Wednesday, March 31, 2021

Hope it is not the end

Renee  Giraldy is a prolific, avid reader, and she posts her reviews on her lovely blog. I feel so grateful to find what she wrote about my thriller, Overdue:

Reviewed in the United States on March 25, 2021
YES the Russian's are baaaaccck. I knew they would be and I am SO anxious. Ash finds herself in another situation. This book, like book 2 has a socially relevant theme a pandemic. So I can't say too much about the plot other than the theme and the Russians. We are back in Los Angeles now too. This book features a character Voola that is just what makes the book elevate from good to great. Typical LA actress want-to-be and a drug issue.

Another hit nothing else to say Just read it

Tuesday, March 30, 2021

Spring is in the Air: Join our audiobook event

A select group of authors has joined forces with me

To bring you amazing stories, beautifully narrated.

Looking for a stories to listen to on a breezy spring evening? 

Come listen to our audiobooks 

Join us as a GOING guest

for a chance to win of them:

Spring is in the Air

(Just ahead of Mother’s Day)

Uvi Poznansky

Ash Suspense thrillers: Trilogy

Dancing with Air

Apart from Love

The Edge of Revolt


Aaron Paul Lazar

For the Birds


Essentially Yours


Allen Kent

The Shield of Darius

Cary Allen Stone

Seeds: The Journey Begins

Seeds: The Journey Continues

Seeds: The Journey Home

Casi McLean

Virtually Timeless

Between the Shadows

The List: Alyssa’s Revenge

CB Samet

Romancing the Spirit (books 1-6)

The Rider Files: Meridian File

Romancing the Spirit (books 7-12)

The Rider Files: Matisse File

Colleen Mooney

Drive Thru Murder

Dog Gone & Dead

Dead and Breakfast

Politians, Potholes & Pralines

Inge-Lise Goss


Diamonds and Lies

Fatal Limit

J.C. Fields

The Last Insurgent

Libby Fischer Hellmann

A Bend in the River

A Bitter Veil

Linnea Tanner

Apollo’s  Raven

Dagger’s Destiny

Amulet’s Rapture

Marisa Masterson

Ginger Snap

A Bride for Bode

A Shadowed Groom for Christmas

Mimi Barbour

Special Agent Francesca

Patrice Wilton

Play Right by Me

S.R. Mallery

Tea, Anyone?

Genteel Secrets

The Dolan Girls

Sewing Can Be Dangerous

Angelica Kate

Pieces of Her Heart

Scripting the Past

Parallel Lives

Scars of Yesterday

Chariss K. Walker

Becky Tibbs: A Medium Mystery Series 1-5


Katie Mettner

Butterflies and Hazel Eyes

Monday, March 29, 2021

She must have been eager, at first, to meet the notoriously dashing young hero

 Seeing how exhausted I am, Abishag takes the feather, ever so gently, from my fingers, careful not to touch the tip, and withdraws from me. Washing the ink off at the other end of the chamber, she bends over the windowsill, glancing at the lush trees swaying down there, in the royal gardens. Without words, she hums a little tune under her breath, and her voice is so sad, so melodious, that it tells me how desperately she misses her faraway village, from where she was taken to the palace. 

She must have been eager, at first, to meet the notoriously dashing young hero, the slayer of Goliath, the idol drawn so perfectly out of legends that belong to a dying generation. Only now does she realize that I belong nowhere else but in her aging mother’s dreams. 
I tell her, “Listen, daughter, and pay careful attention. Forget your people and your father’s house. Let the king be enthralled by your beauty. Honor him, for he is your lord.”
And at once I wonder, why do I take this fatherly tone with her, all of a sudden? And why do I speak of myself as if I were not here?
Abishag cannot help but yawn, which I happen to understand, because the lecture I have aimed at her bores me, too. 
“So many young men, out there,” she whispers.
“So much noise,” I complain, over her excitement.
“If it’s disturbing to you, your majesty, I can go down,” she offers. “I can ask them to keep things more quiet, for you.”
“No,” say I. “Stay with me.”
“Are you cold? Shall I close the curtains?” 
“No. Keep them open.”
Then, with slight hesitation, “Your son,” she says. “What does he want? Why did he come?”
“He loves me so,” I say, hoping she would not catch the irony in my voice. “Once in a long while he comes up here, to check if I’m still breathing.”
Abishag says nothing in reply. After a long pause she asks, “Did he invite you to the festivities? I would love to escort you—”
“Festivities?” say I. “No one tells me anything these days, which is why I am becoming so pitifully suspicious.”
“I see him down there,” she says. “His guests are arriving now, gathering around to greet him. They’re laughing. He’s not.”
At that I wave my hand. “Adoniah must be tired. He’s utterly weary of life here, in my palace. Luxury can be such a boring thing when you’re born into it.”
She glances back at me, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Is it, really?”
“It must be,” say I. “Unlike me, he’s never fought for what he has. To entertain him, his mother throws one party after another in his honor.”
“He’s young,” says Abishag. “And so tense. She just wants to make him happy.”

