Monday, August 30, 2021

A Thrilling Ride Through Pandemic-ridden LA


Aaron P. Lazar

 A Thrilling Ride Through Pandemic-ridden LA 

5 out of 5 stars
5 out of 5 stars
5 out of 5 stars

Reviewed: 08-30-21

Overdue, by Uvi Poznansky, is a thrilling ride through pandemic-ridden Los Angeles with a fiery heroine, the nastiest of villains, and plenty of heart-pounding action. 

I have read, listened to, and loved all of Poznansky’s books. Opposed to the norm where most series follow-ons aren’t nearly as amazing as the first book, these books get better with each new release. In addition to the danger facing the main character, Ash, and her race to survive, we also experience more of the exciting virtual reality aspects from the founding book, Virtually Lace, in a particularly creepy fashion! 

A new, powerful character is featured in this edition who readers will simultaneously hate and with whom they’ll empathize. A bone thin actress with a habit plays a pivotal role. Ms. Voola is involved with the Russian thugs who are after Ash. Tightly woven into the mobsters’ schemes to take advantage of a world plagued by the virus, the chameleon-like woman is nearly the undoing of our hero. 

As usual, this novel is beautifully written by a very talented author. And even though this is an action thriller, Poznansky finds ways to paint gorgeous described scenes without slowing down the action. 

The narrator, Heather Jane Hogan, is outstanding. Her ability to vary her voice to match the character, as well as her wonderful Russian accent, are superb! Listening to Ms. Hogan is a delightful experience. 

Here’s hoping the next book in the series is underway! 

- Highly recommended by Aaron Lazar, USA Today Bestselling Author.

Monday, August 23, 2021

Emotional Family Portrait

 Love this review, the reader got the essence of Apart from Love.

Reviewed in the United States on August 20, 2021

With poetic tone and descriptions, this author delves into the heart of Lenny, Anita and Ben, portraying their perspectives about an elephant in the room, which happens to be dementia, caused by Alzheimer’s. Each character--in their own unique voice--describes why this isn’t your typical love story--thus the title—Apart from Love. Romance shouldn’t just be graphic portraits of physical lust—as in the, “sharp thrill of danger.” No—romance should be the how, the why, the sounds that transpire, the music, the memories and so much more. There is so much emotion here, so much color, tenderness and pain, all painted through a collection of voices; one family’s kaleidoscope of tears, transcribed from a tape-recorder, becoming a book to be shared, a lesson learned, a gift of love. Truly, a wonderful story reminding us of our own evanescence.

Thursday, August 19, 2021

Along with a pungent scent of seaweed and decay, it brought back the memory of the body

Common wisdom suggests that the killer always comes back to the murder scene, because of an urge to relive the thrill—morbid as it might be—of taking a life. Michael felt a similar urge, but he told himself it was for purely analytical reasons, so he might study every detail and plug it into his computer simulation, in search for clues.

His cellphone and the attached miniature omnidirectional camera had sunk in the waves at the murder scene. At this point, he assumed they were lost to him. But he was determined to recover something else left behind: his shoes. His good pair of shoes, to be exact. How could he have forgotten all about them, until now? Last night he had tossed them away, so as to move barefoot over the pebbles and into the shallow water, where the body lay atop the rocks. 

Because of the shock, he had only a vague memory of his way up the trail back to his car. Now, the last thing he needed was for those shoes to fall into the cops’ hands, to be examined for traces of his DNA. 

He could just imagine them—the shoes, not the cops—wrapped in two little plastic bags, one marked exhibit F and the other exhibit G. Finding them in time was a pressing task. It was time to go back to Laguna Beach.

By noontime, the veil of morning fog lay in shreds. Out of it emerged gray cliffs. The ocean sprawled at their feet in endless recoil. One breaker after another turned upon itself and, reduced to shallow silence, rolled its froth backwards from the shore. A flock of gulls camped on top of the rock formation. They seemed to be contemplating the scene with a patient indifference.

Michael took out the seashell he had bought from the little girl last night and lifted it to his ear. What was that sound, inside? A hiss? No, it was the faint wheeze of the surge. It emanated from the inner passage of the shell, and along with a pungent scent of seaweed and decay, brought back the memory of the body. There she was, her beautiful head crowned with algae, her delicate throat cut, oozing blood.

Virtually Lace

(Volume I of High-Tech Crime Solvers)

Paperback Hardcover


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?

