Uvi Poznansky's Blog, page 67

Do No Harm: Fatal Limit by @IngeGoss

The late September drizzle rain had turned into a downpour. Umbrellas banged into each other as their owners pushed through the crowd to get into the best position to cross the street first when the light changed.  A few teetered on the curb, ready to spring at a moment’s notice. Horns erupted in the rush hour traffic. The drivers had no intention of slowing down due the weather.  A woman slipped on the wet sidewalk and grabbed the arm of the closest passerby to prevent her from falling on the hard cement. The stranger gave her an indignant sneer, pushed her hand away, and hurried to the bus shelter to get out of the rain.  In the process, he bumped into me as I sat on the dry bench, watching the mayhem unfold.  Without giving even a hint of an apology, he bent his head and his steely gray eyes bore into me as if the whole incident was my fault. Maybe he was also blaming the weather on me.Ignoring him, but determined not to scoot closer to the edge of the bench to give him enough space to sit down, I gazed across the street and searched for Sheila, my best friend’s aunt, to emerge from the hospital. Her shift should have ended thirty minutes ago. I would’ve preferred to have stayed in my car to watch for her, but all the parking spots that provided a view of the hospital’s employee entrance were occupied. I parked in the lot behind the bus stop, walked to the bench, and waited for her.More people poured into the bus shelter, blocking my view. I stood and peered between the heads of two women just as a bus cut to the curb. No longer able to see the other side of the street, I moved away from the horde of people, opened my umbrella, and headed toward the crosswalk.  When I saw Sheila emerge from the hospital, I waved my hand in the air. With the rain and people scurrying about, I doubted she could see me in the crowd. Continuing along the sidewalk, I kept my eyes on Sheila and noticed she wasn’t wearing a raincoat or making any attempt to cover her head. Her soaking wet hair clung to the top of her nurse’s uniform, and she was staggering, her body swaying with each step she took. Still watching her, I made my way to the crosswalk. Sheila stopped walking and turned toward the hospital. A few seconds later, she swung around and moved in a zigzag path to the street. Sheila didn’t stop when she reached the curb.Standing on my side of the street, I screamed. “Stop…stop, Sheila.”A woman next to her gripped Sheila’s arm and said something to her.Sheila violently pushed the woman away, sending the helpful stranger into the crowd behind her.Breaks squealed. Tires screeched. But it wasn’t enough to prevent a black sedan from smashing into Sheila. Her body flew in the air, landed on the car hood, and slid to the pavement.Screams of witnesses pierced the night air.
Excerpt from Fatal Limit by Inge-Lise GossIncluded in Do No Harm

Preorder it now:Do No Harm Nook ★ Apple ★ Kobo

Cover reveal: Coma Confidential, audiobook edition

The audiobook edition of Coma Confidential is coming soon, narrated by the amazing Heather Jane Hogan, whose voice has captured my heart ever since she narrated my Women's Fiction book My Own Voice (which is included in Apart from Love) and my Dark Fantasy book Twisted. She can step into the skin of any one of my heroines, no matter their age or accent, and give them a voice.

In designing the cover for Coma Confidential, I wanted Ash to direct her gaze at you, so that her story can be told in the most intimate way, even if no one else but you can hear it. I imagined Ash floating in her own neural network. Here she is, describing it in her own words: 