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

"At times startling, as times awe-inspiring, and at all times fine reading, this is a welcome addition to the growing library of one our more important writers" 
-Grady Harp, Hall of Fame Reviewer

Saturday, March 27, 2021

This book wasn't what I was expecting

The White Piano is not an easy read. It is an intimate look into family secrets and how they affect each one of its members. I'm so glad to read this review for the book:

Reviewed in the United States on March 23, 2021

This book wasn't what I was expecting. I was expecting a light read. However, it is much more as it deals with relationships within a family dealing with an estranged son who has returned home without being told of his parents divorce and his Mother's Alzheimers. He also learns of his Father's new, young wife. All of this is hard for him to accept and blames his Father. It is an enlightening book and well worth reading. This author definitely knows how to write. I want to read more of her books

Before he could guess what kind of trouble I had cooked up in my head, I kissed him

The minute our eyes met, I knew what to do: so I stopped in the middle of what I was doing, which was dusting off the glass shield over the ice cream buckets, and stacking up waffle cones here and sugar cones there. From the counter I grabbed a bunch of paper tissues, and bent all the way down, like, to pick something from the floor. Then with a swift, discrete shove, I stuffed the tissues into one side of my bra, then the other, ‘cause I truly believe in having them two scoops—if you know what I mean—roundly and firmly in place. 
Having a small chest is no good: men seem to like girls with boobs that bulge out. It seems to make an awful lot of difference, especially at first sight, which you can always tell by them customers, drooling. 
I straightened up real fast, and it didn’t take no time for him to come in. I was still serving another customer, some obnoxious woman with, like, three chins. She couldn’t make up her mind if she wanted hot fudge on top or just candy sprinkles, and what kind, what flavor would you say goes well with pistachio nut, and how about them slivered almonds, because they do seem to be such a healthy choice, now really, don’t they. 
He came in and stood in line, real patient, right behind her. So now I noted his eyes, which was brown, and his high forehead and the crease, the faint crease right there, in the middle of it, which reminded me all of a sudden of my pa, who left us for good when I was only five, and I never saw him again—but still, from time to time, I think about him and I miss him so.
I could feel Lenny—whose name I didn’t know yet—like, staring at me. It made me hot all over. For a minute there, I could swear he was gonna to ask me how old I was—but he didn’t. 
And so, to avoid blushing, I turned to him and I said, boldly, “It’s a crime?” 
And he said, “What?” 
And I said, “To be sixteen. It’s a crime, you think?” 
And he said, “Back in the days when I was young and handsome, that was no crime.” 
And I countered with, “Handsome you still are!” 
He had no comeback for that, and me, I didn’t have nothing with which I could follow it up. So I asked, “So? What kind of cone for you?” but that woman cut in, ‘cause I was still holding her three-scoops tower of pistachio nut on a sugar cone. And she started to cry out, and like, demand some attention here, because hey, she was first in line and how about whipped cream? Or some of that shredded coconut? 
So I smiled at her, in my most cool and polite manner, and squeezed out a big dollop of whipped cream, which was awesome, ‘cause it calmed her down right away. 
And I scattered some of them coconut flakes all over—quite a heap—and went even further, adding a cherry on top. At last, I raised the thing to my lips, because at this point, it was starting to drip already.
Then, winking at him, I passed my tongue over the top, and all around the ice cream at the rim of the cone, filling my whole mouth and, just to look sexy, also licking the tips of my fingers. Then I came around the counter, swaying my hips real pretty, and steadying myself over the wobbly high heels. I came right up to him, and before he could guess what kind of trouble I had cooked up in my head, I kissed him—so sweet and so long—on his lips, to the shouts and outcries of the offended customer. 

Many readers asked me about Anita, the girl in the midst of a firestorm of passion in my new book, Apart from Love. She is so different... How, some of you have wondered out loud, did she spring from your mind?

The answer is, at first I decided to model her as the-opposite-of-me. By which I mean a lot more that just her use of language (talking in sentences laden with 'like' and the dreaded double-negatives.) Anita was to become a bold and spontaneous spirit, anything but repressed. She would be promiscuous. Her voice would be shockingly direct.

