Thursday, September 29, 2016

The Saga Continues!

Born in Oakland, CA, Kathy Parsons has been an independent piano teacher since early 1981. Kathy lived in the San Francisco Bay Area until mid-2007 when she relocated to Florence, OR (on the central Oregon Coast). She continues to teach locally and via the internet in addition to reviewing many recordings and interviewing artists for her website,, and editing new sheet music. I am so pleased to find her review of my novel, Dancing with Air:

"Dancing With Air" is the fourth installment of the "Still Life With Memories" series by Uvi Poznansky. The series chronicles the lives of Lenny, Natasha, and their son over a period of several decades. What is different about this series is that you can read each volume in any order you choose. Each book is self-contained and you don't have to have read any of the previous volumes to understand what is going on. Actually, Volume 1 and 2 ("Apart From Love") is the most recent period of the characters' lives (so far) and then the subsequent volumes have given more of a backstory. This volume is set mostly in WWII with Lenny in the Marines and Natasha getting her performing career as a pianist going (along with her "stage mom" mother). It is something of a historical novel and expresses the hopes, fears, joys, and doubts of new love in a time of war. The characters are very believable and human, and the story itself is both heartfelt and universal. I understand that Volume 5 is in the works, so that should add even more dimension to these well-thought-out characters. This is a very well-written series and I recommend it.
The author provided me with an eBook of "Dancing With Air" in exchange for an honest review, which this is.

Wednesday, September 28, 2016

She can't put it down

A short and sweet review. Love it:

Verified Purchase(What's this?)
This review is from: Twisted (Paperback)
This was purchased for my Mom for her birthday. She really likes this book. She can't put it down.

Where do you get all that energy and passion?

Jan Romes, a wonderful author of romance and women's fiction, invited me to for an interview, which she published on her blog. Here's our conversation:

What inspired you to write Dancing with Air?

For a long time I had this idea of creating a series around the events in the life of a unique family, over the course of several generations. In 1980 Natasha suffers from early onset Alzheimer’s. Set the clock back ten years, and her husband, Lenny, is only beginning to suspect that something is wrong. And when he reflects on their early days, back in WWII, we find Natasha as a young woman at her peak. She is beautiful, brilliant, and most of all ready to meet the challenges that arise during the war years.

The characters had to have not only a compelling voice, but they had to see things in an entirely different light, which would create contrasts and conflicts, as each one of them comes from a different background and has different passions, needs, and aspirations. Dancing with Air is volume IV in this series, but like the previous volumes, it is also a standalone novel, which you can read independently of the others. 

Please share an excerpt from the book.

The earth quaked. Casting a look over my shoulder I saw a ripple going through it. Then a big depression was being formed out there, with cracks yawning wide. Before long it became a cavernous crater, maybe a hundred feet deep, threatening to swallow us alive. Its mouth spit up dirt and rocks, only to devour them with an incredible crackling sound as they came tumbling down. There was something eerie about this landscape. It was ravenous. Riding at utmost speed, we kept just out of its lip.

Our escape route took us along the high ground, for a good reason: the explosion broke a reservoir, which sent a volcano-like sea of mud down the valley, engulfing everything that stood in its way. 

All of a sudden, the Harley started to spurt mud. Natasha had no choice but to bring it to a halt and then, then something else caught her attention. Pointing at the edge of the newly-formed swamp, she said, “Look!”
Down there, plodding through the shallow end of the sludge was a kid, perhaps three years old, perhaps a bit older. Mud was oozing down his face, his hair. 

My legs were banged up but somehow I blocked the pain. Hobbling down I reached him and lifted his frail little body out of the muck. At first, he resisted. Flailing wildly and kicking his feet in the air, he twisted away from my hands. 
So I set the boy down and was surprised to feel his little hand wrapping around my finger.

“Don’t go,” he said.
And I said, “I won’t. Promise.”

Where do you get all that energy and passion?

Lol... The simple answer is, I don’t know. I truly enjoy applying everything in me for every task I do, be it writing, creating art, designing my own covers, creating teams around projects such as A Touch of Passion or my newest boxed set, Love in Times of War. I find that when I give it my all, others who take part in my projects are inspired to do the same--and that holds true for my audiobook narrators, for authors who take part in my Facebook events, and for authors in my boxed set. Energy is contagious. 

Every day, I am doing the best I can to keep up with the changing landscape of book publishing, learning new tools, reading about different ways to reach out to readers. Why? because of my characters. Having sprung from my mind onto the page, they might die there, pressed between the front and back covers–unless I make it possible for them to spring from the page into your mind.

When your internal batteries run low, where do you like to go to recharge?

