Something went wrong. Please try your request again later.
Follow to get new release updates and improved recommendations
About Susana K. Marsch
Are you an author?
Help us improve our Author Pages by updating your bibliography and submitting a new or current image and biography.
Author Updates
-
-
Blog postElla Ella sat by the window; moonlight cast a silvery glow over the snow-covered ground and the smooth surface of the frozen lake. Stars scintillated in the heavens, and Ella marveled at how bright they seemed despite the moon’s radiant glow. The wind crooned through the window and picked up stray flurries that glittered like fluttering grains of sugar. Frost settled over the snow and froze the powdery fluff so that moonbeams caught the individual crystals here and there, sparkling like d
-
Blog postElla Ella sat by the window; moonlight cast a silvery glow over the snow-covered ground and the smooth surface of the frozen lake. Stars scintillated in the heavens, and Ella marveled at how bright they seemed despite the moon’s radiant glow. The wind crooned through the window and picked up stray flurries that glittered like fluttering grains of sugar. Frost settled over the snow and froze the powdery fluff so that moonbeams caught the individual crystals here and there, sparkling like d
-
Blog postOl’ Blue Eyes Knows Best “It’s like a sword slicing through you,” Patron said, and stared into his drink.
“Hmm,” Bartender wiped the counter.
It was just another day, another dollar for him. He poured people’s drinks, and they poured their souls onto the counter. Day and day out, Bartender wiped the troubles and sorrows that trickled onto the wooden countertop as the ice in the drinks melted.
Bartender’s job was to serve and wipe the troubles away.
“You ever f -
-
Blog postOl’ Blue Eyes Knows Best “It’s like a sword slicing through you,” Patron said, and stared into his drink.
“Hmm,” Bartender wiped the counter.
It was just another day, another dollar for him. He poured people’s drinks, and they poured their souls onto the counter. Day and day out, Bartender wiped the troubles and sorrows that trickled onto the wooden countertop as the ice in the drinks melted.
Bartender’s job was to serve and wipe the troubles away.
“You ever f -
Blog postReyna’s Oak The statue stood in the old graveyard since time immemorial. A stone woman sat on a throne and held up a goblet in an eternal salutation to the good life. The throne perched atop a tomb, and a tall, thick oak tree flanked it, like a sentinel protecting his queen. Time had smoothed the statue’s nose, eyes, and mouth into bumps and valleys, and the name on the tomb had faded into oblivion long ago.
The carved folds of her dress were now smooth lines covered in moss an -
Blog postReyna’s Oak The statue stood in the old graveyard since time immemorial. A stone woman sat on a throne and held up a goblet in an eternal salutation to the good life. The throne perched atop a tomb, and a tall, thick oak tree flanked it, like a sentinel protecting his queen. Time had smoothed the statue’s nose, eyes, and mouth into bumps and valleys, and the name on the tomb had faded into oblivion long ago.
The carved folds of her dress were now smooth lines covered in moss an -
Blog postStrangers “Hey, Lori,” Joe called, “come see!”
He stood by the window that peered out to the meadow beyond the backyard’s wrought-iron fence.
Lori joined him.
“What do you make of this?” He asked.
She followed his gaze to where a young man was lighting a campfire. He was tall and muscled and Lori thought he was “ruggedly handsome”, though she would never admit it to Joe.
“Are people allowed to camp here?” She asked.
“I dunno,” Joe replied -
Blog postStrangers “Hey, Lori,” Joe called, “come see!”
He stood by the window that peered out to the meadow beyond the backyard’s wrought-iron fence.
Lori joined him.
“What do you make of this?” He asked.
She followed his gaze to where a young man was lighting a campfire. He was tall and muscled and Lori thought he was “ruggedly handsome”, though she would never admit it to Joe.
“Are people allowed to camp here?” She asked.
“I dunno,” Joe replied -
Blog postNothing Special About the Lighthouse Irene crossed the street and followed the sidewalk to the beach entrance. She leaned on the stumpy seawall separating the beach from the sidewalk and took off her shoes. Summer was over, yet the weather remained warm. The salty breeze played with her hair, and the moonlight shone on the breaking waves. She crossed the sand and let the waves lick her warm feet. The icy water bit at her toes.
Irene stepped back, beyond the reach of the waves, and tr -
Blog postNothing Special About the Lighthouse Irene crossed the street and followed the sidewalk to the beach entrance. She leaned on the stumpy seawall separating the beach from the sidewalk and took off her shoes. Summer was over, yet the weather remained warm. The salty breeze played with her hair, and the moonlight shone on the breaking waves. She crossed the sand and let the waves lick her warm feet. The icy water bit at her toes.