I feel like a fish in a fishbowl, hovering just behind the glass. I watch them watching me. Correction: Since I can’t see, my fishbowl is opaque. All I can do is listen to them watching me.Dr. Patel explains to his audience that in my state, I can’t open my eyes. He adds that in the second stage of coma, also known as vegetative state—which unfortunately, I have yet to reach—patients may open their eyes, but they can’t interact with others. They can’t talk.Too bad. I have a long way to go before I can be called normal.How does he classify patients who can, somehow, lift their pinky toe? That’s the one thing I’d like to know. Can someone raise this question with him? No. Nobody does. Dr. Patel goes on lecturing his students about the brain, about improving the efficiency of neurotransmitters in it, which allows signals to pass from one neuron to the next across contact points called synapses. At first I find myself bored.I would yawn, if only I could. Then, his presentation conjures up an image in my mind. I picture myself half submerged in the neural network of the brain. It looks like a fishnet, where a million squiggling limbs have been swept up, limbs that are visible not only at the upper surface but also down there, at layers beneath layers of its depth.Nerve signals are shooting around me every which way, traveling across the contact points between one limb and another. Limbs and synapses, synapses and limbs, with no limit but imagination.I know that what I’ve created in my mind is not real—but even so, it overwhelms me. Caught under the surface, I struggle for air. An unexpected tide rises around my face, my nose. It’s touch and go. I may drown, or I may float over this constantly wriggling neural network and manage, somehow, to live on.

Coma Confidential(Volume I of Ash Suspense Thrillers with a Dash of Romance)Audiobook: Paperback: Amazon
Ash finds herself in the ER diagnosed with coma. She has no memory of what has happened to her, but what she can do--despite what everyone around her might think--is listen to the conversations of her visitors. Will she survive the power outage in the hospital and then, being kidnapped out of it? 

Do No Harm: The Healer by @CFFBooks

The tired, small hatchback hit a rock next to the edge of the road and came to an unexpected and abrupt stop. Erica had not seen the bulky thing hidden underneath the uncut grass. She switched off the engine and got out. There seemed no significant damage to her old banger but she couldn’t care less right now, to be honest, and decided she would leave it parked here anyway. She must be close.Quite frankly, she considered herself lucky to have made it this far; the roads had been bumpy and her car was in a dire condition, too. It wouldn’t be much longer before it would have to be scrapped. Living in London she rarely needed it and had often been tempted to sell it anyway.This was deepest Wales, the countryside - something that the Londoner in her had not seen for years and certainly hadn’t missed. Poor phone reception, miles to the nearest supermarket with its supplies of cigarettes and bubbly: that’s what the countryside meant to her.She guessed the car was sufficiently off the road and out of the way. Who would come here, anyway? It was unlikely that two cars would find this remote corner of Wales at the same time, she reckoned. Erica looked around: not a living soul in sight, no houses or vehicles; she was totally off the beaten track. She could see no significant landmarks; all views were blocked by large trees and hedges. It was drizzling a little and although it was past lunchtime, there was mist that reminded her of early mornings. The wind had made the spring temperatures drop more than she had anticipated and she was chilly in her inadequate city clothing.She searched her purse for the map, which her assistant Hilda had drawn for her. It seemed as if she was in the right place; there was the small path at the foot of the hill, and the two opposing gates leading to fields with horses and sheep. Since leaving her nearby B&B, all the road junctions she had come to had been easy to recognise and here was the little shoulder by the side of the road, where Hilda had recommended she should park the car.She assured herself once more that it was the right path and then she psyched herself up for the walk up the steep hill. The tricky part, Hilda had explained, was finding the hidden gate, which would lead her to the man himself. However, Hilda didn’t have pancreatic cancer and was not recovering from a course of chemo and so she had no idea how difficult it would be for Erica to walk up that hill. It seemed by no means the easy climb her assistant had called it. For all her recent goodness, that woman could drive her mad.Erica looked at herself in the outside mirror of her car before getting ready to face the man. Her hair had not fallen out from the chemo but it had turned grey and made her look much older than she was. There were still crow’s feet and wrinkles despite being facially bloated – it really wasn’t fair; the worst of both worlds. People used to think of Erica as at least five years younger than she actually was, but now people thought she was five years older. Overnight it seemed, she had aged from 40 to 50 but given her current situation she would be lucky to reach 45. Additionally, she had lost a lot of weight, despite the effect that the steroids had had on her. With her mere 5’ 4’’ frame, she looked tiny and felt thin and weak.Only this man might be able to improve her chances and she desperately hoped the trip here would be worth it. If the man really was who Hilda thought, there was a slight chance for her. If she could make him speak to her, then she was sure she could persuade him to help - if he still possessed those powers. There suddenly seemed a lot of ifs.She locked the car and began the climb up the tree-covered hill. Her trainers slid on the moist moss, her jeans too tight for some of the big steps she had to take. There was only a tiny trodden path, which seemed easy to lose sight of, curving its way upwardly through the trees. She was glad she had the map. Hilda deserved an award for organising this; if Erica ever made it back to her position at work she would make sure to find a way of compensating her, if she had anything left after she had paid the man.Her assistant had come here a few days ago and had scouted the place out in the manner of a gifted detective. Hilda had been an angel the last few months with an uncalled for loyalty and devotion which Erica felt she didn’t deserve. 
Excerpt from The Healer by Christoph FischerIncluded in Do No Harm

