Uvi Poznansky's Blog, page 7
December 31, 2024
Virtually like a wave it came
Here was the scene he had come to know so well, the scene of the murder. Virtually like a wave it came, with digitized droplets washing down over him, settling into place amidst the blue walls of the garage, with the jagged rock formation in the center of it all, framed by papery waves.
The mist cleared, only to reveal the familiar characters waiting there, each in its own position, in suspended animation.
“Delete Gull,” he commanded. “Delete Fish.”
Gull took a sharp turn and soared over the reddened clouds. Its shadow fluttered a moment longer on the garage floor, where the ripples around the eye of Fish closed in, erasing it.
“Delete First Diver. Delete Second Diver.”
The two wire figures clambering up to reach the restaurant gate exchanged blank looks. In a blink, their snorkeled faces crumbled away, and so did their limbs. The traces of their fins remained there for a little while, glistening in the moonlit sand.
“Delete Boy. Delete Brother.”
Boy flashed a smile. With a sharp metallic clink, Brother kicked him and hopped back, narrowly escaping a kick in return. Then both of them melted away.
“Delete Freckles.”
The dimpled smile separated from her face and flew away along with a swarm of freckles, until vanishing into the simulated wind. Only her wire basket remained behind.
“Delete Mr. Strong.”
Mr. Strong pleated his papery forehead, and at the end of a full second of contemplation, stepped off the boat and sank by her side, never to climb back on deck again.
The sails wiggled for a while, then settled into a steady blur, as the sailboat started gliding away across the blue surface.
“Delete Fool.”
His papery beard aflutter, Fool flew off the bluff. His fall, down to the rocks below, had no impact. He simply evaporated into thin air.
Michael reached for his wooden stake, reveling in its ripped fibers. Their touch was familiar. It might have been delivered to him by his virtual reality glove, or else by the muscle memory of his hand, from the time he had destroyed Bull by destroying his art. Either way, it was his stake now, virtually so, just as if it were handed down from the old man to him.
Finally, without waiting for an explicit command, Mysterious collapsed onto the dark rock. The stump of its neck became one with the jagged outline.
At long last, the virtual landscape looked serene—no wire figures to disrupt its beauty. No one left, not a soul but Lace.
And that, in a perfect world, that was the way it should have been.
Balancing herself on the tips of her toes, all alone on the hillside, the dancer flew over the trail, with the veil of evening shadow lingering behind her. Through her fingers, a glitter of some kind spread in the wind, swirling down the rib of the rocks and over the sea.
Michael was sleepy, but could not let his eyes fall shut. If he would do it—even for a heartbeat—the nightmare might start all over again. Ribbons of silvery water would start wrinkling slowly over her temple and down into the crown of algae. A drip would start trickling through the braid, right down to the blood at its tip.
He bowed his head, praying that now, with the mystery solved at last, the fate of the dancer would stop haunting him and at the same time, stop reminding Ash of the incident. The rape. That, he thought, was the one topic that from now on, should never again come up between them. It should be forgotten. Buried.
For his sweetheart, would the past continue to be present? Would she ever be free of it?
It was time to turn off the simulation, but Michael waited a moment longer. He wondered, how would the scene look from a boat sailing off toward the fleeing horizon, one day when he and Ash are headed for a new voyage, a new adventure?
The white tail of Pacific Coast Highway would shrink into the distance. So would the cliffs, kneeling to kiss the silvery surf. And deep underwater, from the disappearing shore, would it still come—rippling faster and faster toward them—that whispering silence of Lace?
Haunted by discovering the body of a beautiful dancer, Michael re-constructs her murder in a virtual reality. Can he bring the mystery to life? Can he solve it in time, before the killer turns on the woman he loves, Ash?
December 20, 2024
I tell myself that my life is not in danger
Lying there on the stretcher under Vlad’s eye, I tell myself that my life is not in danger. I repeat, it’s not, at least not immediately.
Unfortunately, that gives me no relief, because death can be welcome when the alternative is worse. Losing limbs is not my idea of pleasure, even if it’s only my fingers, even if they’re of little use to me lately, as I can barely control them.
And it’s not just my mind saying that. It’s my body, too. It wants to remain intact. Every muscle in me screams fear.
The ambulance rattles into motion. Where is Vlad taking me? The asphalt shrieks under the tires, as if to impart a warning. We speed away, destination unknown.
Thoughts are racing madly in my head. I’m grateful to my boyfriend, because he put himself in harm’s way, trying to fight off my abductor. But then, he seemed reluctant to do what was asked of him—surrender that hacking program—so I may be released. Clearly, he wasn’t telling the truth about losing that thing. I don’t believe him on that count, and more critically, neither does Vlad.
Why, why won’t Michael give it up?
One moment, I hate him for not doing everything in his power to protect me. That program is just an old thing he wrote back in high school, using a computer language that is obsolete. It is of no value to him, quite the contrary. He could have been arrested for writing it.
The next moment, I realize that with that program at hand, Vlad would have the power to wreak havoc on the electrical grid of the entire country, which will greatly impact the US economy and its political independence. What is happening now in my city, in Irvine, is accomplished using inferior software, concocted by Russian hackers. Even so, the way it plays out is merely a rehearsal.
But even as I understand all this, even as I think of the greater good, still, the question remains: why should I be the one to be sacrificed for it?
Haven’t I gone through enough already?
On the bright side, I am thankful that at the moment, I am covered with a warm blanket. Also, the ambulance is fitted with a working air conditioning system, so as to maintain a comfortable temperature for any patients being treated. And comfort is something I need. I need it desperately, because earlier, sitting there in the parking lot, those gusts of wind have put the shiver in me.
Perhaps the shiver is in my heart.
Deprived of morphine, I start to feel pain. It is no longer something waiting for me somewhere in the background. It is here. And it’s rising.
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?
December 18, 2024
Review: Poignant moving story
LISTENERStephanie

