SNEAK PEEK at the PROLOGUE for BOOK 2 OF THE DEAD GAME Series

STORY HOP – Let us fire your imagination

Welcome to the second annual Goodreads B2B Cyber Convention Story Hop.

A select group of creative authors have come together to share their stories.

I will be presenting a sneak peek at the Prologue for Book Two of The Dead Game series.

It will have spoilers. So beware. If you haven’t finished Book One, you might find a few mysteries resolved at the beginning of Book Two.

My Story Hop is on my Wordpress page at: https://susanneleist.wordpress.com/book/story-hop/

THE VAMPIRE LEGEND

BOOK TWO of THE DEAD GAME SERIES

PROLOGUE

    He lies dying.

    He must explain his dire circumstances to his last disciple, the one sired from his demon blood.

    His life’s blood is draining from his body. He must find his pupil. He has to be somewhere in the castle. He climbs over the bodies of his fallen comrades, their chopped-off heads lying beside them. Room after room is filled with their blood and heads, so many heads.

    These vampires have been good. They have been trying to bring peace to their volatile community. But the witches think they know better. Kill all vampires except for the select few is their edict; the vampires who survive will become slaves to these witches.

    He must find him before he runs out of time. He yells, “Where is he?” The few left alive only shrug their shoulders at him. He climbs the stone steps to the tower. His pupil loves to paint pictures of the castle, its landscape, and its people. He’s too soft and artistic for the job that lies before him. He will have to harden himself and behave like a vampire. His people need him now.

    He reaches the top room of the tower and swings open the stone door. Inside, he spots his pupil painting. He moves closer. He is painting a picture of the damn sky. There is fighting and death all around him, but he just sits there and paints. “What is wrong with you?” He rushes into the room.

    The disciple looks up from the easel. Paint is smeared across his face and on his fingers. “Nothing,” he says looking back down at his painting.

    “You’re painting while our men are dying.” He stares down at the stranger sitting before him.

    “I can’t do anything about it.” He continues to paint, slow meticulous strokes.

    “Of course you can. You can fight like a man.”

    “You never trained me for battle. I’m not prepared.”

    “There’s no time to prepare you. You must replace me as the leader.”

    “I can’t.” His bottom lip trembles.

    “I’m dying. You have to take my place or all will die today.”

    “You will live forever. You can’t die.”

    “I’ve been cursed by the damned witches and I have but a few hours left on this earth.” He sits down as weakness begins to overwhelm him. He can’t continue on for much longer.

    “Find someone to reverse the spell.” The disciple stands up to pace around the room, running his fingers through his thick, black hair to push it back from his high forehead.

    “Please sit. I must tell you the vampire legend and how you will continue in my place.”

    The disciple is about to open his mouth to protest, but Dracula raises his hand to stop him. “The legend began with me. One night, I was bitten by a large creature. It was dark and I couldn’t see what it was. I was fine for a while until I began to crave blood. At first, I drank animal blood to assuage the need in me. I ate anything I could get my hands on: dogs, cats, and even wildlife. I was stronger and quicker than any other animal. I was the king of the jungle, but I was alone.

    “As a young man I fell in love with a woman. A beautiful woman with long, black hair and violet colored eyes. Her name was Sari. She wanted to marry me. I tried to explain to her my unique condition. She was horrified by me and ran away. I caught her, drained her blood, and then brought her back to life with my own blood. She became one like me. She despised me and ran away again. I let her go. I never saw her again.

    “Afterward, I was determined to feed only on animals and not on humans. I’ve had good times and bad times. I’ve turned people into vampires, who’ve turned vampires of their own. At one point, we had a large army of vicious creatures, who slaughtered humans for fun. I knew it couldn’t go on like that forever. We would be forced into extinction once mankind found out about us. After years of wars between vampires, we at last found ourselves in a better place; at peace with humans and between the different factions of vampires.

    “Our secret is now safe and hidden from humans. Vampires only hunt when needed. Most are satisfied with animal blood. We need the extra protein in blood to sustain us. This attack by the witch Neva has ruined everything. I and most of my followers will be killed by her spell. By morning this will be a deserted castle with only the dead as its occupants. She doesn’t know about you, so you should be safe for now. You must carry on my mission.”

    “What is your mission?”

    “We must keep our secret safe. Vampires must be careful never to allow the humans to become suspicious of us.  Only kill when necessary and only kill animals for their blood.

    “And even more important, you must keep your identity a secret from the others. No one can know that you are my replacement. You are to keep an eye on the vampire population and make sure that none of them stray from the rules. And you are never to assume control unless you are asked to.”