Preorder it now:Do No Harm Nook ★ Apple ★ Kobo

A Tale of Long Lasting Love

LISTENERShannon G
The Music of UsStill Life with Memories, Book 3By: Uvi PoznanskyNarrated by: Don Warrick A Tale of Long Lasting Love Overall  ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
    4 out of 5 starsPerformance  ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
    4 out of 5 starsStory  ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
    4 out of 5 starsReviewed: 04-06-19
This is a beautifully written story of just how love can see us through the most difficult times in life. Dealing with Alzheimer disease is a very hard thing to do and Uvi Poznansky does a wonderful job portraying everyone's emotions. The characters are nicely developed and the story well written. I enjoyed listening to the memories Lenny shared with us. Seeing the love form from a bud and blossom into a beautiful flower was wonderful. The narration was well done. Each character had their own voice and emotions. Don Warrick has a nice voice and read at a good pace. He helped to bring the story to life and made it more enjoyable. Even though this is book three you don't have to have listened to the other two to enjoy this one.

I was given this free review copy audio book at my request and have voluntarily left this review.

Relax Ma, I know what I’m doing

In the backyard, Ma is tossing a small stick for my golden retriever to fetch. But as I come in, Browny forgets all about the game and leaps up, almost knocking me over with the full force of happiness.My mother says, “I know you love chicken soup, Ash. I made some for you.” I say, “Smells delicious, all the way from the kitchen, Ma.”She smiles. “It’s been simmering all day.”Her hand runs ever so softly over my forehead, so I avoid telling her that I’m tired of the same old meal. I bet she also cooked some carrots and peas, but having been called a vegetable, I promised myself not to eat them.It’s time for a change. So, I decide to surprise her with a new recipe, which I learned a few months ago from my boyfriend. At the time, we cooked it together in his kitchen. Just thinking back to that evening makes me miss Michael so much. In recent weeks, I have lived in isolation. It allowed me to reflect on everything that has happened to me, so as to figure out where to go from here. And after all that time, the only thing I know for sure is that I pine for him. I long for the warmth of his embrace. I miss his passion. Am I ready, at long last, to rekindle it?I go to the kitchen, Browny’s paws tapping the floor close behind me. I heat some oil in a large saucepan, chop some garlic and onion and toss them in. Listening to the start of the sizzle, I sprinkle oregano, cumin and cinnamon. My golden retriever sniffs the air with great excitement.I cover the saucepan, letting the onion cook until it is tender. From time to time, I stir it. For good measure, I mix in chili powder and flour.Ma comes in just as I start whisking in her chicken broth.“Oh no!” She purses her lips in disapproval. “Why are you wasting it?”“Relax Ma,” I say. “I know what I’m doing.”“Do you?”“Yes, Ma! This is going to be great over chicken and rice. Mole sauce celebrates the flavors of traditional Mexican cuisine. And it has a special nutritional ingredient, which I find absolutely essential for my diet these days.”“Which is what?”“Chocolate.”She raises an eyebrow but says not a thing. Meanwhile, I increase the heat and cook until the liquid is reduced. Then I remove it from the heat, whisk in large chunks of dark chocolate. As they melt, I season the sauce with a pinch of salt and a dash of pepper.The aroma is simply exhilarating. When I pour the sauce over chicken and rice, the only thing Ma says is, “Mmm.”“Have a seat, Ma,” I say, carrying both plates to the table. “Today, we’re going to have a gourmet meal.”“Yes,” she says, looking at Browny, who is licking a drop of the sauce on the floor. “I’m hungry.”We eat. We lick the plates clean. We hug.
Excerpt from Coma Confidential

