Uvi Poznansky's Blog, page 68

Do No Harm: Outcome by @BarbaraEbel

Diana Devlin scanned the September night from the window of her Cessna 402 as the twin-engines purred. She enjoyed listening to the smooth and familiar motors. The mechanical music was like a fine symphony to her ears and part of her fastidious nature wanted to make sure nothing sounded amiss before she commanded her plane to cruise at 200 knots.Her passengers seated themselves in four of the six seats and placed their equipment, paperwork, and white jackets on the available floor space. She smoothed a soft wisp of butterscotch hair away from her forehead and peered outside to the FAA control tower and fixed-base operator office at Standiford Field. She would be back home in Louisville by morning depending on how fast things moved once the transplant team disembarked in Birmingham. Not that she was in a hurry. She had made trips for organ retrieval before and liked the adrenaline rush, the pressure of the medical necessity, and the involvement in saving a recipient’s life.Retrieving organs wasn’t even Diana’s main job. During weeks off from flying UPS cargo, she leased trips on her private plane. She planned on giving up flying UPS Boeing 757s by the time she turned fifty, in twelve more years, when her retirement assets would be dependable and flying would be at her discretion. She piloted her Cessna for sheer joy and exhilaration and charged handsomely for some excursions, but tonight’s trip, except to cover the cost of gas and landing fees, was charity. Her husband, Peter, was an anesthesiologist; they only partially depended on her full-time salary and didn’t need her extra-curricular income.A passenger’s voice broke into Diana’s thoughts. “It would be allowed for me to sit there? Up front?”Diana motioned to the right seat. “Go ahead. I’m pilot, co-pilot and crew. Seat’s empty.”Sukhdev Bhagat planted his buttocks into the seat and sighed after arranging himself. He was a large man with pudgy cheeks, dull black hair, and sloping eyebrows. He unfastened his top shirt button and folded his white coat on his lap. He was one of the two main surgeons for the impending liver transplant, but his partner stayed at Samaritan Hospital while he headed to procure the donor liver. A senior surgical resident accompanied him as well as a United Network organ representative and a registered nurse.Diana tuned the cockpit radio frequency to Louisville clearance. “Organ Life Zero One requesting clearance to Birmingham.”A voice on the other end crisply responded, “Organ Life Zero One cleared to Birmingham as filed, climb and maintain ten thousand feet. Contact ground on 121.7 for taxi.”“Roger,” Diana said. “Organ Life Zero One cleared to Birmingham as filed, climb and maintain ten thousand feet.” She looked at Dr. Bhagat and then craned her neck to see the passengers behind her. “Are all items secured and are you all buckled? And, are there any last minute questions regarding the emergency drill I gave you?”“We are ready,” the thirty-five year old surgeon said. “Your briefing did not involve us learning brain surgery.” He faced the right window and lowered his voice. “Please, let us get this plane moving.”Diana frowned but continued her eye contact with the other passengers. They nodded and she proceeded to switch frequencies as instructed.“Ground, Organ Life Zero One is ready to taxi with information Alpha.”“Organ Life Zero One cleared to taxi and hold short of Runway 17 Left via taxiway Echo,” said a voice from ground control.Diana read back the taxi clearance, released the brakes, and headed for the runway. Her 20/20 vision gauged the small truck to the side of the plane to be far enough away from her right wing.“Organ Life Zero One monitor tower on 124.2 for takeoff.”“Roger that.” Diana set the brakes and completed the before-takeoff checklist.“Organ Life Zero One ready?” queried a voice from the tower.Diana viewed the panorama to her left - the 150 foot wide runway and the white runway lights stretching forward 200 feet apart like white-spotted dominoes in the dark.“Tower, this is Organ Life Zero One ready for takeoff.”“Organ Life Zero One. Maintain runway heading. You are cleared for takeoff on Runway 17 Left.”Diana echoed the tower’s instructions, taxied onto the runway, and pushed the throttles forward. She quickly and methodically checked the engine instruments and the air speed indicator as the plane accelerated to takeoff speed.Inside the unpressurized aircraft, her passengers remained quiet. The spotless white plane rolled forward. Diana’s pulse quickened along with her accelerating toy. Her ears keyed to the roar of the engines, her sharp eyes to what lay before her as well as the incandescence passing to the right and left.But something wasn’t right…
Excerpt from Outcome, A Novel byBarbara EbelIncluded in Do No Harm

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

This medical thriller will have you holding your breath

I love this review so much that I'm tempted to steal it for the book blurb of Coma Confidential...


