Uvi Poznansky's Blog, page 103

Marriage before Death: the audiobook is here! Take a listen

Doing the happy dance! The audiobook edition of my WWII spy thriller Marriage before Death, narrated by Don Warrick, has just been released! 
This is volume V of my series, Still Life with Memories, but like the previous volumes it can be read as a standalone novel. 
In designing the cover I was inspired by Lenny’s impression of the girl with the red beret: “a slender girl whose hair was covered. It was tucked into a red beret, which was tilted, a bit whimsically, over her head.”  Because this cover depicts a later scene in the story, some of her hair has slinked out of her beret. 
In another scene, where he is about to be selected to die, he describes her coming into the selection court. “I had never known her to paint her lips and was astonished at how brightly they were outlined, how red. Oh, how seductive she looked! How different from the girl I used to know!” 
In the background is a dark forest, into which she has parachuted shortly before D-Day. A faint, subtle texture of branches appears also inside the word Death in the title. The forest is where she meets with bands of French Resistance Fighters, and where she promises to “make the sky rain weapons” for them.
Here is an excerpt:


Her smack set me back on my heels. My sweetheart had always kept her emotions in check. She never shouted, let alone raised her hand on anyone. This was not only vulgar, it was far beneath her! Even for a diva, this was much too theatrical! Why was she behaving with such blatant lack of restraint?I got the answer at once and hoped no one else did. Quicker than anyone could take note, she placed something, a little soft thing into my hand. My fingers clasped it of their own, before I realized what she was doing. The next second—to distract the others—she threw the glass she was holding, threw it at my feet with a dramatic, spectacular flair. There was an awful noise as it hit the floor and broke to pieces, shards pinging against the floor.Without uttering a sound I gave her a look, begging her to leave. Rochelle—no, Natasha—gave one to me, begging me to play along. Out loud she said, “Oh how I hate you! I hate you now more than I ever loved you!”At that, the SS officer burst out  laughing. It lasted quite a while, or so it seemed to me, and by the time it finally ended, a cruel smile was left across his face, stretching from one pointy ear to the other. “Ach,” he hissed. “What a woman! Cold one minute—hot the next!”Rochelle hung her eyes on me one more time. “At the very least,” she implored, “you should say you are sorry, so sorry to have left me in such a difficult situation!”The SS officer cut in. “Didn’t I tell you?” he asked her. “His kind, they have no morals! Worse than animals is what they are.”She turned away and went back to his side. From there she said, in a tone of regret, “Right you are. I was naive, up to now, to hope for anything different from him.”Over her sorrow, the SS officer went on to say, “How could you ever let yourself be seduced by such a man?”She shook her head. “How silly of me! How foolish it is to hope! I was sure he would confirm to everyone here his desire to marry me.”To which the SS officer said, “Now, mademoiselle, you have learned your lesson.”She gave him a tearful smile, but then could not help crying out to me, “Oh, for heaven’s sake, don’t you get it? I’m expecting your child!”At that I had a change of heart. Why? First, because I was moved to tears by her plea, no matter if it was a fake one or not; and second, because what had I got to lose? So I uttered, “Forgive me, Rochelle.” “What?” she asked. “What did you say?”“Forgive me,” I said, with a catch in my throat. “If I were a free man I would gladly keep my promise to you.”A triumphant smile played on her red lips. Yet, for just a moment, she was silent.I thought she might make peace with me, now that I relented. Instead, she turned to the SS officer.“Herr Müller,” she said. “I’m not here to beg for mercy for this man.”In surprise, “You’re not?” he asked, raising a thick eyebrow. And from the other side of the table, his French collaborator echoed, “You’re not?”My face was still burning, still stinging from that slap of hers. I bit my lips to overcome the pain. If I could muster the nerve to speak up once more, I would ask her the very same thing. Really? You’re not?“No,” she stressed.The toothbrush mustache under Herr Müller’s nose started to twitch. Perhaps he was becoming suspicious of her. “I thought,” he said, “that you had a big favor to ask of me.”And she said, “I do.”And he said, “Well? What is it, then?”“For the sake of my family,” said Rochelle, “for the pride of my father, for my own honor, and for the future of this baby, I cannot be an unwed mother! I’d rather die!”Becoming somewhat impatient, “Ach!” he said. “You should have thought of that earlier, before you got involved with the likes of him.”It was then that she said, “I promise, Herr Müller, giving me what I ask for is sure to give you the greatest pleasure, because it is just what this man deserves.”“Which is what?”
“Marriage before death.”
To listen to this excerpt--used for the five-minute voice clip--click the image and click the Play icon.