    “What happens now?”

    “The Watchers, a select group of vampires, will watch over the activities of all vampires and they will train you. They are a secret society only known to me. They will keep you and your secret safe.”

    Blood began to drip out of Dracula’s mouth. He stood up and walked across the room to his pupil. The disciple stood to grasp hold of his beloved mentor and teacher. 

    Before his last breath, Dracula kissed him on the forehead and said, “Take care, my son. I will be watching over you. You will not be alone. Keep safe. And keep secret. Goodbye my beloved Hayden…”

    Hayden is left holding his dead master in his arms while the battle rages around him. He allows himself a few tears to fall from his eyes in honor of his lost leader.

THE DEAD GAME

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Please follow this link back to the Goodreads’ Story Hop: 

https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/18053739-the-story-hop-let-us-fire-your-imagination

A MEMORY

"Take a long walk on a short pier"
was my father's favorite line.
Assuming he wanted to get rid of me,
I walked away.
Hurt.
We weren’t close.
We never talked.
But he could have been sharing with me.
His love of the sea.
A Marine in World War II,
he loved boats and the sea.
Now when I look at the ocean,
I think of him.

WHAT I CHERISH MOST — THE CHERISHED BLOGFEST

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.

Neil was the type of person who lit up a room when he entered it. He was 6’2”, but it wasn’t his height that drew others’ eyes. It was his dynamic personality and his intelligence. Those grey eyes mirrored his great intellect and capacity for greatness. He acted as my father when my father wasn’t home but working long days and nights driving a taxi. He took care of my blind mother until I was old enough to help out. He sheltered me as much as he could from life and responsibilities. He shouldered these burdens himself.

He did well in college but he flourished in the business world. He traded on the Commodity Exchange until he had enough money to take over a Fortune 500 company. With a majority share in its stock, he took over American Bakeries. Taystee Bread was never going to be the same. He took me along on his ride to stardom. I worked for him on the Exchange and in his offices on Madison Avenue, New York. I majored in Finance at New York University, preparing to join him. All was going well for once in my life and in my brother’s life. My parents were proud. He helped them out. All was perfect until that awful phone call in the middle of the night.

My lights went out. All the light in the world was gone for me. I was stuck in darkness as dark and deep as the one my mother lived in. My brother had been in a car accident in the Hamptons. His fancy, red Porsche had hydroplaned on the wet roads. Neil was a great driver with quick reflexes. He drove the car off the road and onto the grass. Luck wasn’t with him. A truck was parked in his path and the Porsche crashed beneath it.

Neil was in a coma for two years before he passed away. Meanwhile, his so-called friends at American Bakeries were undermining his position at the company causing the stock price to drastically plummet. We had to sell off his investment in one big chunk at a big loss. Most of his money was tied up with this company. It took me eight years to settle his estate.

I got an M.B.A. in Finance but high finance soon lost its appeal to me. I worked at different investment companies. Then I made the big decision to become a full-time mom for my two beautiful daughters. I devoted myself to them. I took on part-time jobs in the financial field, but I was always available if they needed me.

The big 50 was approaching and I was beginning to feel that I had lost out on life. My brother and then both my parents had passed away. My daughters were beginning their own lives. I needed a focus, a reason for my life. My book, The Dead Game, took me ten years to write.

My life had taken many unexpected twists and turns. Memories of my brother followed me across every speed bump; thoughts of what Neil would have done in each situation kept me company. I don’t have my brother any longer but I have his memories. I also have a cherished picture of him standing alongside Mayor Ed Koch when they had met to discuss the possibility of moving the American Bakeries’ factory to New York City. It’s proudly displayed in my house and now for everyone on my blog to see.

FATHER TIME

kidmograph:

GTWY

Time is a force.
A presence we are
all too familiar with.
It leads us to the unknown.
It takes us on a bumpy ride.
A ride that can stop at any moment
to throw us off.
We hold on for dear life,
but we never know when
our precious time will be up.
We pray to it.
Hold on to it.
It is our master,
holding our reigns
in its mighty hands.
Hands that can be gentle
or tough and unyielding.
Please be gentle with us,
Father time.

TAKE A WALK

cornersoftheworld:

When my father used to tell me to take
a long walk on a short pier,
I had a picture like this in mind.
Maybe he wasn’t trying to get rid of me,
but pointing me in the right direction.
He was telling me to open my mind
and look out at the water.
He loved the ocean with its changing
moods and colors.
Now when I look out at the ocean, I think of him.