Quotes About Suspense

ON THE MORNING I was scheduled to die

Charlie Carpenter rang Lily Sheehan's bell, and when she opened the door he gave her a blue rose. This stands for dying, for death. My daddy met the man who grew them, and when the man tried to run away my daddy shot him in the back.

With him inside the elevator descended.

That's right." The girl slowed down, spun on her heel and peered at the dark pavement. "The criminal, or japer, or whatever he is, painted the statue red. You know that; you saw the drops. He sloshed it with stripes, painted the hair red, too. And—" She smiled brightly. "Well, frankly, he severed the head, somehow. With a power cutting tool, evidently. Removed the head and placed it in the outstretched hand.

Watch tonight's episode. Someone might die.

Every clue was italicized with a burst of surging trumpets, and under questioning, the suspects snapped like toothpicks, buckling in less time than it took to soft-boil an egg.

am reading the Aldrich Ames spy Saga 1995 wherin Aldrich Ames one of the cold ward war's biggest moles in the cia was hunted and captured-love this kind of book,cant put it down

Too much mystery is merely an annoyance. Too much adventure is exhausting. And a little terror goes a long way.

like a scene from the swamps of Louisiana or the mind of Poe on opium.

The middle of a novel is a state of mind. Strange things happen in it. Time collapses.

The others forgot the work and the weather watching them throw. It was art. A thousand dollars a throw in Madison Square Garden wouldn't have gotten any more breathless suspense. It would have just been more people holding in.

For me, I would say that horror is my absolute favorite form of entertainment.

'Angel Heart' was one of my favorite films.

Is it thus with all our pleasures? Is suspense always better than enjoyment? Hope than fruition? Is it the rich who in very truth are the poor? Have we not both perhaps exaggerated feeling by giving to imagination too free a rein? There are times when this thought freezes me. Shall I tell you why? Because I am meditating another visit to the bottom of the garden — without Griffith. How far could I go in this direction?

Ambos carruajes estaban ya enlazados por el puente colgante de cintas, y la que lo ocasionaba sonreía de vez en cuando al galante muchacho.

His book The Nemesis Affair (New York: W. W. Norton, 1986), tells the story of how he and a colleague developed the

Keep the reader guessing about where events are happening, what historical period the characters live in, and whether at any given moment they are jogging, taking a steam bath, or dangling from a precipice. Try to create an absolute nothingness in which, from time to time, a phone receiver or a pair of pert breasts materializes as the protagonist forms the intention to use them.

Woodwork creaks and out come the freaks, eh?

What a place, George thought. Greasy, grim and ripe for murder.

Plotting is like sex. Plotting is about desire and satisfaction, anticipation and release. You have to arouse your reader's desire to know what happens, to unravel the mystery, to see good triumph. You have to sustain it, keep it warm, feed it, just a little bit, not too much at a time, as your story goes on. That's called suspense. It can bring desire to a frenzy, in which case you are in a good position to bring off a wonderful climax.

Lily Donaldson tiptoed to the front door and winced when it opened with a creak.

RITA finalist Colleen Coble is the author of several bestselling romantic suspense series, including the Mercy Falls series, the Lonestar

A second red-orange spearhead leaps straight at O'Shaughnessy. The whole world seems to stand still. Then the gun behind it crashes, and there's a cataclysm of pain all over him, and a shock goes through him as if he ran head-on into a stone wall. A voice from the car says blurredly, while the ground rushes up to meet him, 'Finish him up, you guys! I'm getting so I don't trust their looks no more, no matter how stiff they act!' ("Jane Brown's Body")

Maldonado's face was ghastly. 'That' she said, pointing below the bed where the cat lurked, 'and that' - pointing to what lay on the floor - 'prove it was no dream. Do dreams leave marks behind them?' ("I'm Dangerous Tonight")