★ Love reading? Get this series ★Still Life with Memories
Volume V: Marriage before DeathEbook: Kindle ★ Nook ★ Apple ★ Kobo ★ SmashwordsPaperback: Amazon ★ Barnes&NobleAudiobook: Amazon US★ Amazon UK★ Audible ★ iTunes

It brought magic to the season

They had been baking fresh cookies to take to some of the elderly shut-ins around town.  They reminisced and laughed and occasionally cried, as they sprinkled colored sugar on the cut outs. It had been one of those priceless days she tucked away in her memory to warm herself down the road. She looked at the list before her, and felt giddy at all the lines that she had already crossed off. It was shaping up to be a peaceful family holiday, with all the tasks to make it come off without a hitch under her belt. She put a foot up, and like she did many mornings since the snow had started to fall, looked out of the big bay windows admiring the radiant glory of all the pristine white. She loved a snow covered Christmas. It was the delightful remembrance of youth that brought magic to the season. She sipped the hot chocolate, and watched the flakes flutter and dance in the air. Bryce would have loved the view. She remembered the Christmas just before his first deployment. They had both gone out into the yard, flopping down to make snow angels like they were ten year old children. He had hit her smack in the head with a snowball, which had started an epic war of which he claimed victory, though she still knew better. A small smile played around her lips.“Merry Christmas sweetie,” her mom said, startling her out of her walk down memory lane. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked, staring out the window.  

Excerpt from A Soldier's Promise by Angelica KateIncluded in  Love in Times of War

Love Romance? Give yourself the best Christmas gift:
Love in Times of War★ Kindle ★Free on Kindle Unlimited 

Black stitches decorated my face like garland on a Christmas tree

Each day, one of the nurses changed my bandages. My face felt stiff from the stitches and the wounds still hurt, but Dr. Crissanti said the skin was healing well.How would I know? I hadn’t seen the wounds yet.I was able to walk to the bathroom with the aid of a walker, and sipped protein drinks through a straw every three hours. My parents flew back home after ten days of comfort and support, satisfied I was no longer in danger. Before they left, they’d told me Ellie would be heading out shortly as well.What pained me the most is that she never came to see me.Three weeks after I was admitted, I finally summoned the courage to ask the nurse for a mirror.Anne handed it over. “Think of how handsome you’ll look after the plastic surgery.”Yay…I opened my good eye, and even though my vision was kind of blurry, what I saw looking back at me almost sent me to my knees.I looked – there were no other words for it – just like the Frankenstein monster.Black stitches decorated my face like garland on a Christmas tree. There was a patch covering my left eye, and my pasty skin was peeling, except where the three-week stubble of beard grew.The saving grace was I was spared seeing what was behind the eye patch.
Excerpt from When Sailors Play by Susan Jean RicciIncluded in  Love in Times of War

Love Romance? Give yourself the best Christmas gift:
Love in Times of War★ Kindle ★Free on Kindle Unlimited 