"This is certainly a compelling storyline that uses virtual reality to help solve a crime. I think this should become a movie for TV. It has just the right touch of romance and mystery!"
Joyce K. Retherford, Audible Listener

Wednesday, August 18, 2021

Lost life



 Lost life 

5 out of 5 stars
5 out of 5 stars
5 out of 5 stars

Reviewed: 31-07-21

Engaging story - Lenny reflects back on his life and times with Natasha. Looking forward to the next book.
Excellent narration

Monday, August 16, 2021

Natasha would be horrified to learn that my temple had been grazed, earlier that day, by a bullet

This, here, was no man’s land. 
I spotted haystacks at the edge of a distant field and pictured myself lying there in the hay with my sweetheart, weaving flowers in her wavy, red hair. I watched the sky darkening and imagined her in my arms. If this were a time of peace, we would gaze together at the stars, rising ever so slowly over both of us. 
Above me, birds were chirping as they flew over mud, blood and the stench of dead bodies. I was puzzled at the craziness in this place, where beauty coexisted, strangely enough, with horrific ugliness.
 For a moment, I recalled the stories my dad had told me about trench warfare, dating back to his service in the First World War. Unprotected from rain, snow, and cold, many of the trenches had been continually flooded, exposing the troops to frostbites. With swollen feet, he had waded through water, surrounded by a multitude of frogs and faced with the nightmarish sight of red slugs and beetles with weird horns, all wriggling along the ledges. And then, the rats... Large and utterly fearless, they had invaded the foxholes. Feeding upon the dead had made them contemptuous of the living. 
I stretched out as best I could at the bottom of my trench and relaxed into feeling lucky. Of course, Natasha would be horrified to learn that my temple had been grazed, earlier that day, by a bullet—but unlike what my father had gone through, my discomfort was not amplified by the ravages of winter.
The mound just ahead of me was in bloom. It was springtime. For that, and for the rustle of her letter in my breast pocket, which brought her closer to me, I felt grateful.

★ Love suspense? Treat yourself to a thrill ★

"Uvi Poznansky raises the stakes in a high stakes story, filled with uncertainty, drama and suspense... This book is a nail biter and one I found hard to put down. For me, this is Uvi Poznansky's best novel to date." 
Richard Weatherly, Author

Saturday, August 14, 2021

A new audiobook: Pam of Babylon

Here is a new audiobook, written by my wonderful friend who is a prolific author,  Suzanne Jenkins. Pam of Babylon is the first of a 24-book series, and all of them will be produced in audio. So I highly recommend you meet the characters, they will be with you for an emotional journey! 

When Jack has a heart attack on the train from Manhattan, his wife and two lovers discover secrets and lies, and each other.
For Long Islander Pam Smith, happily preparing for the return of her husband every Friday night is a way of life, until she receives a dreaded telephone call that will change everything, forever. Three very different women - a wife and two mistresses - gather at the deathbed of Jack Smith, the man that connects them all. As they grapple with their loss, they come to know one another, realizing that the man they all loved was not what he seemed to be. Can they discover the whole truth about Jack and make peace with it, or is their trust in him already too deeply shattered?

Written by:

Suzanne Jenkins


USA Today Bestselling, award winning author Suzanne Jenkins writes page-turning contemporary romance, mystery, and women's fiction with passionately gripping characters that stay with readers long after they turn the last page.  Girls in the City Series, The Saints of San Diego, Bittersweets Romance Series, Cypress Cove Romances and The Detroit Detective Stories are a reflection of American fantasy with historical reality. Her Pam of Babylon series with twenty-three books consistently rank in the Top 100 Best Sellers in American Drama with over 500,000 downloads.

Narrated by:

Marnye Young

Narrator of Pam of Babylon, Marnye holds a Master of Fine Arts from Yale School of Drama and, in addition to her experience on stage and screen, has been building an impressive career as a narrator. In 2018, she started her own audiobook production company called Audio Sorceress.
Today, Marnye is an award-winning narrator and producer having recorded over 170 titles. Audio Sorceress, with an extensive global roster of narrators to complete projects for clients all over the world, has grown to a team of six, including engineers, a production coordinator, and a graphic designer and will be marking their 200th production in less than two years. Her company continues to partner with different publishers to produce their audiobooks including Dreamscape Media, Books Fluent, Breaking Night Press and more.