Poignant moving story Overall 5 out of 5 starsPerformance 4 out of 5 starsStory 5 out of 5 stars
Reviewed: 12-16-24
Uvi’s story about a couple’s ending moved me to tears, and not just at the ending. Even with the small touch of telltale AI narration, you wouldn’t be human if you didn’t’t shed some tears.
The prose was gorgeous, like all of Uvi’s writing.
If you want a beautifully sad, emotional listen, I highly recommend this book!
December 14, 2024
Review: Very eclectic writings!

Very eclectic writings! Overall 5 out of 5 starsPerformance 5 out of 5 starsStory 5 out of 5 stars
Reviewed: 12-13-24
Poems and prose help you understand the author’s point of view. I was amazed at how some very short poems are all that is needed to get your point across. The AI voice was very realistic and had great modulation! This audiobook was a gift of the author. Thank you for sharing!
December 10, 2024
STUNNINGLY TOLD STORY THAT WILL GRIP YOU
LISTENERM. M. Bishop
STUNNINGLY TOLD STORY THAT WILL GRIP YOU

I first read Ms. Poznznsky’s, COMA Confidential as an ebook, is brilliantly written.
I was gifted the audio edition in exchange for an honest review. The Narration was smooth, the voice held all the emotions that you would expect from a patient in a coma, who can think, hear, but not see, touch, or talk, is a daunting task. Yet to bring her to life, with all that one might expect someone who is in a coma to experience, is beyond extraordinary. This book is masterfully told, with an eye for not only detail, but filled with trauma, suspense, and terror.
There is a beauty in the way Ms. Poznznsky can make the words flow across the page. They draw you deeper and deeper into the story until you feel as if you, too, were lying in that bed, as the memories flow back into you. And when Ash finally feels herself move, only to understand that the true terror is yet to come for her, fills one with the need to turn the pages faster.
The sheer suspense and horror that Coma draws you into is stunning, and could only be written by someone who has the ability to find empathy and courage to tell it. Although, to date, I have loved every book that I’ve read by Ms. Poznznsky; I picked this up with apprehension. How can anyone tell a story from the perspective of a coma victim? Yet, this book is powerful. The story is astounding, and great. I am so glad I read it and look forward to the next book. You will not be disappointed if you listen to this audio book.
I highly recommend the audio edition.
December 6, 2024
Power and greed always leads to evil
Power and greed always leads to evil

Overall 5 out of 5 starsPerformance 4 out of 5 starsStory 5 out of 5 stars
Reviewed: 11-28-24
Twists and turns held my attention throughout. I love the concept of someone being in a coma and their journey of coming back.
December 4, 2024
Overdue (Audible review): Very exciting story!