Standing under the gallows, hoping for a miracle

Up until this moment I had entertained the hope that she might have had some secret plan to save me. My despair had compelled me to believe it. Coming here in disguise—with that new, flower-laden hat and its little veil that changed her looks so much—showed me that Rochelle was fearless, especially at a time when she was wanted dead-or-alive. To deserve such notoriety, she must have forged some connections with French Resistance fighters, right? If so, couldn’t she pull some strings with them? Did they follow her to this place? Were they waiting in the wings to get me out of here, out of the hands of my captors? I recalled old western movies, which I used to watch with my dad and Uncle Shmeel back in my childhood. Closing my eyes I could feel the warmth, sitting in-between them in the darkened movie theatre. I could just see the silver screen. Up there was the victim, his larger-than-life face utterly pale as the noose was beginning to tighten around his neck. At that very moment, my heart raced. Uncle Shmeel would put his arm around my shoulder. “Don’t you worry, Lenny boy!” he would whisper, trying not to disturb the spectators around us. “Listen! Can you hear the hooves of horses, galloping?” “Uncle Shmeel,” I would whisper back, “how can I hear anything? This is a silent movie!”“Oh, but you can hear it,” he would reply, “inside your mind, inside your heart.”And my dad would assure me, “Relief is on the way, Lenny boy! The cowboys are coming, any moment now!” With that glimmer of hope I imagined myself now, just like that actor, standing under the gallows, hoping for a miracle. The rescue scene, exploding with a blaze of bullets, was sure to come, because my dad and Uncle Shmeel had promised it, because the plot had demanded it, and because how would the story capture your heart without the must-have happy end? Yes. The moment was almost here. I had to believe it, then and now.
But as soon as Rochelle uttered the words Marriage before Death, my hope crumbled. 
Lenny in Marriage before DeathNarrated by Don Warrick



★ Love reading? Get this series ★Still Life with Memories
Volume V: Marriage before DeathEbook: Kindle ★ Nook ★ Apple ★ Kobo ★ Smashwords
Paperback: Amazon ★ Barnes&Noble
Audiobook: Coming soon


"The story of how they survived such horrors is extraordinary. Also extraordinary is the author's deep and gorgeous writing, interweaving desperation with descriptions of 'beautiful light streaming from high-arched, stained glass windows, rattling in the duel between the German artillery and ours.'"  -  J.A. Schneider, author of suspense and psychological thrillers

standing under the gallows, hoping for a miracle

Up until this moment I had entertained the hope that she might have had some secret plan to save me. My despair had compelled me to believe it. Coming here in disguise—with that new, flower-laden hat and its little veil that changed her looks so much—showed me that Rochelle was fearless, especially at a time when she was wanted dead-or-alive. To deserve such notoriety, she must have forged some connections with French Resistance fighters, right? If so, couldn’t she pull some strings with them? Did they follow her to this place? Were they waiting in the wings to get me out of here, out of the hands of my captors? I recalled old western movies, which I used to watch with my dad and Uncle Shmeel back in my childhood. Closing my eyes I could feel the warmth, sitting in-between them in the darkened movie theatre. I could just see the silver screen. Up there was the victim, his larger-than-life face utterly pale as the noose was beginning to tighten around his neck. At that very moment, my heart raced. Uncle Shmeel would put his arm around my shoulder. “Don’t you worry, Lenny boy!” he would whisper, trying not to disturb the spectators around us. “Listen! Can you hear the hooves of horses, galloping?” “Uncle Shmeel,” I would whisper back, “how can I hear anything? This is a silent movie!”“Oh, but you can hear it,” he would reply, “inside your mind, inside your heart.”And my dad would assure me, “Relief is on the way, Lenny boy! The cowboys are coming, any moment now!” With that glimmer of hope I imagined myself now, just like that actor, standing under the gallows, hoping for a miracle. The rescue scene, exploding with a blaze of bullets, was sure to come, because my dad and Uncle Shmeel had promised it, because the plot had demanded it, and because how would the story capture your heart without the must-have happy end? Yes. The moment was almost here. I had to believe it, then and now.
But as soon as Rochelle uttered the words Marriage before Death, my hope crumbled. 
Lenny in Marriage before DeathNarrated by Don Warrick