Kindred Spirit 5.0 out of 5 stars WOW!April 23, 2019
Format: Kindle EditionVerified Purchase This medical thriller will have you holding your breath. Written in first person, Coma Confidential draws the reader into the mind of the heroine, a young woman who barely survived a brutal beating and rape. Ash doesn’t remember what happened. She doesn’t even remember her name, but she’s aware of her surroundings and the people who come and go. Slowly, she pulls together the puzzle pieces and unravels the mystery...while the reader bites nails, hoping she’ll discover the culprits before it’s too late.

Not only is Ash battling to move to let someone know she’s aware—a finger or toe or her eyes—she’s frantic to discover what happened and who was responsible for her attack. When she finally realizes the truth, a whole new villain emerges and Ash must challenge herself…will her body to respond so she can save her own life.

A remarkable story of courage, strength, and survival. Without revealing spoilers, I’ll simply say don’t miss this beautifully written, lyrical story by USA Today Bestselling Author, Uvi Poznansky.

New! Paperback editions for six art collections

Just when you weren't looking, I created the paperback editions for the six art books in The David Chronicles series. Each one of these collections is curated around the events in King David's life, moment to moment across the work of masters of all ages. So you get the viewpoints of Rembrandt and Dali focusing in on the same moment of the story...

So if you fancy one of them, you can have it not only on your Kindle but on your coffee table too... Just in in time for Mother's Day, perhaps? Hint hint..


Inspired by Art: Fighting GoliathPaperback: AmazonVolume 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 Concubine Paperback: Amazon

Do No Harm: Shatter Proof by @JudithLucci

I jumped from my bed and crouched on the floor my arms folded around my head like fragile armor. My eyes searched the dark frantically for my enemy. Finally, I saw it. I saw the apparition of the monster – my father! His cruel eyes shone black and glittered with hate.  I waited, my breath ragged, for the noise. My body quivered with fear and anticipation. Terror consumed my soul as panic shot through my body. I waited for it to begin. My heart thudded against my ribcage. I placed my hand on my chest to keep it from exploding. I didn’t want to be discovered.A sharp noise - the slap! The noise echoed in the room.  My face dug into the floor as I tried to escape the sound of my enemy and his havoc. My brain emptied conscious thought as my sympathetic nervous system took charge and prepared my tiny body for action.  A second smack and a cry of pain. I heard bones crack. I felt a thousand eyes watch me. They scrutinized my every move. I was frightened, as terrified and panicked as I’d been years ago when I was three years old. The slap and splintered bones that shattered my life forever over 35 years ago.I felt a wisp of air touch my cheek as a large hand sliced through the air and separated the molecules. Another slap!  I heard bones crack.  The victim whimpered. The sob became a quiet moan.My mother lay crumpled like a broken doll as she cried softly on the floor near me. Her breathing sounded funny. My mother’s cheeks glistened with blood and tears. Her broken nose destroyed the symmetry of her beautiful face. Her long blonde hair was matted with blood. Radcliff-educated Melody Fitzpatrick, the daughter of a famous American diplomat, was a mass of crumpled flesh, blood and bones. My mother had fallen in love with a monster who now assaulted her body and mind, blinded by the love that only comes once in a lifetime.Of course, he wasn’t a monster when my mother married him – that came later when he became a jihadi terrorist, filled with hate for all things Western, including his once-devoted wife.I lay helpless for an eternity. I felt the sweat dry and evaporate from my body. I opened my eyes. It was dawn. I was at home, in my apartment, safe and sound in the outskirts of Washington DC.  I was safe.At least for now
Excerpt from Shutter Proof by Judith LucciIncluded in Do No Harm

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

A time that should not be forgotten

LISTENERA. Lee

Marriage Before Death: WWII Spy Thriller
Still Life with Memories, Book 5By: Uvi PoznanskyNarrated by: Don Warrick A time that should not be forgotten Overall ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
    5 out of 5 starsReviewed: 12-23-18
Uvi Poznanski writes of a time almost forgotten by those who were not there, the Freedom Fighters and their continuous fight to free France from the Nazis. This is the story of two individuals, a personal story. She has the ability to give life to the time, creating characters fighting for their beliefs. For lovers of war stories, romance, and spy stories.Was this review helpful for you?

Beautiful and fun book!

A short and sweet review for my illustrated children's book, Jess and Wiggle:


B Nelson 5.0 out of 5 stars Beautiful and fun book!April 19, 2019
Format: PaperbackVerified Purchase What a beautiful book! Such colorful and creative original illustrations, playful and whimsical hand lettering - each page is like a work of art. A joy! And then there is the story, written in rhyme. So sweet. "Jess and Wiggle (Imaginata Children's Books)" by Uvi Poznansky is like reading a dream. Everyone will love this delightful and imaginative book.

