Saturday, March 16, 2024

But the book don’t say nothing about what I’m really worried about, which is: how to become a ma—and at the same time, how to be totally different from my ma.

 For a while I leaf through this book, which Lenny’s bought me. I bet he’s real excited. He so looks forward to becoming a father, the second time around. I can just see him in my head, like, holding the baby’s hand, guiding him already in his first steps. Then, letting go, he’s gonna take a step or two back, and hold his breath, waiting there for the little one to walk into his open arms. 

Lenny’s gonna buy him a brand new tricycle, and teach him how to set his little feet on top of them pedals, and push, push harder, even harder—yeah! Just so! And again: Go on, push, until—oh boy! With great joy, he’s gonna clap his hands, because here—for the first time—you could detect a move, a slight move ahead. 

And then, a few years down the road, he’s gonna surprise our child with a large, shining bicycle, and adjust the training wheels as time goes by, until they wasn’t needed no more; at which point, Lenny would remove them, and hold them in his hands, like, to weigh them for a moment, and try to wipe the rust, and wish that time would like, slow down, just a little, because it’s hard, so hard for the old heart to let go. 

Yes, Lenny needs a son: someone to need him, trust him, and make him trust himself again.  


I turn the page over, only to find some of them words much too long—but I read them anyway and like, I enunciate them, as slowly and as clearly as I can, ‘cause it’s gonna make him proud of me, and make me worthy of him. 

The book says that just four weeks after conception, basic facial features will begin to appear, including passageways, I repeat, passageways that will make up the inner ear, and arches that will contribute, contribute, I say aloud, to the jaw. And it says that the baby may now be a quarter of an inch long, which sounds like they’re talking about some lizard, or maybe a fish. 

But the book don’t say nothing about what I’m really worried about, which is: how to become a ma—and at the same time, how to be totally different from my ma.  

Me, I often wonder about that, ‘cause it’s kinda hard to know the right thing to do, even with the best of intentions, when all you have before you is nothing, nothing but a life cursed by violence, and by misery, and by a long list of mistakes. 


My Own Voice

Paperback  Hardcover 

Audiobook


Falling in love with Lenny should have been the end to all of Anita's troubles. 

For her, it's only the beginning, when family secrets start unravelling. His ex-wife, Natasha, is succumbing to a mysterious disease. How can Anita compete with her shadow? How can she find a voice of her own?

And when his estranged son, Ben, comes back and lives in the same small apartment, can she keep the balance between the two men, whose desire for her is marred by guilt and blame?

"This story, like most great dramas, isn't always easy read, but you'll find yourself unable to leave it alone and these characters will stay with you long after you've finished it."

- Aurora Dawn, VINE VOICE


Thursday, March 14, 2024

And over that pulsing, over the gusts of wind, there was that sound again, only louder this time.

 What was that, behind the rustle—farther out—somewhere out there in the darkness? There it was again, a sound so subtle he had to guess at it. Was it a sigh? A muffled cry?

Compelled to find out what it was, he hurried down past the white sands, toward the waterline. The waves clashed ashore, their crests laced with foam. And over that pulsing, over the gusts of wind, there was that sound again, only louder this time. It sent a shiver down his spine.

His shoes were soaked. Michael tossed them away, thinking he would retrieve them in a few minutes. 

Moving forward over the pebbles and into the shallow water, he had to grip the side of the rock, grip it tightly. Waves were coming at him, pushing and pulling away. And then, despite the salty sting in his eyes, he saw something that made him take a step back. 


A jagged rock formation emerged from the surface just ahead of him. At its top was one smooth curve. A hip. 

Dragged in by a wave, he found himself within an arm’s reach from her. She lay there flat on her back, legs slightly separated. The head was bobbing in the water, half submerged. Greenish seaweed streamed down the dress, swerved into her cleavage, and washed down into her braid. At the tip of it, a brilliant drop of blood was beginning to form.