★ Love reading? Get this series ★Still Life with Memories
Volume V: Marriage before DeathEbook: Kindle ★ Nook ★ Apple ★ Kobo ★ Smashwords
Paperback: Amazon ★ Barnes&Noble
Audiobook: Coming soon


"The story of how they survived such horrors is extraordinary. Also extraordinary is the author's deep and gorgeous writing, interweaving desperation with descriptions of 'beautiful light streaming from high-arched, stained glass windows, rattling in the duel between the German artillery and ours.'"  -  J.A. Schneider, author of suspense and psychological thrillers

Cover reveal for the audiobook edition of Marriage before Death

My audiobook of my WWII spy thriller Marriage before Death, narrated by Don Warrick, is volume V of my series, Still Life with Memories. In designing the cover I was inspired by Lenny’s impression of the girl with the red beret: “a slender girl whose hair was covered. It was tucked into a red beret, which was tilted, a bit whimsically, over her head.”  Because this cover depicts a later scene in the story, some of her hair has slinked out of her beret. In another scene, where he is about to be selected to die, he describes her coming into the selection court. “I had never known her to paint her lips and was astonished at how brightly they were outlined, how red. Oh, how seductive she looked! How different from the girl I used to know!” 
In the background is a dark forest, into which she has parachuted shortly before D-Day. A faint, subtle texture of branches appears also inside the word Death in the title. The forest is where she meets with bands of French Resistance Fighters, and where she promises to “make the sky rain weapons” for them.



★ Love reading? Get this series ★Still Life with Memories
Volume V: Marriage before DeathEbook: Kindle ★ Nook ★ Apple ★ Kobo ★ Smashwords
Paperback: Amazon ★ Barnes&NobleAudiobook: Coming soon

This book breathes. And so do I.