WWII Collection of Heart-Rendering Love

A short and sweet review for my WWII romance box set, Apart from War:


B. J. Robinson 5.0 out of 5 stars WWII Collection of Heart-Rendering LoveApril 18, 2019
Format: Kindle EditionVerified Purchase In this collection of WWII love stories, Lenny and Natasha had an unforgettable romance and love story from the 1940's through the 1970's. He was a marine. She was a concert pianist . Their story is heart-rendering. The author also includes Alzheinner Disease. If you enjoy WWII love stories, this is the collection for you, so don't miss it!

There came the sound of heavy footfalls down the corridor

He remembered how he had stood there, dumbfounded, in front of the body. Some distance away, a sailboat seemed to be floating in midair. From time to time, gusts of wind had filled her black sails.“Bring in a sailboat.” He pointed at a spot on the blue surface that represented ocean. Wiggling slightly over the blue, painted surface that signified water, there it came: a huge sailboat that seemed to fill the entire space of his office. Its keel formed the centerline at the bottom of the hull. It extended downward as a blade beneath the vessel, increasing its stability. From time to time it rubbed against the office floor, giving a shrill sound of friction.With a swift hand gesture, bringing together his thumb and forefinger, Michael shrunk the vessel down, till it appeared to be at same scale as the seascape underfoot. Flow vectors appeared, forming wavy blue pleats capped with foam, over which the sailboat started rocking. Meanwhile, Michael remembered Mr. Armstrong telling him how he had steered his sailboat away all by himself, how his muscles still ached from pulling up her sails. Just for fun, shouldn’t he place him aboard this vessel?“Create man.” Michael pointed at the deck. “Name him Mr. Strong.”A broadly constructed wire figure stepped out. It held on to the mast for dear life and occasionally, gave a sharp, abrasive pull to raise the black sails. “Let Mr. Strong wear a life jacket.”Selected at random from some e-commerce site such as eBay, an immensely thick vest appeared, featuring large armholes for unlimited range of motion. Its bright straps and adjustable belts tightened around the waist, to keep the vest snug and in place. It wrapped over the wire shoulders, barely concealing a somewhat crooked back. The sailboat wiggled about over the geometrical waves when—splash!—Mr. Strong fell off, nearly sinking between one blue pleat and another. He would dutifully climb back onboard, only to fall off and climb back again.Michael was determined to find out why this infinite loop started to play out. “Show me an internal view of the code.” A storm of pixels whipped across the space, settling here and there in small heaps of dust. Out of it grew long, straight links. These, in turn, produced round, hollow nodes that started to arrange themselves into a complex structure, a structure that represented logic and data. And just as Michael identified a broken link in the midst of it all, there came the sound of heavy footfalls down the corridor. His heart skipped a beat. “Stop,” he said hurriedly, and the structure melted away just as the office door swung open.In stepped the real Mr. Armstrong.
Excerpt from Virtually Lace

Virtually Lace(Volume II of Ash Suspense Thrillers with a Dash of Romance)Audible: US ★ UK ★ FR ★ DEAudiobook: Amazon US ★ Amazon UK ★ iTunesPaperback: Amazon ★ Barnes&Noble
Haunted by discovering the body of a beautiful dancer, Michael sets out to create a virtual reality simulation of her murder. Can he bring the mystery to life? Can he solve its clues in time, before the killer turns on the woman he loves, Ash?

Witness to a Murder Becomes the Prime Suspect

Richard Weatherly is the talented author of Closed Doors. I am honored to read his thoughtful review of Virtually Lace:



Richard L. Weatherly 5.0 out of 5 stars Witness to a Murder Becomes the Prime SuspectApril 17, 2019
Format: Kindle Edition Virtually Lace ads a new twist to the work of Uvi Poznanski. I’ve read most of the author’s work and have enjoyed each. Virtually Lace is no exception. In this novel Uvi relies on past experience as a designer and work as a software manager. This novel features extensive use of virtual reality to help clear Michael, the protagonist, of suspicion by the police.

As the story opens Michael is approaching the beach when he suddenly discovers the body of a beautiful dancer with her throat slashed.

It is sad when a person who experiences such a traumatic event finds himself the chief suspect of a police investigation. Michael repeatedly answers police questions truthfully but he becomes frustrated by their refusal to believe him.

Michael decides the best way to defend himself is to collect his memories and build a virtual reality simulation of the chain of events. He is fortunate that the woman he loves is a designer who can help with his project. Ironically, when Michael tried to enlist Ashley to assist with his projects at work, his manager refused to even consider his recommendation. As the story comes together, it seems the manager has engaged in nepotism by hiring a relative to assist Michael in his project rather than Ash.

