaves that blew around in the warm breeze. She loved the coastline of Florida, where each season brought with it a wide range of colors and foliage in the midst of mildly changing temperatures.
During her stroll down Main Street, she passed the quaint shops and the grassy town park. Spread out before her was the tree-lined walkway that ran parallel to the pristine white-sand beach. Behind her, Main Street continued inland to include a gas station/auto body shop, a large town hall, a sheriff’s office, a grocery store, and a white-brick church. Farther inland and accessible only through narrow and winding side roads, were the charming bed and breakfast and the run-down, deserted mansion.
Adjacent to the park stood the Oasis Hotel, which fronted the beach with its large pool, cabana, and poolside bar. Nestled farther south along the beach was the colorful fishing village with its colorful marina for docking its small fleet of fishing boats.
Scattered in the small hills behind the hotel were the
homes of the town’s residents. The tree-lined country
lanes showcased these large houses with their sloping lawns, all wrapped up in white picket fences.
The wooded hill behind the town, or what Floridians consider to be a mountain, held the extravagant
homes of the town’s original residents. These palatial homes were concealed behind tall trees, thick bushes, and metal gates. The older residents were very wealthy and kept to themselves.
At night these homes woke up—as if from a long sleep during the day—to loud music, laughter, and colorful lights. Fancy cars and limousines dropped off guests along the long, hidden driveways. Linda had never been invited to the private parties, which she knew were being held behind the huge policed gates.
As she neared her complex of apartments, she detected
a cacophony of loud voices. It was the sound of her friends
who lived in her building. It was not really a building, but two separate lines of apartments with curving stairways leading into the beach.
Linda removed her shoes to walk barefoot in the soft sand. She lifted her face to the late afternoon sun, whose bright sunshine made the sand sparkle and shine, and the ocean reveal its varied shades of blue and green. She sat in the sand to watch her friends play volleyball on the beach.
December 12, 2013
WHAT LIES BENEATH THE SURFACE
When you meet someone new or talk to someone you already know, do you really know what her or she is thinking? What he thinks about you? Is his smile sincere or fake? Is his laugh a little too high-pitched to be real? Is the person holding himself too stiff to be comfortable speaking with you?
We never know what another person is thinking or feeling. It would be nicer and easier if everyone acted the way they felt. Not to the point of rudeness but to the point of not being misleading. Then we would be able to find someone who is actually interested in what we have to say. That would be much better than wasting time with someone only to find out he was dishonest the whole time.
This is never going to happen but it doesn’t hurt to dream.
um-this-is-awkward:
Looks like the part of my book when the...
Looks like the part of my book when the house comes alive and attacks the family. Doors and cabinets begin to fly.
THE DEAD GAME--READ A PAGE A DAY--DAY 2
Each day, I’m going to post a page from my book. They will be consecutive. This way everyone has a chance to read my book online for free, since I wrote my book for everyone to enjoy.
Think of my book as a cross between the TV shows, The Vampire Diaries and The Originals. It also contains murder and mystery, similar to Elementary.
If you enjoy supernatural, mystery, and murder, then you should enjoy my book.
If anyone has comments on how to make my book even better, then please post away. Nothing is perfect and there’s always room for improvement. I wrote for you, the readers, so let me hear your thoughts.
ENJOY READING!
That evening the house had been quiet.
Diane had been in the kitchen at the back of the house with her husband, washing and drying dishes after a late dinner. Without warning, all hell broke loose around them. A cold wind had blown into the house, lifting the hanging pots and pans and throwing them through the kitchen window. The doors of their new cabinets had been ripped off their hinges and crushed to pieces against the kitchen’s walls.
To Diane, it felt like a tornado had entered their house and was destroying it from within. They’d watched as their white shutters flew off the windows to shatter to pieces across the back patio.
Then the house had turned quiet—too quiet. Afraid that this meant something very bad for them, she’d prayed that she wasn’t right, but unfortunately, she had been. As cries filled the house, her heart had jolted in fear. The sounds were coming from the rooms above, from where her children were sleeping. Tim was tucked into his crib and Serena was sound asleep in her bed in the adjacent bedroom. They were innocent and alone upstairs with whatever or whoever was after them.
They were racing down the staircase, carrying their children, eager to reach the front door. Diane stopped dead in her tracks. A dark red substance was oozing into the house from under the door, creeping across the floor, devouring everything in its wake. They watched as the huge circular rug and the large hall table disappeared into its thick slime. Extending its reach farther out, it made its way toward them.
