E-book exclusive: The author's tribute to her grandparents, survivors of Russia's twentieth century.
An unforgettable epic of passion, betrayal, and survival set against the shimmering beauty and brutal terror of 1941 war-torn Leningrad.
From the author of the international bestseller Tully comes an epic tale of passion, betrayal, and survival in World War II Russia. Leningrad, 1941: The European war seems far away in this city of fallen grandeur, where splendid palaces and stately boulevards speak of a different age, when the city was known as St. Petersburg. Now two sisters, Tatiana and Dasha Metanov, live in a cramped apartment, sharing one room with their brother and parents. Such are the harsh realities of Stalin's Russia, but when Hitler invades the country, the siege of its cities makes the previous severe conditions seem luxurious.
Against this backdrop of danger and uncertainty, Tatiana meets Alexander, an officer in the Red Army whose self-confidence sets him apart from most Russian men and helps to conceal a mysterious and troubled past.
Once the relentless winter and the German army's blockade take hold of the city, the Metanovs are forced into ever more desperate measures to survive. With bombs falling and food becoming scarce, Tatiana and Alexander are drawn to each other in an impossible love that threatens to tear her family apart and reveal his dangerous secret -- a secret as destructive as the war itself. Caught between two deadly forces, the lovers find themselves swept up in a tide of history at a turning point in the century that made the modern world.
Mesmerizing from the very first page to the final, breathtaking end, The Bronze Horseman brings alive the story of two indomitable, heroic spirits and their great love that triumphs over the devastation of a country at war.
The Field of Mars
Light came through the window, trickling morning all over the room. Tatiana Metanova slept the sleep of the innocent, the sleep of restless joy, of warm, white Leningrad nights, of jasmine June. But most of all, intoxicated with life, she slept the exuberant sleep of undaunted youth.
She did not sleep for much longer.
When the sun's rays moved across the room to rest at the foot of Tatiana's bed, she pulled the sheet over her head, trying to keep the daylight out. The bedroom door opened, and she heard the floor creak once. It was her sister, Dasha.
Daria, Dasha, Dashenka, Dashka.
She represented everything that was dear to Tatiana.
Right now, however, Tatiana wanted to smother her. Dasha was trying to wake her up and, unfortunately, succeeding. Dasha's strong hands were vigorously shaking Tatiana, while her usually harmonious voice was dissonantly hissing, "Psst! Tania! Wake up. Wake up!"
Tatiana. groaned. Dasha pulled back the sheet.
Never was their seven-year age difference more apparent than now, when Tatiana wanted to sleep and Dasha was ...
"Stop it," Tatiana muttered, fishing helplessly behind her for the sheet and pulling it back over her. "Can't you see I'm sleeping? What are you? My mother?"
The door to the room opened. Two creaks on the floor. It was her mother. "Tania? You awake? Get up right now."
Tatiana could never say that her mother's voice was harmonious. There was nothing soft about Irina Metanova. She was small, boisterous, and full of indignant, overflowing energy. She wore a kerchief to keep her hair back from her face, for she had probably already been down on her knees washing the communal bathroom in her blue summer frock. She looked bedraggled and done with her Sunday.
"What, Mama?" Tatiana said, not lifting her head from the pillow. Dasha's hair touched Tatiana's back. Her hand was on Tatiana's leg, and Dasha bent over as if to kiss her. Tatiana felt a momentary tenderness, but before Dasha could say anything, Mama's grating voice intruded. "Get up quick. There's going to be an important announcement on the radio in a few minutes."
Tatiana whispered to Dasha, "Where were you last night? You didn't come in till well past dawn."
"Can I help it," Dasha whispered with pleasure, "that last night dawn was at midnight? I came in at the perfectly respectable hour of midnight." She was grinning. "You were all asleep."
"Dawn was at three, and you weren't home."
Dasha paused. "I'll tell Papa I got caught on the other side of the river when the bridges went up at three."
"Yes, you do that. Explain to him what you were doing on the other side of the river at three in the morning." Tatiana turned over. Dasha looked particularly striking this morning. She had unruly dark brown hair and an animated, round, dark-eyed face that had a reaction for everything. Right now that reaction was cheerful exasperation. Tatiana was exasperated herself -- less cheerfully. She wanted to continue sleeping.
She caught a glimpse of her mother's tense expression. "What announcement?"
Her mother was taking the bedclothes off the sofa.
"Mama! What announcement?" Tatiana. repeated.
"There is going to be a government announcement in a few minutes. That's all I know," Mama said doggedly, shaking her head, as if to say, what's not to understand?
Tatiana. was reluctantly awake. Announcement. It was a rare event when music would be interrupted for a word from the government. "Maybe we invaded Finland again." She rubbed her...
Paullina Simons was born and raised in Leningrad and immigrated to the United States with her family in the 1970s. She is the author of Tully, Red Leaves, and Eleven Hours. She has lived in Rome, London, and Dallas. She now lives in New York City and can be reached at paullinasimons@aol.com.
