Tuesday, 9 August 2016

Guest blog: Uvi Poznansky - 'Dancing with Air'

Serving on the European front, Lenny longs for Natasha, the girl who captured his heart back home. At first, he enjoys fulfilling his military task, which is to write bogus reports, designed to fall into the hands of Nazi Intelligence and divert their attention from the upcoming invasion of Normandy. To fool the enemy, these reports are disguised as love letters to another woman. His task must remain confidential, even at the risk of Natasha becoming suspicious of him.
Once she arrives in London, Lenny takes her for a ride on his Harley throughout England, from the White Cliffs of Dover to a village near an underground ammunition depot in Staffordshire. When he is wounded in a horrific explosion, Natasha brings him back to safety, only to discover the other woman’s letter to him. He wonders, will she trust him again, even though as a soldier, he must keep his mission a secret? Will their love survive the test of war?
In the past Natasha wrote, with girlish infatuation, “He will be running his fingers down, all the way down to the small of my back, touching his lips to my ear, breathing his name, breathing mine. Here I am, dancing with air.” In years to come, she will begin to lose her memory, which will make Lenny see her as delicate. “I gather her gently into my arms, holding her like a breath.” But right now, during the months leading up to D-Day, she is at her peak. With solid resolve, she is ready to take charge of the course of their story.

Dancing with Air is a standalone WWII historical fiction novel, as well as the fourth volume of a family saga series titled Still Life with Memories, one of family sagas best sellers of all time. If you like family saga romance, wounded warrior romance books, romantic suspense novels, military romantic suspense, or strong female lead romance, you will find that this love story is a unique melding of them all.


At the back of the castle, Natasha removed her long-sleeve shirt, saying she was burning hot, even though the air had already started to cool down. Upon reaching the bike, she hopped onto the saddle, pretending to be the rider, but fumbling about, because of knowing next to nothing about the controls.
So tell me,” she said, “how long will it take me to learn to ride the bike?”
Two minutes to understand,” I said. “A lifetime to master.”
I showed her how to do it, how to kick the bike two or three times with the fuel and ignition switch off, so as to get the engine primed with oil, and then how to turn on the fuel valve, the choke, and the ignition switch.
If the engine spits out the exhaust pipes while you’re kicking,” I said, “then you must be getting closer!”
She tried it. At first the beast sputtered, but then, by degrees, its sound grew steadily stronger.
I took the seat behind Natasha, and together we rode the bike some distance away.
The grass around us was swaying in the breeze. It had a lovely sheen and a variety of hues, some of them purplish, which were revealed every now and again, with one gust and another, as if a painter had dipped her brush and on a whim, stroked it here and there.
I hugged Natasha and took in the smell of her hair. It was blowing in the wind, one strand over another. Through the red fuzz of them I spotted the last ray of sun, gleaming upon the French coast. Then it was gone.
The road sloped into a gentle dip in the earth, which took us out of sight of anyone who might happen upon these pastures. But no, there was no one here. Amidst the gloaming, we were alone.
I brought the Harley to a stop, and as soon as she felt me leaning in closer, Natasha said, “Close your eyes.”
Why?” I asked.
Because,” she said.
Because what?”
My swimsuit is wet. I want to take it off.”
In place of obeying her, I said, “Let me watch you.”
She slipped off the bike, and with a slow, deliberate motion, she loosened the straps off her shoulders. Then, instead of removing the swimsuit, Natasha lay her fingers on me, tugging playfully at the buttons of my shirt. I stood up, flung it off and then, in a heartbeat, felt her arms around my waist. They closed into an embrace, which stirred something deep inside me.
Rising to the tips of her toes, she tipped her head back and kissed me, a lingering touch of her lips on mine.
I savored the sweet taste of her, which was salty at the same time. The thin, damp material of her swimsuit was barely a barrier between us. Her nipples were hardening against me as I wrapped my fingers, ever so tenderly, around the back of her neck, holding her, keeping her close.
Meanwhile I caught her earlobe between my teeth and teased it, repeatedly, with my tongue.
Oh,” she murmured, “don’t stop.”
Don’t you ever leave me,” I said, in a voice that was becoming husky.
Aroused, I pressed her tightly to my breast. Natasha sighed, for both pleasure and pain, and suddenly pushed me off, releasing herself from my hold—only to rise back into my kiss, as if she couldn’t get enough of it.
I fell to my knees, bringing her down with me. By now, her hair had come completely undone. It was twisting around her head, in and out of the blades of grass, dabbing them crimson.
I brushed my fingers across her toes, stripping off the grains of sand that clung to the moist skin. Then I went on traveling smoothly along her ankles, over her knees, around her hips, into her inner thighs, all the while listening to her sucking in a startled breath.
All of a sudden, Natasha whispered, “I love you, Lenny. Love the smell of your skin, of your sweat, even. Love the way you groan when I come, when I go, when I touch you.”
I saw that this time, she was going to be anything but timid. Soon it became impossible to pull myself away.
First I was on top, then she, then I, she and I rolled into one, heat surging. I took her and was conquered in return.