Back in March this year, my latest novel--Marriage before Death--was still far from being finished. Even so I decided to touch base with my amazing narrator and friend, Don Warrick, to let him know a new project will soon need his talents. I wrote,
Just a little note to let you know that I’m half way into my new novel. It takes Lenny and Natasha to France, D-Day and beyond, and the way it’s going, it’s turning into a thriller. Very excited about it. At this point, the story seems to write itself.
And he answered back, with his endearing humor,
I can't wait! Don't forget that Uncle Schmeel spent significant time in Paris with a small jazz klezmer. Just sayin'.
Such is the power of suggestion: even though my character from an earlier novel, Uncle Shmeel, had not been planned to be part of the cast of characters here, he managed to find his way in, after this conversation, just because I had to hear Don Warrick voicing him again.
Meanwhile, Don was facing a challenge, a daunting challenge that would shake any one of us to the core. He had been diagnosed with cancer. He told me about it only much later, when it was time to start the actual work. He wrote,
I wish I could tell you that we have been having big fun this summer, but that hasn't exactly been the case.
On Wednesday of this week I finished an aggressive two months of treatment for throat cancer. I was diagnosed not long after I finished your last project and have been in the trenches fighting the battle until yesterday when I completed treatment.
My biggest worry of course was that the treatment would take my voice. According to all the medical professionals that were in the fight with me; the extremely aggressive treatment which I went through almost always results in damage to the vocal mechanism. Well, I hate to be a statistical outlier, but I am the miracle in this case. Throughout treatment I kept using my voice and performing and at the end of treatment - voila! My voice is fine and I beat the odds with a big stick.
When I went into treatment, I hesitated to let you know because the outlook wasn't very optimistic. But here I am, and thanks to God and a lot of prayers from a lot of people; me and my voice are on speaking terms.
I had no doubt that my characters needed Don to give them a voice, not just because he had inhabited them before and not just because he can step into their skin at the drop of a hat, but because he IS them. And so, the work began.
Now, when the project is done, I asked Don to write his thoughts, as I am always curious about the magic of his art and what it takes to create it, especially after what he had gone through. So now, let me share his thoughts:
This Book Breathes. And So Do I
My recording booth is tiny. The interior is painted black. When I am inside, I don’t see anything but the glow of the script and the globe of the mic. It is a sensory deprivation chamber in one sense, and a sensory generating chamber in another. For me it is a threshold leading into another world. As an actor I also know how precarious a tightrope that can be. If you’re not careful, not aware, you can fall off the rope and forget about the craft.
Uvi’s books bring me to the tipping point sometimes. Like the epilogue of her most recent work “Marriage before Death”. I know Lenny. I have been inhabiting him for quite a while now – but sometimes I am taken off guard by how real the emotions he feels become to me. Especially when I am in the mind of Lenny as an older guy. It is in these moments when I face his demons, that I face my own.
Back in June I was diagnosed with cancer of the throat. Yea, I had to let that sink in too. But after throwing a sufficient enough pity party for myself (everyone does it) I launched headfirst into the bizzaro-world of cancer treatment. It was intense and relentless. A weird psychodrama where I was plucked from my regular world into a fictional world. I could at times watch myself as the cancer and the treatment kicked my ass.
Then, after 13 weeks, they gave me a sticker and sent me home. For a week or so, I lolled around in my own mind, trying to remember normal. Then Uvi Called. A new book. A new project.
And I had no idea if I could find my way into the recording booth. It’s dark in there and only a step away in the wrong direction to bizzaro-land. My head and neck still radiated like meat that had been slow roasted. My strength had vanished with 40 pounds of body weight that I really didn’t have to lose. My wind was gone. But I still had voice. I could still make a resonant sound albeit a quiet one. The recording booth. It’s dark in there.
So Lenny and Natasha and Mama and Uncle Schmeal and a whole new cast of characters and I opened the door to the booth. It creaked. I sat down, and over the next few days recorded the book. I stayed on the tightrope (mostly) except for the final scene – the epilogue. I fell off a lot. I got scraped and bruised and brushed by characters who were reminding me of my own frailty.  I stopped and started and sputtered. And cried. A lot.
A couple of months later and the sky has cleared. The post production editing is done, and the geeks at ACX are putting our work through the qualifying process. Maybe Thanksgiving?
No, there is no doubt. Thanksgiving. Not a holiday, not the cultural Norman Rockwell landmark. Thanksgiving for the character and the author who didn’t give up on me. Thanksgiving for my wife, Uvi’s friend Deb, who cared for me like the sick child I was, with such unconditional love.
This latest book of ours has blood and bone in it. It has sinew and the fibers of human beings both real and imagined. This book breathes.
And so do I.
Deb and Don
Uvi and DebDeb is holding my poetry book, Home, which she got from Don as a birthday gift.(Behind us, over the mantel, is my oil painting that became the cover for the book.)