Performance 5 out of 5 stars
Story 5 out of 5 stars
Reviewed: 12-02-24
Another great story written by Uvi Poznansky! There was romance, humor and lots of thrills! Looking forward to the next in the series!
November 27, 2024
You and I have a little case of stolen identity to sort out
He tries to close the door, but my foot is in it.
Enraged, I push him briskly aside and climb up the floating stairs of the grand staircase two at a time, heading towards the auditorium, where I think I see her. Her shadow seems to be slithering inside, ever so stealthily.
Gradually, my eyes adjust to the dark space sloping towards the stage. At first glance, it seems vacant, but my pounding heart tells me otherwise.
The auditorium—plush seating with red velvet cushions, punctuated with scrolled hardwood armrests—brings back fond memories. I conjure up a vision of myself down there, in the front row, wedged between my Mommy and Daddy, barely able to contain my eager anticipation for the curtains to rise.
I wish Browny were here to sniff Linda out—but at this point, I have only myself to rely on. A shiver goes down my spine. I tread, as softly as I can, along the wood railing of the upper tier, and suddenly I spot her in the lower one. Cowering in the corner of the aisle, she sneaks down the wooden stairs that lead to the bottom left exit.
I climb over the railing and onto a makeshift scaffolding, slide down a bit, and from there, hurl myself—thinking, while in flight, that I should have thought twice of doing that—and land with a splat in the aisle. Carpeting would have been nice, but there you have it. Hardwood.
I manage to roll to my knees, then dart down the stairs, where I grab her arm with a force I didn’t know I possessed. With a startle, she yanks herself out of my hold and makes a sprint, first for the exit, where I block her, then for the stage.
Staggering up there, I push her into a stumble at the edge of the stage, where the two of us have a bit of a cat fight. We roll on the dusty wood floor. She’s on top, then I am. She scratches my face. I shove her away, then find myself under her again. She punches me in the gut. I kick at her belly. She pulls my hair. I slap her hollow cheek.
I marvel at how strong she is, despite looking fragile. She claws at me with her nails as I gain the upper hand, but I steel myself for the pain. I pin her down, her bald head hanging over the edge.
Meanwhile, the actor rushes in. He calls out to her, “Shall I call 911?”
“Please do,” I growl.
But she squeals, “No!”
“You sure, Linda?” he asks her.
“I am.” She tries to catch her breath. “Do not call the police.”
He repeats, “You sure?”
“Sure I’m sure. This is all just for show.”
“It is?”
“Go away,” she croaks. “Leave us alone.”
She coughs and at once, the wind goes out of her lungs. Her resistance gone, she lies flat at my feet, no longer thrashing about.
A wave of invincibility washes over me.
Then, gloom.
My triumph, I now realize, comes with a heavy price. I’ve subdued her, but what makes her ill can trounce me too, in the end. This woman coughed in my face before. Two weeks ago, I thought she feigned being sick. This time, her symptoms seem to be real. And serious. I make a mental note to myself to wash my hands when I’m done with her.
Linda presses a hand against her temple and lets out a sigh, as if to release the ache that needles her. Her skin is slightly feverish to the touch, and her voice—raspy. Even she can’t be that good of an actress.
In the near future, I’ll have to stay away from everyone I love. I must protect them from me, from the possibility of the dreaded Coronavirus reaching them through our closeness. I pray that they won’t need my help, because I can’t be there for them. My parents. My friends. Michael. Having to keep my distance, that’s the best case scenario. And I don’t even want to think about the worst case.
For now, let me focus on the moment. I have to make her confess. She must give the game away. “Get up,” I tell her, my voice resonating with intensity. “You and I have a little case of stolen identity to sort out.”
Her bullet grazed his head, but the leader of a Russian crime organization is still breathing. One way for Vlad to avoid paying the price for his crimes is to play dead; another is to play dying. For Ash, this is not a game. She must learn his secrets. Only one problem: because of the raging pandemic, she must put her plan on hold.
Vlad slips away from the hospital in a body bag, then develops a brazen fraud scheme that will bilk health insurance companies out of millions of dollars. If not caught in time, he will drive victims to suicide, rob Ash of her identity, and slit her throat.
Will Ash manage to stay one step ahead of him and at the same time, protect her loved ones from contagion?
November 19, 2024
And I kissed her...
Mrs. Horowitz marched off to the kitchen, leaving us alone at long last.
“Play for me, Natasha,” I said.
She turned her eyes to me, and the green light in them flickered into a smile.
“What kind of music d’you like?” she asked.
To which I said, “I’d like to know what you like.”
“My favorite is The Symphony No. 5 in C minor by Ludwig van Beethoven,” she said, “but this is not the right moment for it. I know! I’ll play a special song for you. Papa used to sing it to me, when I was little.”
The first notes came softly, tugging at my heart. They brought back long-forgotten Yiddish words, in the voice of my mother. “Bei mir bist du shein,” she sang to me. “Bei mir host du chein. Bei mir bist du alles oif di velt.”
Natasha closed her eyes, surrendering herself to the music. She started swaying slightly as she played and from time to time, tipped her head backwards, letting it wash over her face, her lips. Fascinated I found myself drawing nearer. By the rosy blush that spread up her cheeks I knew that she could sense my closeness.
In her soft, velvety voice, she started singing, “To me you are beautiful, to me you have grace, to me you are everything in the world.”
From the direction of the kitchen, her Ma chimed in, singing, “I've tried to explain, bei mir bist du schoen.”
And in a sudden elation I hummed under my breath, “So kiss me, and say that you will understand.”
With the last notes still hovering in midair, she swung her knees around the piano bench and lifted her face to me. I raised her to her feet and gathered her to my heart. Then, as she wrapped her arms around my shoulders, I felt the heat awakening from within, rising recklessly in both of us.
Drawing me to her, Natasha leaned backwards over the piano. To the last vibrations dying in its belly I bent over her, over the reflection of the skyline of New York, which rippled in reverse across the polished, black surface around us, and I kissed her.
From USA Today Bestselling Author, Uvi Poznansky, comes a passionate wartime love story:
Lenny goes as far back as the moment he met Natasha during WWII, when he was a wounded warrior and she—a star, brilliant yet illusive. Natasha was a riddle to him then, and to this day, with all the changes she has gone through, she still is.
November 10, 2024
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