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Paullina Simons

The Bronze Horseman

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The golden skies, the translucent twilight, the white nights, all hold the promise of youth, of love, of eternal renewal. The war has not yet touched this city of fallen grandeur, or the lives of two sisters, Tatiana and Dasha Metanova, who share a single room in a cramped apartment with their brother and parents. Their world is turned upside down when Hitler's armies attack Russia and begin their unstoppable blitz to Leningrad.
Yet there is light in the darkness. Tatiana meets Alexander, a brave young officer in the Red Army. Strong and self-confident, yet guarding a mysterious and troubled past, he is drawn to Tatiana—and she to him. Starvation, desperation, and fear soon grip their city during the terrible winter of the merciless German siege. Tatiana and Alexander's impossible love threatens to tear the Metanova family apart and expose the dangerous secret Alexander so carefully protects—a secret as devastating as the war itself—as the lovers are swept up in the brutal tides that will change the world and their lives forever.
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997 trycksidor
Utgivningsår
2009
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Intryck

  • megustasbananadelade ett intryckför 5 år sedan
    👍Värt att läsa
    🔮Oanat djup
    🐼Mysig

    Beautifully written 😭💖 Very touching indeed, definitely a page turner!

  • Teodora Lascudelade ett intryckför 4 år sedan
    👍Värt att läsa
    💞Full av kärlek

    A great love story about sacrifice and about never giving up your beliefs.

Citat

  • Hadas Guzmanhar citeratför 5 år sedan
    urious. Dasha usually revealed little about her grown-up life. Tatiana sat up.

    “Something great!” said Dasha. “I’m in love!”

    Tatiana rolled her eyes and fell back on the bed.

    “Stop it!” Dasha said, jumping on top of her. “This is serious, Tania.”

    “Yes, all right. Did you just meet him yesterday when the bridges were up?” She smiled.

    “Yesterday was the third time.”

    Tatiana shook her head, gazing at Dasha, whose joy was infectious. “Can you get off me?”

    “No, I can’t get off you,” Dasha said, tickling her. “Not until you say, ‘I’m happy, Dasha.’”

    “Why would I say that?” exclaimed Tatiana, laughing. “I’m not happy. Stop it! Why should I be happy? I’m not in love. Cut it out!”

    Mama came back into the room, carrying six cups on a round tray and a silver samovar—an urn with a spigot used for boiling water for tea. “You two will stop at once! Did you hear me?”

    “Yes, Mama,” said Dasha, giving Tatiana o

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