Don Warrick's Website
His body of work:
AudioBooks:
Marriage before Death by Uvi Poznansky (coming soon)
The Music of Us by Uvi Poznansky
Dancing with Air  by Uvi PoznanskyA Family Affair: The Promise (Truth in Lies, Book 7) by Mary Campisi 
A Family Affair: Winter (Truth in Lies, Book 6) by Mary Campisi 
A Family Affair: Christmas (Truth in Lies, Book 5) by Mary Campisi 
A Family Affair: Fall (Truth in Lies, Book 4) by Mary Campisi 
A Family Affair: Summer (Truth in Lies, Book 3) by Mary Campisi The Betrayed Trilogy: Boxed Set By Mary Campisi
Life on Mars by Michael J DawsonFlying With The Enemy: Memoir of a Young Cadet by Oleg V. OksevskiThe Last Lesson by Richard James Chance
The Song of Kings Book by Richard James Chance
The Box tThat Jane Built by Julie Elizabeth PowellChristmas Past by Julie Elizabeth PowellFigments by Julie Elizabeth Powell13 by Julie Elizabeth PowellLost Shadows by Julie Elizabeth Powell
Chakra: Maximize Your Potential Physically and Mentally by John Franz
Artistic DirectionDayton Playhouse, Dayton OhioCentral Ohio Professional Theatre, Columbus OhioCovered Bridge Theatre, North East Maryland,
PerformanceA Little Night Music - FredrickKiss Me Kate - PetruchioMack & Mable - Mack SennettMan of La Mancha - Don QuixoteSound of Music - Capt. von TrappSouth Pacific - Emile DeBequeSweeney Todd - SweeneyThe King and I - King of SiamTwo by Two - Noah The Grand Duke - The Grand DukeHMS Penafore - RalphPirates of Penzance - The Pirate King The Merry Widow - Danilo The Mikado - Nanki Poo Orpheus - MercuryLes deux aveugles - PatachonDie Fledermaus - EisensteinGianni Schicci - GerardoLa Boeheme - ParpignoLa Traviata - Georgio GermontMarriage of Figaro - Don BasillioThe Impressario - Herr EilerA Lion in Winter - HenryLend Me a Tenor - Tito MerrelliMedea - Jason Oleanna - JohnOn Golden Pond - NormanPlaza Suite - Jessie KipplingerThe Odd Couple - Felix The Rainmaker - StarbuckZoo Story - Jerry Brigadoon - Tommy AlbrightCamelot - ArthurCandide - CandideJacque Brel - Player Convenience - AbeFantastics - El GalloGodspell - JesusGuys and Dolls - Sky Masterson

In his own words: הַיּוֹם לֹא שָׂמֵחַ אֲנִי

אבי לא הסתופף בקרב הבוהימה התל-אביבית של אמנים ומשוררים. מחוץ לעבודתו הוא היה, כהגדרתו, זאב בודד. שלושת הספרים שפרסם—הנוכל עוד לאהוב, סכרים בפרץ, ומעבר לחלון איזה יום היום--נקראו רק על ידי יחידי סגולה. אך למרות ששירתו לא היתה ידועה, כל מילה שכתב מלאה חיים וכוח. והתקופה היצירתית האחרונה בחייו היא התקופה בה הגיע לשיאים חדשים. את הביטויים הפרחוניים השאיר מאחוריו, ובמקומם כתב בשפת יום יום שאותה זיכך לכלל כאב צרוף. כאב, למה? מפני שכאשר מלאו לו שבעים, אשתו עזבה אותו, ועד מותו בגיל תשעים וארבע נתן ביטוי לזעם, קנאה, אכזבה, בדידות, השלמה, תקווה, ופחד מן המוות המצפה לו. אז שימו בצד את ביאליק וטשרניחובסקי, וגלו את עצמתו של משורר בלתי ידוע: זאב כחל

הנה אחד משיריו
Not in Good Spirits
Today I am not in good spirits    Today I will laugh at myself,Against me I will lay all my betsAnd come face to face with myself
Today I’m sad, my heart beatsIn vain will I search for a friend,        Today I will wander the streetsAnd into temptations descend.
Soon night will fall, it will blackenMy own hand I’ll see only barely,As always I’ll go on, forsaken                          Before long I shall no longer be
Will my friends talk of me with contemptWill she listen? I am betrayed,Will they pass me by and attempt                   
To evade me in the grand masquerade?
הַיּוֹם לֹא שָׂמֵחַ אֲנִי
הַיּוֹם לֹא שָׂמֵחַ אֲנִיהַיּוֹם עַל עַצְמִי אֲלַגְלֵגהַיּוֹם אֶתְמוֹדֵד  עִם עַצְמִיהַיּוֹם מוּל עַצְמִי אֲשַׂחֵק.
הַיּוֹם קְצָת עָצוּב לִי בַּלֵּבהַיּוֹם אֲחַפֵּשׂ לִי רֵעִיםהַיּוֹם בָּרְחוֹבוֹת אֶסְתּוֹבֵבהַיּוֹם אֲחַפֵּשׂ פִּתוּיִים.
עוֹד מְעַט גַּם הַלַּיְלָה יֵרֵדוְגַם אֶת יָדִי לֹא אֲזַהֶהאַמְשִׁיךְ כְּמוֹ תָּמִיד פֹּה בּוֹדֵדעוֹד מְעַט גַּם אֲנִי לֹא אֶהְיֶה.
הַאִם יִלְעֲגוּ לִי רֵעַיהַאִם הִיא לַלַּעַג תַּקְשִׁיבהַאִם יַעַבְרוּ עַל פָּנַיבְּחַג מַסֵּכוֹת הַמַּרְהִיב?