I do not even know how it happened, but once Anita started talking in my mindwhich she did for nearly a yearI started to like her more and more. I asked myself, how would she play against Ben, who is a complex character, hesitant, highly sophisticated? How would she play against Lenny, a would-be author who is so proud of his refined expressions, when her background is so different from his?

To my surprise, Anita ended up taking over not only the story, but also me.

★ Love reading? Treat yourself to a family drama ★

"There is an air of mystery about the book that runs from the beginning to the final pages, but that also draws the reader in and makes the book difficult to put down." 
- Kathy Parsons, Top 1000 Reviewer

Friday, March 26, 2021

I knew he needed to hear these words

So later, while sticking the key in the door, I turned to him and said, “Trouble, that’s my middle name,” which was a line I used sometimes, ‘cause it sounded so clever. 
“No, really?” he said. 
To which I replied by asking, “What, you think it’s a crime? Like, kissing me, I mean?” And he said, “It’s just... I do not want to start something which can lead nowhere, really.”
What could I say to that, except, “There’s no one home. Stay a minute. Is that a crime, too?” 
I handed him an old record, something slow from the sixties, which years ago used to bring tears to ma’s eyes, because—in spite of looking so tough—she still had a soft spot somewhere in her, even if most of the time you can’t find it. She used to play it often—but now not so much no more. 
So I thought he might like it. Lenny put it on the record player, so in a second the mood was better, even though the thing squeaked from time to time. 
He turned to me the minute I untied my pony tail, and told me I reminded him of a girl he used to know, and would I like to dance. 
I stepped out of my shoes and into his arms, and before he could say anything I slipped out of my dress, too. I thought I looked, like, a little too slender in my panties, so I told him to close his eyes—but at this point, because of being so aroused, and trying so hard not to show it, I forgot all about them tissues at each side of my bra, which now and again, made a slight swoosh. 
Later I wondered if he wondered about that.
I rose to the tips of my toes, feeling the touch of his shirt and the pleat of his pants, right against my bare skin. And I placed my hands on his shoulders, and felt his hands on my hips. 
And so he held me there, a long, long time in the dark. And me, I got to touch his lips, and that crease up there, on his forehead, and we swayed back and forth: I clinging to him, he—to that one girl, the girl he used to know.
Then he moved away abruptly, saying that he was too old for me, and anyway, what was he doing, he had a child, a boy just a year older than me. So I took a step closer, like, to close the gap again. And feeling lost, like a stray kitten out in the cold, I said, “Just hold me, Lenny. Just hold me tight. I need you so bad.” 
And the minute I said it, I knew he needed to hear these words, needed to know that he was really needed.  

★ Treat yourself to a family drama ★

"There is an air of mystery about the book that runs from the beginning to the final pages, but that also draws the reader in and makes the book difficult to put down." 
- Kathy Parsons, Top 1000 Reviewer

Another installment in a great series

Renee Giraldy is a prolific, avid reader, and she posts her reviews on her lovely blog. I feel so grateful to find what she wrote about my thriller, Overkill:

Reviewed in the United States on March 25, 2021

This book starts with the main character from book 1, Ash arriving in Florida. Different scenery with more drama. Although I loved the California scenery from book 1, Florida is a nice change shooting, a kid and Ash. What a fast paced thriller. Every few chapters a new twist and turn. Now in the news we hear all about school shootings, so it is a socially relevant issue.

The other love for me was the secret room. When Ash confronts the landlord, she is told it doesn't exist. This is another part of the mystery I loved.

The latest installment in the series is another page turner. It is a lot to digest. Ash has become a likeable character who constantly gets the wrongs really wrong. Another must read from a great author!

Thursday, March 25, 2021

GREAT thriller

Renee Giraldy is a prolific, avid reader, and she posts her reviews on her lovely blog. I feel so grateful to find what she wrote about my novel, Coma Confidential: 

Reviewed in the United States on March 24, 2021

When the book opens it is clear that Ash is in a coma. Being trapped in the hospital room and listening to her loved ones. Are they loving? hhhmmm When people are in a coma most Doctors tell family to talk to them, they can hear you. Well this is true! The boyfriend’s motives are clear and Ash is aware.

Uvi Poznansky’s COMA CONFIDENTIAL brings us on a journey. There is a great story here without a lot of medical talk. The author creates the scene with her words making you feel the inner turmoil of a coma patient. The best part for me was the Russian connection. Very original story. Can you actually “like” Russian hackers? Yes! This part was a page turner. A must read series!