Sunday Snippet

This Sunday Snippet is from my novel Torn, an lgbtq+ family saga set amidst the backdrop of the demanding and oftentimes harsh world of classical ballet.   You can purchase your copy of Torn at AMAZON or read for free with your KU subscription. 

Blurb

Kazimir Lebedez is a shocking anomaly in Russian politics. He’s an honest man who can’t be bought. Because he has no secrets. Until an extramarital love affair results in an illegitimate son he decides to hide in plain sight.

Raised in Estonia by his adopted grandmother, Misha Vergara has dreamed of dancing ballet since he was a toddler. He exhibits the natural grace and drive to succeed in the competitive world of classical dance.

Natalya Baranova—Talia—is convinced that she and her bestie, Misha, are destined to be the preeminent ballet couple someday. They work diligently on their craft which ultimately leads them to the Mariinsky Theater in St. Petersburg, Russia.

Henri Minas, a new arrival, has all the qualifications to become a principal dancer, with a face and personality that beguiles and confuses Misha.

Torn between his best friend and Henri, Misha must come to terms with his growing feelings for another boy. In a region of the world where same-sex relationships are forbidden, will Misha follow his heart and choose love with Henri, or stay true to Talia and their shared dream of fame?

To make matter’s worse, all of Kazimir’s carefully crafted lies are about to unravel, as the half brother Misha doesn't know sets his sights on Talia. Now a high-ranking member of the government, can Kaz protect his reputation, and more importantly, his precious love child, without losing it all? 

Snippet

I had no idea what sort of reception to expect from sixty-four-year-old Alla Saar. After my father had won sole custody during divorce proceedings, visits had been discouraged, and our relationship grew awkward. When I married and had my own children, I offered to pay for Alla’s move to St. Petersburg to be closer to my family, but she wanted nothing to do with Mother Russia. She was one among many who’d fought the Soviets for her freedom, and the idea of living under their iron rule again was unacceptable. Alla’s formidable mask was in place when she opened her front door, and her eyes rounded in surprise when she recognized me.

“Janek?”

She was the only person who used the diminutive of my middle name, Ivan, and it would be impossible to associate one with the other. It sounded strange after all these years, but it gave me hope.

“Mama.”

She melted upon seeing an infant strapped in the fancy child carrier.

“Where did this baby come from?” she asked without preamble.

“Nice to see you too,” I muttered. “May we come in?”

“Is it a boy or a girl?”

“He’s your grandson, and we’re both tired and hungry.”

“Who’s the mother?”

Fresh out of patience, I snapped, “For God’s sake, woman. Let us in.”

She opened the door in tiny increments. “No bodyguards?”

“Just me.”

Alla lifted the carrier and laid it on the kitchen table. She studied the baby for several minutes and beamed when Misha rewarded her with a gummy smile. “He’s got more hair than you,” she quipped. “Must take after his mother.”

“He does,” I agreed. “Her name was Anna and he’s her spitting image.”

“Was?”

“She died on September eleven.”

Alla made a choking sound and stroked his head gently. “Poor sweet boy.”

“He still has me.”

“Then why are you here?”

“You know I can’t dump my love child on Faina. She’ll use him as a weapon and make our lives a living hell.”

“Why are you so pussy-whipped when you hold the money and power?”

“It’s a question of survival, Mama. Scandals kill careers, and I have no intention of giving her the opportunity to ruin mine. I’d like my son to grow up within a loving home. I could have pawned him off to Social Services in America. He is a US citizen after all, but Anna would have never forgiven me. I know he’ll be safe with you, and if you’ll allow me to visit occasionally, I’ll have some sort of relationship with the boy even if I can never acknowledge him.”

She picked up the baby and studied him. He waved his tiny arms and blew saliva bubbles. “If I do this, we have to come up with something plausible or my neighbors will gossip and God only knows who’ll turn up to investigate.”

Encouraged, I asked, “What did you have in mind?”

“Will you take care of the red tape?”

“Of course.”

“What’s his name?”

“Miguel Angel Vergara.”

“Lord, what a mouthful.”

“I call him Misha for short.”

“Why?”

“Miguel is Mikhail in Spanish.”

“Then he’s stuck with Misha. I won’t use a name I can’t pronounce.”

“Fine with me.”

She continued to stare at the infant who pummeled his tiny legs enthusiastically. Breaking her gaze, she pinned me down with a determined look in her eyes. “Will you support him generously?”

“I promise neither one of you will ever want for money.”

“No interference?”

“Within reason,” I hedged. “If I’m going to be a part of his life, I’d like the opportunity to have a say when it comes to his education. And I plan to visit regularly.”

“School is years away.”

“Nonetheless.”

She continued to play with her grandson while appearing to make up her mind. “If I agree to adopt this child, it’ll be a lifetime commitment, and one I take very seriously. My biggest regret is losing my connection with your other children.”

“You were given the opportunity,” I reminded her.

“The price was too high,” she demurred. “Perhaps I can make it up by devoting the final decades of my life to this poor boy who’s just lost his mother and has a father who is a slave to his career.”

I didn’t bother defending himself.

Arriving at a decision, Alla asked, “How should we spin this?”

 

Purchase your copy of Torn at AMAZON or read for free with your KU subscription.