The beauty of having my hand (and my heart) in so many activities is that when I tire of one, I pick up another. So for example, say I’ve been writing all day, and can’t think straight or be attentive to what my characters say anymore, I switch gear and design graphics for my team of authors, tailored to each one of them and to the approaching holiday.

I also enjoy swimming, and go to the outdoor pool at least once a week, doing my laps one hour at a time. In sunny days, I love seeing my shadow floating across the bottom of the pool, and wing-shaped ripples forming around my arms.  

Monday, September 26, 2016

You will love Dancing With Air. I know I did

Colleen Chesebro is an author, reviewer, and blogger. I am thrilled that she read my romance novel, Dancing with Air, and reviewed it on her illustrious blog, Silver Threading, as well as on Amazon. This is what she said:

on September 26, 2016
*The author provided me with a copy of the book in exchange for an honest review which follows*

This was my first introduction to the writings of Uvi Poznansky and I must say I was delighted. Dancing With Air is a poignant tale of love which begins during World War II between Lenny and Natasha. Most of the story covers their life in England, East Anglia, which held significance to me as I had been stationed there myself in the early 1980’s. The descriptions were superb and in my mind’s eye, I saw the white cliffs of Dover through the words on the page.

What I liked most about the book is the retelling of their memories, mostly by Lenny. The entire story is shadowed by a tragic illness that has Natasha in its grips. The reader feels Lenny’s pain at the possibility of losing his beloved wife. Seldom have I read such a depth of emotion portrayed by both characters. I found it easy to become wrapped up in the events that happened in the past and the present. I shed many tears, some in joy, and some in sorrow.

The fact that this book was the fourth in the series did not matter, other than the fact that I now want to read the complete series. I must add another feature of the story I really enjoyed. Uvi Poznansky threaded the lyrics of songs throughout the novel, which given the time frame, was a huge part of life during World War II. We’re so used to our world of immediate social media connections that we forget how people really bonded back then. For me, the songs added the “ring of truth,” to their romantic memories. Those songs connected both characters and allowed the reader a peek into their romance and the love that blossomed from it.

I read this novel quickly because it was the kind of story that drew me into the lives of the characters. Lenny’s story of his time in the Marines is filled with mystery and intrigue. Natasha leads the life of a concert pianist on tour in Europe. Their joining as partners in life is what will touch you the most. If you love romance novels with a touch of history and realism, you will love Dancing With Air. I know I did.

My Rating:
Character Believability: 5
Flow and Pace: 5
Reader Engagement: 5
Reader Enrichment: 5
Reader Enjoyment: 5
Overall Rate: 5 out of 5 stars

Sunday, September 25, 2016

Tomorrow on your way you'll go

Tonight be still, because who knows
The spirits of the dead are close
The road is dark, and winds do blow
Tomorrow on your way you'll go

You'll fight upon a distant field
And never read what I've sealed
In my letters, in my heart
This war is tearing us apart

Tonight be still, be here to listen
Flames in my fireplace do glisten
I'll tell you tales of love, desire
And later dream of peace, ceasefire

Love Romance? Get this amazing collection
Love in Times of War
No longer available

Saturday, September 24, 2016

Treat yourself to a one-of-a-kind pleasure

When the night is dark, you know not where to turn
When the only light comes from a Jack-o-Lantern
When dry leaves rustle, when you turn pale,
And wish to be swept into a different tale,

When the ghosts in your mind rise to play a trick
And your teeth chatter, and your bones click
Treat yourself to a one-of-a-kind pleasure
A Touch of Passion you will forever treasure.

Love Romance? Get this amazing collection
A Touch of Passion
No longer available

"The authors... all have gifts to offer and in tandem they present a very fine collection of contemporary writing about Romance, suspense, fiction and a touch of history, Fine curl p by the fire reading" 
-Grady Harp, Hall of Fame Reviewer

Every Day I Tear A Leaf

Poem by my father, included in Home

Every day I tear a leaf     
From my calendar, blanched by the sun
Here's spring... It is so brief
Leaves now falling, one by one...

Once more it's spring, the fragrance's sweet
And blossom spreads again, again
With graying hair, there in the street
I sit: a lonely, crestfallen man

Do you remember: a student’s room
With a single narrow iron bed
That eve, of golden summer bloom
We fried potatoes, words unsaid

The plates we set down on the floor
And filled our glass with cheap, warm wine
Between our kisses, love we swore...
For that lost moment, how I pine!