★ Love Suspense? Go for the ride ★Ash Suspense Thrillers with a Dash of Romance
Coma Confidential(Volume I of Ash Suspense Thrillers with a Dash of Romance)Paperback: Amazon
Ash finds herself in the ER diagnosed with coma. She has no memory of what has happened to her, but what she can do--despite what everyone around her might think--is listen to the conversations of her visitors. Will she survive the power outage in the hospital and then, being kidnapped out of it? 

A diary of memories

A short and sweet review for Apart from Love:

5.0 out of 5 stars A diary of memoriesApril 24, 2019
Format: Kindle EditionVerified Purchase A dark family drama. Very deep in content and form this is a story of memories and pain. Extremely well written and will leave the reader with darkness and light soulful thoughts.

Do No Harm: Savage Art by @danielle1girard

Crouched in the closet, he waited for the sounds of her arrival. Sweat pooled beneath the black gloves, but his face and neck were cool. The red light on the bedside clock read 11:47. She was never earlier than 11:36 and never later than 12:04. She would arrive momentarily. Anticipation ran like a blade across his skin, arousing each part of his anatomy.From his pocket, he found the patch of pink satin he had cut from the first one's panties, and rubbed it across his lips. Nearly three months had passed since that first time. Almost five years since his mother and sister, but he didn't count them with the others.For nearly five years, he'd been content, working in the morgue. Late at night, when he was there alone, he would do a bit of dissection, practice his skills. He was always sure to work on a victim who was headed out to a closed-casket funeral or to the crematorium so no one would wonder about his handiwork. It had been a satisfying experience.And then the idiot manager had caught him with one of the cadavers, a young woman, and had fired him. He'd felt himself explode at that moment, the trigger firing. He'd gotten into his car and driven it so fast, he'd gone right off the road. It had been a momentary release, to be free and flying.The doctors had told him that he was fortunate to be alive, but he knew it was more than that. He was chosen. Once he had healed, with a new face thanks to the accident, he'd found himself hunting for another patient.That was three months ago. He could still see the first one's body writhing for him, with him, against him. The satin caressed his neck, then his chest. He felt himself grow harder at the thought of her.Lucy, she had called herself. Lucy was a whore just like his mother. "Lucy," he whispered, pressing the cloth against himself.He smelled the satin, the scent of his own sweat and her blood and tears. The small triangle was the only thing he had allowed himself to keep. Soon, he would need to be rid of it, too. He gathered himself and returned the satin to his pocket. He let his body cool, using his mind to control its fierce desire, concentrating on his next work. For the one he'd just finished, he had fixated on the face, the center of pain. She had been a model. The face had seemed appropriate for her.As long as he could remember, he had dreamt of pulling the body apart, of cutting the skin from the organs, of seeing the body in pieces. Originally, he had also dreamed of putting it back together. But fixing was his sister Karen's job. You're not good enough—not smart enough, not motivated, not clever. He'd heard that often from their mother—the man-hating bitch. Not clever—he had shown them who was the most clever.Being a doctor was just like being an artist, and he had shown he was a wonderful artist. It took skill, and practice. And each time, he only got better. Soon, he would make the perfect doctor. They wouldn't deny him again.The metal tink of the key in the lock renewed his arousal. His fingers tingled with the closeness of her. FBI Agent Casey McKinley. No victim would be more enticing than she.Cincinnati rarely captured such high-profile visitors. She had come because of him. His art had drawn her. How he had longed to share his next work with her. Now he would. FBI Profiler Casey McKinley would be the next piece, perhaps his first masterpiece.
Excerpt from Savage Art by Danielle GirardIncluded in Do No Harm