בית. מילה פשוטה. מילה בעלת משמעויות מורכבות. מילה של לחש, מילה של זעקה. מילה של געגועים למקום מושלם, מקום שלעולם לא נמצאנו שוב.

ספר זה מכיל קובץ של שירים בשפת המקור, מפרי עטו של המשורר, הסופר והאמן זאב כחל. השירים נכתבו בערוב ימיו ונתגלו על ידי בתו, אובי פוזננסקי, בזמן השבעה. שש שנים מאוחר יותר, היא תרגמה את הקובץ לאנגלית ופרסמה אותו, יחד עם מבחר משיריה:Home


★ Inspired by poetry? Give yourself a gift ★
HomeFREE Ebook: Kindle ★ Nook ★ Apple ★ Kobo ★ Smashwords Audiobook: Amazon ★ Audible Paperback: Amazon ★ Barnes&Noble
NEW! in Hebrew: ביתEbook: Kindle ★ Apple ★ Smashwords Paperback: Amazon ★ Barnes&Noble
"This radiant book is an exploration of the bond between a daughter and father and the book overflows with some of the most eloquent poetic moments in print. HOME is an invitation, a very personal one, and should not be passed over."
-Grady Harp, Hall of Fame Reviewer

A Christmas Carol

Boy do I have a special treat for you--and it is best enjoyed right now, with the holidays fast approaching! But first, prepare yourself: relax into a soft armchair, preferably by the fireplace, and have something soothing to drink, such as eggnog.


So now, here is a wonderful performance of Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. For the very few who never heard about it, this is the story of Ebenezer Scrooge, an old miser who is visited by the ghost of his former business partner Jacob Marley and the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Yet to Come. After their visits Scrooge is transformed into a kinder, gentler man. You'll love to hate Scrooge. You'll enjoy this amazingly witty writing.

Take a listen. And if you wonder about these wonderful voices, they all belong to one magical performer: Don Warrick. He is an actor, Teacher, performer, choral conductor, and audiobook producer. If that's not enough he is also a whole cast of characters from my books and from other books penned by my fellow authors. 

I have been blessed to work with him on two audiobook projects, and we are working on the third one, Marriage before Death, as we speak. Don is a man of all ages; and he can become a woman at the drop of a coin, changing accents while he's at it... So sit back and let him sweep you away to a different place, a different time:

Christmas Carol: part I



Christmas Carol: part II



Christmas Carol: Part III


Don Warrick's Website
His body of work:
AudioBooks:
Marriage before Death by Uvi Poznansky (coming soon)
The Music of Us by Uvi Poznansky
Dancing with Air  by Uvi PoznanskyA Family Affair: Summer (Truth in Lies, Book 3) by Mary Campisi The Betrayed Trilogy: Boxed Set By Mary CampisiFlying With The Enemy: Memoir of a Young Cadet by Oleg V. OksevskiThe Song of Kings Book by R J ChanceChristmas Past by Julie Elizabeth PowellFigments by Julie Elizabeth Powell13 by Julie Elizabeth PowellLost Shadows by Julie Elizabeth Powell
Artistic DirectionDayton Playhouse, Dayton OhioCentral Ohio Professional Theatre, Columbus OhioCovered Bridge Theatre, North East Maryland,
PerformanceA Little Night Music - FredrickKiss Me Kate - PetruchioMack & Mable - Mack SennettMan of La Mancha - Don QuixoteSound of Music - Capt. von TrappSouth Pacific - Emile DeBequeSweeney Todd - SweeneyThe King and I - King of SiamTwo by Two - Noah The Grand Duke - The Grand DukeHMS Penafore - RalphPirates of Penzance - The Pirate King The Merry Widow - Danilo The Mikado - Nanki Poo Orpheus - MercuryLes deux aveugles - PatachonDie Fledermaus - EisensteinGianni Schicci - GerardoLa Boeheme - ParpignoLa Traviata - Georgio GermontMarriage of Figaro - Don BasillioThe Impressario - Herr EilerA Lion in Winter - HenryLend Me a Tenor - Tito MerrelliMedea - Jason Oleanna - JohnOn Golden Pond - NormanPlaza Suite - Jessie KipplingerThe Odd Couple - Felix The Rainmaker - StarbuckZoo Story - Jerry Brigadoon - Tommy AlbrightCamelot - ArthurCandide - CandideJacque Brel - Player Convenience - AbeFantastics - El GalloGodspell - JesusGuys and Dolls - Sky Masterson

The traitor caught my wrist and sunk his teeth into it

Having reached bottom I caught his arm and twisted it behind him till he screamed. He crumpled in agony. I pulled him down, bringing him on top of me, and there on the dirt we grappled, blow by savage blow. In this scuffle, there was no pretense of civility. No rules—except one: the man who got the upper hand would live to see another day. I punched him in the gut. He kicked me in the groin. With a grunt I rolled away. The traitor caught my wrist and sunk his teeth into it. Maddened by the bite I pulled my hand, pulled it free only to come back a moment later and cover his mouth, his nostrils. Gagging, he flailed his arms about, then sank to the ground. I relished the sound of his gasping, gasping for air. His bloodshot eye bored into mine. It seemed as if any second now, it would burst. The wounds across his neck, where my chain had choked him in our earlier fight, were smeared with dry blood. Under them, a vein that had been barely visible up to now began throbbing furiously. The beret he had taken from the boy fell from his head and rolled across the dust. He became limp. I thought he might pass out—but then, once more, he bit my hand. With a slight tremor in it, my grip started loosening. He squirmed away, only to come back at me with a blunt punch. Knock. Strike. Slap.With that last blow, a strange thing happened to me: time seemed to slow down. I saw his knuckled fist growing larger, coming at me. It seemed so dreamingly sluggish—until at last it hit me. My head bounced back. For a moment, everything around me became fuzzy. I wiped the sweat off my eyes, only to see his hunched figure— blurred, still—staggering into a stand over me. For a while, I must have lost consciousness. When I looked again he was not there anymore, only a hazy background hanging in his stead: distant blue smoke swirling into the sky, marred with ash. I was too weak to stir. Oh, how easy it would be to give it up, all this senseless suffering! But no: despite the pain, my body screamed to live. I propped myself up against a tree trunk, and wondered: Where was the traitor? Where did he go? 
Lenny in Marriage before DeathNarrated by Don Warrick

This scene happens in a forrest, and a fire is spreading from the armed cars that have just been ambushed by the French Resistance fighters. Lenny and the French collaborator, who has helped the Nazis in the selection process earlier, are at each other's throat.



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Paperback: Amazon ★ Barnes&Noble
Audiobook: Coming soon


"Uvi Poznansky raises the stakes in a high stakes story, filled with uncertainty, drama and suspense... This book is a nail biter and one I found hard to put down. For me, this is Uvi Poznansky's best novel to date."  - Richard Weatherly, Author