A star came on, peeking in
Out of the depth of a strange, dark night
The entire world was here within
A serenade of love, delight

★ Inspired by poetry? Treat yourself a gift ★

"This radiant book is an exploration of the bond between a daughter and father and the book overflows with some of the most eloquent poetic moments in print. HOME is an invitation, a very personal one, and should not be passed over."
-Grady Harp, Hall of Fame Reviewer

Friday, September 16, 2016

Cover reveal for Love in Times of War

Love in Times of War is a new boxed set, containing full-length Romance novels as well as novellas by wonderfully talented, bestselling authors. Joining me are Tamara Ferguson, Jacquie Biggar, D.G. Torrens, Angelica Kate, Traci Hall, Jennifer St. Giles, Regina Puckett, Suzanne Jenkins, S.R. Mallery, PJ Fiala, and Susan Jean Ricci. 

For the word capital L in the word Love I found a lovely font called Precious, because I felt that it expresses the meaning of this word by making the capital letter so flowery and romantic. For the image I selected a dramatic, explosive background, symbolizing the dangerous time of war. The lovers are oblivious to danger, all they feel is the moment of love and the heartwarming intimacy between them.

Here is the spine. My intention was to convey a sense of a substantial collection, presented like volumes in an encyclopedia. Therefore, I used golden lettering on rich red background. I added the lit and shadowed edges for each spine, to achieve depth. Most importantly, at the bottom of it I added a medallion, depicting a detail from the cover of each standalone novel.

Finally, I built it all up so suggest a perspective, and created a reflection underneath, which adheres to the same rules of perspective. And here is the finished cover:

At no other point is passion put to the test as in dire times of war. From the American Civil War to WWII, from Vietnam to the War in Afghanistan to the Persian Gulf, the stories in this boxed set summon the strength of true lovers. Written by bestselling, award-winning, and USA Today authors, the novels and novellas in this collection tell of overcoming loss, injuries, and separation, to celebrate the victory of love. 

If you like Military Romance, Wounded Warrior Romance, Historical Romance, Contemporary Romance, or Romantic Suspense, this anthology invites you to triumph over the worst of conditions and find the courage to bring forth the best in us.

Love Romance? Get this amazing collection
Love in Times of War
No longer available

This is a book that will stay with you forever

Here is a wonderful, heartfelt review by Charlene, about my Romantic Suspense novel, Dancing with Air:

on August 27, 2016
beautiful, simply beautiful. a very emotional and poignant story. The eternal love between Natasha and Lenny is explored. Lenny is Natasha's caregiver and he reminisces about the past. Natasha is a concert pianist and has lost her memory. Lenny was in intelligence operations during WWII.
a deeply emotional story of how Lenny is dealing with Natasha's disease, Alzheimer's, and the love that is so strong between them.
I love the poetry included Uvi's writing of this story and the depth of her words. This book will keep you wanting more.

there is an emotional scene when Lenny makes their "drink" the salty dog, that scene actually brought tears to my eyes.

There is so much depth to this story and I find myself going back again to previous chapters to reread again.

This is a book that will stay with you forever.
Thank you Uvi, for another wonderful book!

You already know, time to turn a leaf

Look, naked arms branch overhead, 
A chipmunk gathers walnuts, scurries down the tree
Curious to see what you've read
What is this book, open over your knee?

The wind whispers of change, of end and of start
You already know, time to turn a leaf
In this growing chill, warm your heart 
With one story after another, telling of love.

Love Romance? Get this amazing collection
No longer available

"The authors... all have gifts to offer and in tandem they present a very fine collection of contemporary writing about Romance, suspense, fiction and a touch of history, Fine curl p by the fire reading" 
-Grady Harp, Hall of Fame Reviewer

Thursday, September 15, 2016

Can I fool him—or am I making a fool of myself?

At last I reach his bed, above which I can see two open tears in the canvas. Slanting down from there are two long rays, the rays of morning light, the glare of which beams down directly upon his eyes, his odd, blind eyes. 
The eyelids are so fine, the little veins so delicate, so transparent, that in a flash I begin to worry. Can I fool him—or am I making a fool of myself? Can he see, even vaguely? Can he tell, somehow, who I am, perhaps by the slightness of my frame, or the general shape of my shoulders? 
Naturally, I have to test it. So I raise my Esav arm, the one with the hairy sleeve. I raise it with the thought of bringing it down upon him in one fell swoop, right next to his cheek, and stopping just short of a slap. Would he flinch? Would he give a flutter? My hand flies up. I freeze. But then, an incredible thing happens. You would not believe it—I do not believe it myself! I cannot, for the life of me, control it any further.
At first I figure that the old man must have cast some spell over me. By all accounts, he is a master of scriptures and can recite magical chants in a number of ancient languages. I stand there, with my arm frozen in the air over him, and with my eyes burning in their sockets as if to drill a hole in him. But nothing seems to have changed: he does not squirm, nor does he stir under my gaze. And so, little by little, I grow calmer. 