Watch the beautiful trailer :

 Listen to the voice sample:

Friday, August 6, 2021

It is not a costume. This is your skin

For the third day in a row, one bird after another flew into my father’s tent and tore into the canvas. On the first day, the maidservants mended the tear. On the second day they let it be, saying that in their opinion, the increased air circulation would do him some good, perhaps even revive him. And on the third day, at the sight of one open tear after another, a whisper spread around the camp, saying that this could be nothing else but an omen. It was on the fourth day that my mother decided to go in and see the old man. 
By now she has sent away the maidservants, dismissed the guard and told me to stand near the entry, where the rope is double knotted over the peg of the tent, and prepare myself. I am itchy. The goatskin sleeve around my arm feels heavy and moist with sweat. It is as hairy as my twin brother Esav, perhaps even hairier. 
“Look at that sleeve,” she tells me. “It is not a costume. This is your skin. Feel it. Smell it. Say to yourself: My name is not Yankle. I am not me. I am bold, fierce, adventurous. I am my father’s favorite son. I am Esav.”
I fix the fur hat on my head, wipe the sweat off my upper lip and try to tell myself, over and over, that this arm is no longer mine. It is his. I am him. As such, this is to be my lucky day. It has started well: My brother has been out of the way all morning, hunting somewhere up there, in the mountains. Meanwhile, the stew for my father’s meal has been dished into a plate and covered with a lid, ready to be carried in. 
This is more than a meal. It is a token, a love offering from the son he loves. The chosen one. In exchange, the old man is to give his blessing, at which time his power will diminish. And the son, the one he loves, will take his place, and replace him as the head of the family, inheriting all his possessions.
The plot is ready, and my role, I repeat to myself, is well-rehearsed. Well, as well as can be. According to my mother, there is no time, and no need, really, for any more practice. Trying too hard, as you know, may be the best guaranty for failure. 
“Your father is blind. Fool him,” she says. “But do so, if you can, without resorting to lies.” 
To which I say, “How—”
“Don’t you know?” she says, teasingly. “Think! What is the best, the most reliable way to deceive? It is this: Pay attention to what he needs, and then confirm that which he wants to believe, as if, Yankle, as if it were true.” 

★ Love literary fiction? Treat yourself to a gift 

"It was beautifully written and flowed so well. I thoroughly enjoyed every second of it. The narrator was great and did a wonderful job with the voices and narration."
Jenn F. Garcia, Audible listener

Thursday, August 5, 2021

The only inheritance your Pa left us is a dream, the dream of you becoming famous one day

Over the mantle hung three formal family pictures. When Natasha came back from the kitchen I asked her about them. 
At once, her Mama cut in. “My daughter comes from a long line of musicians,” she said, in her heavy Russian accent.
“Mama,” said the girl. “I can speak for myself.”
I pointed at the first picture. “Who’s this?”
“This,” said Natasha, “Is my great grandfather, the famous Abraham Horowitz, who graduated from the Kiev Conservatory at the turn of the century. He rose to stardom rapidly and toured from Moscow to Rostov-on-the-Don, where he was often paid with bread, butter and chocolate, rather than money, because these were tough times.”
“And this?” 
“This is Joseph Horowitz, my grandfather. He aspired to become a violin player, but his hand was damaged for life, when the riffraff attacked him during a pogrom in Odessa. So instead he became a music teacher. Later, he developed a method, a unique method to memorize long passages of music, by practicing the notes back to front.”
“And this,” she said, reaching up to touch the third picture, “this is my Papa, Benjamin Horowitz. When he came to the states he became a conductor. Meanwhile he took that method one step further. Instead of the traditional way of playing through the passage repeatedly, you would commit it to memory, or rather to your subconscious mind, by means of performing it every night before falling asleep—without holding the instrument in your hands.”
“A spendthrift, that’s what he was,” Mrs. Horowitz blurted out all of a sudden.
“Now, Mama, don’t start!” said the girl.
“Who’s starting?” the older woman threw her hands in the air. “I’m already in the middle of talking!”
“Then please, please stop—”
“What, I’m not allowed to tell the truth? The only inheritance your Pa left us is a dream, the dream of you becoming famous one day, and oh yes, how could I forget, also a bunch of heavy loans on the house, without any means of paying them off.”
“Why complain so much, Mama? It was fun for you, wasn’t it, while it lasted—”
“Which wasn’t too long, the way he gambled away his money! By the time his illness started, we were already hopelessly in debt.”
Undeterred, Mrs. Horowitz shook her head, which in turn shook her bird-nest style hairdo. “Years earlier,” she said, “before he asked me to marry him, everyone was so, so very impressed with his talent. They predicted such a bright future for him. Where are all of them now?”
“But Mama,” said the girl, “what does the bright future he had in the past have to do with the present?”
“It has everything to do with here and now. You,” said Mrs. Horowitz, turning upon me, “yes, I’m talking to you! What’s your idea of the future? What are you planning to make of yourself, young man?”

★ Love reading? Treat yourself to a love story ★

"I have read and listened to all of Poznansky’s work, but this book resonated more deeply with me than all the previous titles, which I truly enjoyed. I suppose it is because I am an inveterate romantic. I ached for the young, “flashback” characters to come together. I shouted at them to wake up and smell the coffee when they missed opportunities to get together, and I reveled in the sweet endings when they finally connected."
Aaron P. Lazar, Audible listener