Marta Moran Bishop is the Award-winning author of Dinky: The Nurse Mare's Foal, The Divide Series, Children's and adult poetry. New Release Whispers on the Wind a time-travel, romance, with the backdrop of the war between Atlantis and Lemuria. I am thrilled to find her review of my suspense thriller, Coma Confidential:
Ms. Poznznsky’s, COMA Confidential is brilliantly written. To write from the perspective of 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 read COMA.
Ed lies still on the sidewalk, his eyelids open but unflinching. The only thing about him that moves are the lapels of his corduroy coat, flapping slightly this way and that across his neck as the wind floats chilly feelers over his body.
Timmy gasps—but his eyes are not tearful, not yet. In that second, when time slows, the driver side door is swaying with an annoying noise. With each squeak, the child takes a gulp of air as if about to ask, “Dad, will you get up? Will you grab the door handle?”
No blood is visible, at first. So, I too allow myself to wonder: Will Ed climb back into his seat, dust off his shoulders, and wave goodbye to his son, before driving away?
I expect him to do so. Almost.
Until another round of gunshots blasts the air.
Without even thinking, I push Timmy down to the asphalt, which is quite easy because he’s such a skinny child and utterly in shock. Then I land hard on my elbows beside him and push a hand against his chest until he crawls backwards, until he butts against his father’s car. It casts a shadow over him. At the moment, there is no better place to hide.
Up on the pavement, a short distance from us, blood starts puddling around Ed’s shoulder. I try to block Timmy from seeing it.
He shakes his head, still in disbelief.
Please, God, no. This can’t be true.
Everything around us is in a state of utter confusion. The sidewalk is strewn with abandoned backpacks, as some pupils are running for their lives. Others cower behind a bush or a car. One uses his flimsy umbrella as a shield.
A teacher cries out to him, “Duck!”
And another teacher, by the gate of the school, yells, “Run! Get inside! Get down, crawl under your desks! And for Heaven’s sake, stay away from the windows!”
A couple of parents attempt getting out of their cars to pull their children to safety, but at the sound of shooting they drop to their knees with empty arms.
Next to me, Timmy turns onto his stomach, mashes his nose against the tire, and wedges himself, somehow, between the curb and the Ford. Then he crawls under it toward the rear bumper, making room for me, too.
I try to cock my head up from the damp surface. Looking at the scene from under the belly of a car is a whole different experience. Someone stands at the other side of the car, and all I can see is his sneakers, socks, and the hem of his coat, flaring at its bottom. Also, the muzzle of his gun. For a heartbeat, before dark clouds close in, it glints in the sunlight.
I reach over and clamp a hand over Timmy’s mouth to prevent him from screamihng, from drawing the killer’s attention. A hail of bullets rains down, sparking off the front bumper.
Timmy tenses up. His breath trembles as it escapes my touch. I must protect him. I must bring him back safely to his mother.
The edge of the curb gouges into my back. I adjust, I turn over. Now it presses against my belly.
The last thing Ash expects when she lands in Clearwater, Florida is to be stalked by a troubled teenager. If that's not bad enough, she is caught in a shooting spree next to the nearby elementary school. The cops think it’s an attempt at mass killing, but Ash wonders if the only victim was specifically
Gerald Elias has been leading a double life. His award-winning Daniel Jacobus mystery series is set in the dark corners of the classical music world, of which Gerald Elias is intimately familiar as a former violinist with the Boston Symphony, associate concertmaster of the Utah Symphony and as a conductor, composer, and teacher. I am thrilled to find his review of Coma Confidential:
Uvi Poznansky has chosen a unique perspective for Ash, her protagonist in this page-turning thriller, that of a woman in a coma, unable to communicate, and she pulls off this daredevil feat with convincing elan.
We find Ash in a hospital bed, clinging to life by a thread and innumerable medical devices. Little by little she becomes fully cognizant of her surroundings and the reason for her being there, a brutal assault in her own apartment. She shares her thought processes with us, the readers, and we quickly become appreciative of her pluck and her ingenuity, ultimately, and against all odds, turning the tables on evil mastermind that brought her to dire straits.
For thriller lovers seeking something different and engaging, wake up to Coma!