Together, Michael and Ash eventually construct a comprehensive virtual reality simulation that is sufficiently detailed to finally convince police of his innocence.

As the book progresses, other events surrounding Michael and Ash begin to hint at the identity of the guilty party. At the same time, Ash is placed at risk of becoming a victim of the murderer who killed the girl Michael discovered. Virtually Lace is a fast paced, well crafted suspense novel by Uvi Posnanski that is sure to keep you turning pages. I highly recommend it.
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Do No Harm: The Marburg Mutation by Allen Kent

A few minutes before 3:00 a.m., the man residents of Ålesund, Norway, referred to as den Serbisk, the Serbian, slipped quietly from bed. He had showered and shaved the evening before and dressed quietly in the half-light of the Norwegian summer night that filtered through the open windows of the Hotel Brosundet. Below his window, the silent harbor mirrored the Ålesund fishing fleet like a tarnished silver mirror. In an hour, men would begin outfitting the boats. Gulls would wheel and squawk over the departing fleet. He needed to be gone by then, headed to the airport. But on the way, there was cleanup work to be done.    Before leaving the room, he paused to admire the figure of the young woman who remained sound asleep on her side, the sheet covering her to the waist. He allowed his eyes to linger for another moment on the breasts that were so beautifully accented by the white patches of her bikini line. She had been among the best of his Ålesund conquests. He had her number and would call her again when he returned to the city.
    The Serb took the elevator to the main floor, assured the night clerk that the room should be left on his card and that the lady would check out before eleven, then retrieved his rental from the small harborside lot. Five minutes later, he descended into the tunnel that crossed beneath the fjord to Ellingsøya Island. Upon exiting, he turned right past the sleeping village of Hoffland and drove east along the coastal road until a gravel lane turned away from the water’s edge up into the pines. The lane skirted the side of a steep, rocky hill, then looped back toward its crest. Near the top, he braked in front of an ornate wrought-iron gate.
    Leaning from the window, the Serb entered a six-digit code into an electronic pad that stood on a black post beside the gate. The barrier swung silently inward. He eased the vehicle forward through the wall of heavy gray stone. The inner drive was paved and curved left through trees that circled a small lake to the front of a dark two-story country manor of the same smoky-gray rock.
    As he stepped from the car in front of steps that led to an arched portico, the wide beam of a flashlight circled him from the far edge of the house. A hoarse voice demanded in Norwegian, “Who is there?”
    “It is just me, Geir,” the Serb said in English to the caretaker. “I need to pick up a few things before flying back to Frankfurt. I will be about an hour and will close the gate when I leave. My flight is at eight.”
    The ancient caretaker grunted an acknowledgement and turned back toward a cottage that was no more than a dark impression among the trees beyond the drive. The Serb unlocked and entered the house, closing and latching the door behind him. Down the central hallway, a door opened beneath a staircase onto steep steps that descended into a musty half -basement. By the light of a single dim bulb, he made his way through a scattering of old outdoor furniture and lawn statuary to a row of rough wooden shelves. Pulling a stool from beside the stairway, he climbed carefully onto it, pushing upward on what appeared to be a section of ceiling beam. The shelves in front of him slid forward and to the side, revealing an aged steel door with a wheel-combination lock and lever handle. He lowered himself heavily from the stool and knelt before the door, twirling four numbers into the lock. As he forced the handle downward, the man rose to his feet and pushed against the massive door.
    The metal plate swung inward into a brightly lit stainless-steel prepping station with two showerheads to his left suspended over a circular drain. To his right, an open closet held three white hazmat suits and, on a shelf above, contamination masks and goggles. The Serb stripped to his underwear and donned the largest of the suits. He carefully taped his wrists and ankles, then pulled on mask and goggles. When certain he was properly protected, he pushed through a second metal door into a long, narrow observation room. A tightly sealed full-wall window separated him from another stainless-paneled cell beyond.
    This third room was a twelve-foot box, furnished with a plain metal table, wall-mounted bench, and steel toilet and sink. On the table, assorted fruit browned in a wooden bowl. A partially eaten loaf of bread and block of white cheese sat on heavy paper plates. The emaciated body of a woman faced him on a thin mattress that covered a low cot attached to the back wall, her corpse seeping thin red liquid from weeping blisters that covered most of her exposed skin. Dried blood covered her chocolate face, staining it even darker where fluid oozed from her eyes and nose. She wore only a pair of tight red shorts. What had been a white tank top lay beside her on the floor. Little of the white remained, a few unspoiled islands in a sea of reddish brown. The floor beside the cot was splattered with dark, bloody vomit.​
Excerpt from The Marburg Mutation by Allen KentIncluded in Do No Harm

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