At first, Michael assumed that she had slipped, by some accident, and got dashed into the rocks. He reached forward, feeling for her carotid, but instead of a pulse, what he found was an open flesh. Something oozed out of it, which felt sticky on his fingers. 

Startled, he pushed himself back. That was when he spotted the cut, the deep cut at the base of her throat. 

She was beyond saving.



Virtually Lace

Paperback Hardcover

Audiobook


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?


"I felt as though I was in Michael's work environment whenever he was using Virtual Reality. Whether he was displaying Laguna Beach or the Northrop Grumman B -21 Raiders flying overhead, I not only was there but I could feel my heart pounding and my pulse racing... "

~Serenity, HALL OF FAME,  TOP 10 REVIEWER





Monday, March 4, 2024

Eyes Fallen Shut



Eyes Fallen Shut

By Uvi Poznansky


If my eyes fall shut, there’s no darkness around me

Walls tumble away… I’m not locked in a box

If my ears turn deaf, there’s no suffering. I’m free

Of this incessant ticking of silenced blank clocks


Cursed to wait, wait, wait still longer to dart

When someone out there releases a grip

Now I sense a slight spin… A hinge, stirring… A start 

As my lid cranks, cracks, creaks open, out I slip


Ready or not, here I come… What a loud Pop!

Do I strike fear? Make your heart freeze?

Held up ever-so-briefly, how soon shall I drop

Back into oblivion, back into a squeeze?


Till I’m found again, forgotten, confined

I’ll be dreaming of you, your eyes fallen shut

Friday, February 23, 2024

Paper construction for a silent soul


 My 'Silent Soul' paper construction, still work-in-progress, painted. I applied bronze lines to define the borders of each paper facet, and lightly brushed watercolor to shade it. Stay tuned. More to come!

Thursday, February 15, 2024

Sibling Rivalry

 Great review focusing on the family relationships in my novelette, A Favorite Son:

Reviewed in the United States on February 10, 2024

A heart-wrenching story that will grip and hold you from the very first page. Do parents have a favorite child? What if you are the one constantly trying to prove yourself? A story of familial relationships, hardships, questionable behavior, self-doubt, and finding oneself! Highly recommended.

Monday, February 12, 2024

If you ask me, there’s no sign of life in her


Until I figure out what is happening, I must be careful. I must pretend to be out of it, so no one suspects that from this angle—pitifully slumped in this wheelchair—I can spy on them. They must misjudge my mind, so I can see into their hearts and guts.

Spurred by confusion, no one knows where they’re going, and neither do I—but I’m happy to be out of bed and away from my room, happy to be moving, which is why it irks me to be stopped. 

I allow myself to take a quick glimpse around me, but can’t turn my head back to see the cop. Instead, I rely on what I know best: perking up my ears. From the far end of the corridor behind me, the nurse cries for him to stop pushing me forward and wait a minute, wait for her. With a zigzag grind along the linoleum floor, he slows my wheelchair down to a standstill.

“I forgot one thing,” the nurse says, breathlessly, upon reaching us. “Here, let me put these mitts on her hands.”

I allow my eyelids to droop, not before noting that the cop seems to be on edge. His shift has ended hours ago, and no one has arrived to replace him, and now, he has this problem on his hands, by which I mean, me. With no donuts at hand, he begins to sound somewhat acidic. 

“Mitts?” he grumbles. “What, you think this patient is going to play baseball, or have a fist fight with someone, in her condition?”

“It’s a fight alright,” she says. “With herself.”

He says nothing, which is clearly an expression of doubt. Maybe he’s even raising an eyebrow.

So the nurse goes on to add, “Trust me, we need to protect this patient from doing harm to her own body.”

“You serious?” he says. “If you ask me, there’s no sign of life in her.”



Coma Confidential

(Volume I of Ash Suspense Thrillers with a Dash of Romance)

Paperback  Hardcover

Ash Suspense Thrillers Trilogy Audiobook


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? 


Friday, February 9, 2024