Uvi's Links:


The David Chronicles:

Vol I  Rise to Power  ebook print audio 
Vol II  A Peek at Bathsheba  ebook print audio
Vol III The Edge of Revolt ebook print

Still Life with Memories:

Vol I  My Own Voice ebook print audio
Vol II  The White Piano ebook print audio
Vol III  The Music of Us ebook print audio
Vol IV Dancing with Air ebook
Vol I+II  Apart from Love ebook print audio

Sunday, 7 August 2016

Queen's Courier by Jen Black


Against a background of political intrigue and Tudor violence, love is not easy to find or sustain. The Queen Dowager of Scotland repudiates it and for both Matho and Meg the struggle is made more difficult by an outbreak of war between England and Scotland. Disaster looms for them all.....

It has taken a while, but this story is now available on Amazon Kindle.

While it continues the story of Matho, Meg and the Queen Dowager of Scotland, it isn't a sequel in the sense that you need to read Abduction of the Scots Queen, or Fair Border Bride, where Matho first appears.

In Queen's Courier Matho undertakes his first solo mission for Sir Thomas Wharton and sees an opportunity to complete his business and then bring his chosen Scots bride south to his home. The complicated feuds of the Scots entangle him in the siege of Lord Lennox where he is recognised and imprisonment awaiting an interview with the Queen Dowager follows; she sees an opportunity to use him to her advantage.

Meg rides south to the court of Henry Tudor in expectation of Lord Lennox joining her. As the weeks roll by without him, she begins to wonder if she will ever marry, or if she will bear a bastard child and face Henry's wrath alone.


“Harbottle? What in God’s name d’ ye want to go there for?” A goblet of wine half-way to his mouth, Archibald Douglas, sixth Earl of Angus, stared at his daughter as if she were an imbecile.

“I want to see where I was born.” Meg took her place at table beside her father. “Why is that so silly?”

“The place is stuck in the middle of nowhere, lass, that’s why. There’s a sad excuse for a castle perched above a rocky burn and  a hell of a long ride to anywhere. It’ll be raining,” he added morosely. “It was ever raining when I was there.”

Meg chose to ignore the steadily increasing flesh that had all but buried the handsome bones of his face. Loving him did not mean, however, that she agreed with everything he said and did. “As I understand it, you weren’t there very long.”

Angus banged the goblet on the table, anger in his drawn brows, but before he could speak, Meg followed up her attack. “You can’t deny you left your wife there to bear a child and rode off to further your own concerns.”

“Your mother was as hare-brained then as ye are today. Who do ye think had to safeguard what property we had and talk sweetly to Henry of England?” Angus roared his displeasure. “Not your mother, even though Henry was her brother. She expected everything to happen as she wished.”

“Well, why not?” Meg lifted her chin.

“Och, aye.” His eyebrows rose, causing furrows in his forehead. “I didna notice ye an’ James were on such good terms. It’s no’ that simple, Meg. Use your head for a change.”

He had a point. Her half-brother Jamie had never truly accepted her, no matter how much she tried to win his friendship. She softened her tone. “I don’t see what harm it can do, to visit the place where I was born. I’m curious, that’s all.”

“Ye’ll put yersel’ on a platter for the rabble that infests the Borders.” Angus waggled a warning finger under her nose. “If they snatch ye, a demand for ransom won’t be the worst thing ye face. Most sensible folk would take an escort and head for Berwick.”

“I shall be perfectly safe, Father. When you join the Dowager’s train tomorrow, I shall also leave. The English Warden will meet me at the border and escort me south. A courier has gone on ahead. It is all arranged.” She leant forward, and laid her hand on the velvet of his sleeve. “Don’t worry about me. After all, I am half-English and the king’s niece.”