★ Love literary fiction? Treat yourself to a gift 

She opens the old story to be instead a lively psychological study of family and of greed and longing for paternal love and more. It works spectacularly well
-Grady Harp, Hall of Fame Reviewer

Tuesday, September 13, 2016

I remember the way I held her in my arms

First Bathsheba throws open the window, letting in a cold morning breeze. As if to tell me that this is already autumn, a smell of dry leaves wafts in. The silk curtains start swishing as they sway, they billow wildly around her, blotting and redrawing the curves of her silhouette, which in a blink, brings back to me the fullness of her figure back then, when she was expecting our first child. I remember the way I held her in my arms that hot summer evening, right there by that window. Together, we looked out at the last glimmer of the sun, sinking. 
I remember the way she guided my hand, ever so gently, so I could feel her skin, her warmness, and the faint kick of the baby inside her. Then the glow dimmed, it smoldered into darkness. After a while we could no longer guess the exact place where it had happened.
Now, looking at her back from across the chamber, I wonder: does she remember that moment? And if so, does she remember it fondly? Is there a glint of laughter playing in her eyes? 
The rings, high up there above her head, start squealing as she slides the curtain, with a harsh movement, across its pole. A moment later she comes over here and bends over the bed, where the young girl, Abishag, lays dreaming, with her arms loosely wrapped around me. 
“Get up,” Bathsheba says to her, without bothering to look at me,  to check if I am awake. “I’ve brought fresh towels for you. Get up.”
The girl opens her eyes and at once, her muscles tense up. She withdraws from me and with a light-footed leap hops off the bed. I can tell she is embarrassed, because this has been her first night here, with me, and because it must be hard to decide what to do next: walk backwards from my wife and shrink away, somehow—or curtsey before her, which is an awkward thing to do when you are wearing next to nothing. 
“Go already, go wash yourself,” says Bathsheba, looking at the girl with an amused, belittling smile on her lips. “You should’ve cleaned yourself last night, before coming to his bed. Didn’t they tell you?

★ Love historical fiction? Treat yourself to a gift 
Historical Fiction with a Modern Twist...

"The miracle of Uvi Poznansky's writing is her uncanny ability to return to old stories 
and make them brilliantly fresh"
-Grady Harp, Hall of Fame reviewer

A Beautiful Love Story

A beautiful review by Regina of my WWII romance novel, Dancing with Air:

on August 19, 2016
Love is the beautiful thread that weaves Lenny and Natasha lives together.

Dancing With Air is a lovely story set in a very unlovely era – WWII. Bad things are happening all around Lenny and Natasha and somehow their love finds a way to thrive in spite of it all. Bombs are falling, danger lurks around every corner and let’s not forget Natasha’s mother – someone very determined to keep them apart.

This book has a wonderful mixture of what Lenny and Natasha’s lives were like back when they were falling in love and the present time, as Lenny tries to deal with his wife’s frightening disease – Alzheimer’s. As the reader we want everything to be okay for both Lenny and Natasha
but know it probably won’t be.

Dancing With Air is a rollercoaster ride of joy and sorrow- such a beautiful experience.

Tiny lizards and worms were soaring over us in a big swirl

Rising, somehow, to a shaky stand I popped my eyes open. Still, all I could see in the mounting darkness is the quick flash of her teeth. She bared them in a smile. 
I turned my gaze away, noting the walls around us. I had seen an elevator once, when Job had taken me to a hotel, the King David Hotel in Jerusalem. He had booked the honeymoon suite up there at the very top, knowing it would impress a simple village girl like me. But now, this here was like no elevator I had ever seen before. 
How can I begin to describe it to you? Space was tight. In distress I looked up—perhaps by force of habit—to cry, to say a prayer. Stones, torn roots, autumn leaves, most of them already rotten, even tiny lizards and worms were soaring over us in a big swirl, bouncing from time to time off the walls, and then being blown up and away with a big spit, straight off the top of this thing. 
After a while you could breathe again, if you were so inclined. I was not. In the shadows, if you dared brush your fingers around you, you might feel the mud slipping upward along the walls as we went on falling. 
Then came various outlines, various shells and pebbles and hairy seaweed, all floating across a layer of damp air. From time to time a fish skeleton swam by, lit from inside, like the neon signs at the top of that hotel in Jerusalem. And then, puff! The skeleton hit the elevator wall and crumbled to dust. 
Layer after layer rose away. Water, vapor, gas; cold, hot, toasty. All the while the floor kept accumulating hairy strands of algae, crumpled insect wings, chopped off lizard tails, split-open pebbles, coal dust...

★ Love Horror? Treat yourself to a thrill 

The ideas seem from a different realm of non-reality, but they are so immaculately constructed that each work becomes a little treasure to visit repeatedly. 
-Grady Harp, Hall of Fame Reviewer