WeWriWa—Problem parents-in-law

Welcome back to Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday, weekly Sunday hops where writers share 8–10 sentences from a book or WIP. This week’s snippet comes right after last week’s, when Lyuba Koneva asked her husband Ivan why he doesn’t go to work for his father. In spite of Mr. Konev’s massive past sins against both of them, his underground liquor store brings in a lot of money, and bought many of their modern appliances, like a washing machine and refrigerator.

This has been slightly edited from the published version to fit ten lines.

“That’ll only happen if Prohibition’s constitutionally repealed. I was raised better than to make a dishonest living, though he was begging me to join him yet again when I visited before I came home. I said no, the factory may pay less money than I’d like, but at least it’s honest money and I don’t constantly risk legal trouble by going to work.”

Lyuba bristles. “You went over to see your mother again? Haven’t you visited her enough since you were reunited? It says right in the Bible, ‘And a man shall leave his parents and cleave unto his wife, and they shall be as one flesh,’ not ‘And a man shall pay inordinate visits to his parents’ house in his first year of marriage, while neglecting his pregnant wife in favor of his pregnant mother.’ Put the leftovers in the oven yourself. I won’t baby you the way your mother does. In this apartment, you’re treated like a grown man, not an overgrown little boy who can’t do anything without his mother.”

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Next week I’ll begin my yearly Halloween-themed snippets. They’ll be very new material, from my WIP, A Dream Deferred: Lyuba and Ivan at University, the fourth book in this saga.

WeWriWa—Acrimonious anniversary

Welcome back to Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday, weekly Sunday hops where writers share 8–10 sentences from a book or WIP. This week’s snippet comes right after last week’s, when Ivan Konev came home at 11:00 at night on his first anniversary with his wife Lyuba, whom he waited fifteen and a half years to marry since falling in love with her at age nine. He’s tried to placate her by showing her a bag of anniversary presents, and baptismal anniversary gifts for their kids.

“Both children are asleep. You’re not going to wake them so late just to give them presents. Did you know I made a special meal, assuming you’d actually be home on time on our anniversary? Goat meat, stuffed peppers, tomato soup with croutons, pelmeni stuffed with mushrooms and cheese, chocolate cake with cherry frosting and real cherries, and coffeecake with apricot filling and chocolate drizzle. The leftovers are in the refrigerator. Say what you want about your father’s job, but it’s thanks to him we were able to afford a real refrigerator and get rid of that stupid outdated icebox. We’ve got a real washing machine and modern kitchen and cooking implements thanks to him too. Why don’t you work for your father so you can finally bring in real money?”

Ivan’s father has a secret liquor store, and wants Ivan to help him with bootlegging his supply of alcohol. Lyuba worked for him briefly in the past, but Ivan put a stop to it after an incident with Russian–American mobsters.

Mr. Konev is also a former alcoholic who beat Ivan black and blue every day for years, till he got too big to push around, and raped Lyuba about ten times, always in conjunction with her own abusive father. Over the course of this book, both spouses come to regret forgiving him for committing such vile sins against them.

WeWriWa—Misplaced loyalty

Welcome back to Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday, weekly Sunday hops where writers share 8–10 sentences from a book or WIP. This week’s snippet comes right after last week’s, when Ivan Konev came home at 11:00 at night on his first anniversary with his wife Lyuba. It’s also the first anniversary of their children’s baptism, and Lyuba is heavily pregnant with a new baby they once thought they’d never have.

“Then why in the hell did you come home at eleven at night if it’s so special? Did you volunteer to stay late, or did you put on your usual act of being a mouse and not a man when that traitor Glazov asked or suggested you stay a lot later than usual? Maybe I should buy you a watch so you won’t have any excuse to lose track of time. I’ll pay extra to have the watch specially-made so the gears are on the other side.”

“He’d fire me if I walked out early. You know that. And I can’t easily find another job without the proper training, education, or experience.” He extends a bag. “I bought you some anniversary presents and presents for the kids for their first baptismal anniversary.”

Though Ivan was on track to go to university, he was expelled from his very left-wing gymnasium two months before graduation in 1917, on account of his monarchist views. Lyuba and many of their pro-Tsarist friends were also expelled. Ivan got a high school equivalency diploma shortly after arriving in America in 1921, but won’t attend university until 1948. He’s not qualified for much else but menial jobs.

WeWriWa—Trouble in paradise

Welcome back to Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday, weekly Sunday hops where writers share 8–10 sentences from a book or WIP. This week, I’m sharing the beginning of The Twelfth Time: Lyuba and Ivan on the Rocks, the sequel to my first Russian historical, which released on Thursday. It opens six months after the end of the first book.

Lyuba and Ivan may now finally be married, and expecting their second blood child together (plus Lyuba’s firstborn child Tatyana, who has no idea Ivan isn’t her blood father), but the happy ending they fought so hard for is now set on a disastrous course all over again.

Any other man would come rushing home early from work to be with his wife on their first anniversary, particularly if he’d waited fifteen and a half years to marry the love of his life. And when his first wedding anniversary also happens to be the first anniversary of his children’s baptism and chrismation, he’d consider it doubly-important to race home from work. But Ivan Ivanovich Konev has never exactly been like most men, or even most people.

Full well knowing he’s probably about to get an earful, he opens the door to their tenement on the top floor of the building.

His heavily pregnant wife, Lyubov Ilyinichna Koneva, glares at him in the dark and crosses her arms. “Do you know today is September sixth? Has the significance of that date slipped your mind?”

“Of course I remember, golubka. How could I forget such a special day?”

Lyuba’s patronymic was Leontiyevna until near the end of the first book, when she changed it to Ilyinichna in honor of her stepfather Ilya. She wanted to change it after her mother’s remarriage, but decided to kill two birds with one stone and wait till she married Ivan and became a Koneva. She took care of both name changes at once.

I now have a page with links to my author pages and books. It also has information about planned future releases, the next one of which is my super-long third Russian historical. Since it’s excessively long even by my standards, I’ll probably end up releasing it as one book in two volumes.

WeWriWa—Saying goodbye

Welcome back to Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday, weekly Sunday hops where writers share 8–10 sentences from a book or WIP. This week’s snippet comes a bit after last week’s, when 23-year-old departing soldier Yuriy suggested to his 18-year-old crush Inga that she might be a real American girl and have a returning soldier for a boyfriend by the time they meet again.

Inga said she only wanted her old family, and Yuriy tried to cheer her up by saying the pain of longing isn’t so bad as more time passes, and that after the war she could create her own family who’ll never leave her. He then holds out his hand for a farewell handshake.

“Can’t I hug you goodbye?  You deserve more than a handshake after you’ve been so nice to me.”

Yuriy smiles as he hugs her. “You’re such a sweet girl.  Just make sure not to be too sweet with the wrong kinds of people.  You have to be strong to survive in a new country.”

Inga stands at the door and watches him walking up the street, until she can’t see him anymore.  She was given a very nice friend, what some would call a guardian angel, bearing the same name as her belovèd dedushka, to get her started in America.  But he could only do so much, just as eventually a mother bird pushes a baby from the nest so it can fly.  Now it’s up to her to make good in America.