Irene stepped back, beyond the reach of the waves, and tr -
Blog postThe Cutting Words Diane closed the door to her bedroom and broke down in tears. She placed her face in her hands to stifle them.
What for? The thought flashed unbidden. Who’s gonna to notice? Who’s gonna care?
She threw herself onto the bed and wept. The sky beyond her window darkened and sprinkled the world with starlight. Diane remained on the bed, gazing out at it through salt-filled eyes and puffy cheeks.
The worst thing about crying, Diane thought, is nasal -
Blog postThe Cutting Words Diane closed the door to her bedroom and broke down in tears. She placed her face in her hands to stifle them.
What for? The thought flashed unbidden. Who’s gonna to notice? Who’s gonna care?
She threw herself onto the bed and wept. The sky beyond her window darkened and sprinkled the world with starlight. Diane remained on the bed, gazing out at it through salt-filled eyes and puffy cheeks.
The worst thing about crying, Diane thought, is nasal -
Blog postTaps The tap-tap-tapping woke Lars every night. It did not frighten him; he convinced himself it was all part of the old house’s charm. He told himself it was all right since the home inspector found nothing of structural concern.
Little by little, since moving into the old house, he had gotten used to every creak and moan. He had identified the cause of most noises, save for the tap-tap-tapping. He could not explain it away. As the days passed, it got louder and louder. For the past -
Blog postTaps The tap-tap-tapping woke Lars every night. It did not frighten him; he convinced himself it was all part of the old house’s charm. He told himself it was all right since the home inspector found nothing of structural concern.
Little by little, since moving into the old house, he had gotten used to every creak and moan. He had identified the cause of most noises, save for the tap-tap-tapping. He could not explain it away. As the days passed, it got louder and louder. For the past -
Blog postGolden Goose Pat gave Lena the money and watched through the window as the dusky evening swallowed her up—Pat hoped—forever.
She closed the blinds; she must start dinner. Pat entered the kitchen and stared at the counter, now bathed in the evening light shining through the box windows. Dusk gleamed, its indigo hue broken by the last rays of sunlight that shot out of the earth and colored the fluffy bellies of the cloudy sky.
Pat took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and opened -
Blog postGolden Goose Pat gave Lena the money and watched through the window as the dusky evening swallowed her up—Pat hoped—forever.
She closed the blinds; she must start dinner. Pat entered the kitchen and stared at the counter, now bathed in the evening light shining through the box windows. Dusk gleamed, its indigo hue broken by the last rays of sunlight that shot out of the earth and colored the fluffy bellies of the cloudy sky.
Pat took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and opened -
Blog postAjar “What does tilting at windmills mean?” Colin asked Mom while she tucked in the bedcovers.
“Where did you hear that?”
“You told Dad to stop doing it.”
“Oh, well…” Mom furrowed her brow, searching for words, “tilting at windmills means battling imaginary monsters. Dad is under a lot of pressure at work, and sometimes, I think he sees problems and setbacks bigger than they are.”
“Oh, I see,” Colin answered, though he understood nothin -
Blog postAjar “What does tilting at windmills mean?” Colin asked Mom while she tucked in the bedcovers.
“Where did you hear that?”
“You told Dad to stop doing it.”
“Oh, well…” Mom furrowed her brow, searching for words, “tilting at windmills means battling imaginary monsters. Dad is under a lot of pressure at work, and sometimes, I think he sees problems and setbacks bigger than they are.”
“Oh, I see,” Colin answered, though he understood nothin -
Blog postFaults “You are a failure!” Harriet spat.
Spittle flew, her teeth gnashed, and her voice crackled through the darkened house.
“You are worth nothing, you have done nothing. You are a has-been, a washout, a failure! All the years I’ve wasted on you! After all I did, all my family did, you still failed!”
The spittle burst from her lipstick-stained teeth when she pronounced the letter F, as if she enjoyed sullying the world with it.
“All the handouts you to -
Blog postFaults “You are a failure!” Harriet spat.
Spittle flew, her teeth gnashed, and her voice crackled through the darkened house.
“You are worth nothing, you have done nothing. You are a has-been, a washout, a failure! All the years I’ve wasted on you! After all I did, all my family did, you still failed!”
The spittle burst from her lipstick-stained teeth when she pronounced the letter F, as if she enjoyed sullying the world with it.
“All the handouts you to
Titles By Susana K. Marsch