Diane detected a high-pitched keening cry coming from within the slime. She backed herself into a corner. “It’s going to swallow us!”
“Run out the back!” John shouted above the children’s frightened sobbing. He pushed her ahead of him. “Don’t think! Just make sure you get out of this house and down the stairs to the beach. Or else you might be living here forever!”
They climbed through the destroyed kitchen, through detached pieces of ceiling, through broken pieces of cabinets and sharp shards from shattered dishes.
Once outside, they were struck by flying debris. The patio was engulfed in a strong wind, which lifted the furniture high into the air. The white wicker pieces crashed against each other, the broken pieces falling into the empty pool.
The pool had been filled already twice that season. The house had a mind of its own: it wanted the pool empty of water and her family gone; and it was making sure that it remained that way.
The red liquid was creeping out beneath the kitchen door, inching its way toward them. She screamed above the sound of the howling wind. “It’s getting closer! It’s followed us outside! WE ARE ALL DEAD!”
“We must escape now! Don’t look back! Just run!”
She gazed down the steep staircase to the rocky shore below, to the jagged rocks that were being beaten by the raging waves of the ocean. In her heart, she knew that their fate was not going to be much better.
The sky rumbled, turning a deep black color, filled with dark pulsing clouds. Fluorescent streaks of lightning flashed across the darkening sky, followed by loud claps of thunder. The house shook all the way down to its foundation. Windows exploded; pieces of roof lifted off in the wind; bricks crumbled to the ground.
The red liquid continued in its arduous path across the patio: flowing over fallen debris, never slowing its pace, following close on the heels of the fleeing family. The slime lifted itself up and wrapped its bloody red tentacles around the horror-stricken family members. Trapped in its tight grasp, they watched in silence as the thrashing wind destroyed everything around them. Unable to move, they waited for the house to decide upon their final destiny.
A whirling mass of air rose from deep within the pool, drawing everything toward it like a giant magnet. Patio furniture, bushes, trees…and even the small family were pulled into the swirling vortex.
Everything was dragged down deep into the bowels of the house, where there was nothing—only absolute and complete darkness.
Once the intruders were taken care of, the house quieted down and the liquid retreated. The house returned to its sullen and gloomy appearance. No sounds or voices were heard again.
End House remained empty until the party five years later that awoke the house to the possibility of new victims. 
Check out for any missed pages: http://susanneleist.blogspot.com
December 11, 2013
WAVES CRASHING AGAINST THE ROCKS
What could possibly sound...
WAVES CRASHING AGAINST THE ROCKS
What could possibly sound better or more relaxing? How many books do you think have been written by authors inspired by the ocean?
The ocean inspires me. It is one of nature’s greatest achievements. There is beauty in its perfection. It covers a large portion of the earth—its vastness awes us.
When I was growing up, I used to visit Manhattan Beach in Brooklyn just to watch the waves. On some days, the ocean was calm and quiet. On other days, it would rear its mighty head and roar. Its waves would pound with force against the rocks.
I don’t live as close to the ocean any longer, but I still visit the beach to watch the ocean and its soothing waves.
Beauty can be found in all of nature. We just have to pay attention.
7hours37minutes
WAVES CRASHING AGAINST THE ROCKS
What could...
WAVES CRASHING AGAINST THE ROCKS
What could possibly sound better or more relaxing? How many books do you think have been written by authors inspired by the ocean?
The ocean inspires me. It is one of nature’s greatest achievements. There is beauty in its perfection. It covers a large portion of the earth—its vastness awes us.
When I was growing up, I used to visit Manhattan Beach in Brooklyn just to watch the waves. On some days, the ocean was calm and quiet. On other days, it would rear its mighty head and roar. Its waves would pound with force against the rocks.
I don’t live as close to the ocean any longer, but I still visit the beach to watch the ocean and its soothing waves.
Beauty can be found in all of nature. We just have to pay attention.
lastrealthug:
Get me out of here ..
This is what I had...
Get me out of here ..
This is what I had imagined when I was writing my book. Kind of creepy, isn’t it?
THE LEADER
In nature as in everything else in life, there is a leader. Whether we want the leader...
In nature as in everything else in life, there is a leader. Whether we want the leader or not, we get one anyway.
Look at the birds. One is standing apart, watching the others. He is their leader. Maybe they need one. Sometimes we need one too.