Preorder it now:Do No Harm Nook ★ Apple ★ Kobo

The David Chronicles: Trilogy

Love the story of David?  The David Chronicles: Trilogy  describes the life of one of the most fascinating figures in history, starting from his youth, his ascension to the throne, and his struggles with his heirs during his old age: Rise to Power:
Here is the story of David as you have never heard it before: from the king himself, telling the unofficial version, the one he never allowed his court scribes to recount. Rooted in ancient lore, his is a surprisingly modern memoir.

Notorious for his contradictions, David is seen by others as a gifted court entertainer, a successful captain in Saul's army, a cunning fugitive, a traitor leading a gang of felons, and a ruthless raider of neighboring towns who leaves no witnesses behind. But how does he see himself, during this first phase of his life?
With his hands stained with blood, can he find an inner balance between conflicting drives: his ambition for the crown, his determination to survive the conflict with Saul, and his longing for purity, for a touch of the divine, as expressed so lyrically in his psalms?
A Peek at Bathsheba:
Against the backdrop of wars, raging within the land and without, David is growing into the mantle of leadership. Between his anointment as a tribal king and his anointment as the king of all of Israel, he uses wisdom, cunning, and his own understanding of the forces of history, aiming for high ideals: stopping the bloodshed, uniting the nation, and bringing about healing and peace. 
But then, having reached his peak, David falters. He makes a serious error that threatens to undo his political success, and cost him not only the adoration of his people--but also the sense of being sustained by a divine power. That error is the most torrid tale of passion ever told: his deliciously forbidden love for Bathsheba, followed by his attempt to cover up the ensuing scandal by sending her husband--who serves him faithfully in his army--to his death.
The Edge of Revolt:
David loves his sons. The last thing he expects is that they will topple him from the throne. Who among them will remain by his side? Who will be not only loyal, but also eager to continue his legacy?
For now, David remains silent, even as Amnon rapes Tamar, even as Absalom lures Amnon to his death. In families other than his, such crimes may be concealed. But when they occur in the king's family, they affect matters of the state, and result in his escape from the son he adores. Will he finds a way to quell the revolt and come back to the City of David?

The David Chronicles: TrilogyPaperback: Amazon
Includes three novels:Volume I: Rise to PowerVolume II: A Peek at BathshebaVolume III: The Edge of Revolt

The story of David and Goliath through the eyes of the masters

Love the story of David and Goliath? It is the quintessential win of the week against the mighty, the just against evil, and it intrigued artists across different cultures throughout history. Every moment of this fight, from the initial battle cry to the moment the giant falls down, astonished by his own defeat, is depicted in this book.  


Inspired by Art: Fighting GoliathPaperback: Amazon
Volume IV: Inspired by Art: Fighting GoliathPaperback: Amazon
Volume V: Inspired by Art: Fall of a GiantPaperback: Amazon
Volume VI: Inspired by Art: Rise to PowerPaperback: Amazon
Volume VII:Inspired by Art: A Peek at BathshebaPaperback: Amazon
Volume VIII:Inspired by Art: The Edge of RevoltPaperback: Amazon
Volume IX: Inspired by Art: The Last ConcubinePaperback: Amazon

Brutal murder with no suspects and a lot of drama

A short and sweet review for Virtually Lace:


Reading Renee 5.0 out of 5 stars Brutal murder with no suspects and a lot of dramaApril 22, 2019
Format: Kindle EditionVerified Purchase Book 1 was great and I finished this one in a day! The virtual part of the story is genius! To do a reenacted crime scene in most police and detective stories is nothing new BUT a virtual simulation is. WOW When the plot picks up, there are still NO suspects. I was frustrated with Ash not being able to remember but, that shows the author's skills.

The suspense is there with Michael and the solving aspect. The scenery, computer skills and mystery make this a great book!