Steel Butterflies
by Elizabeth B. Splaine
Genre: YA/ Women's Historical WWII Fiction
Deadly
secrets & destructive, unintended consequences are unearthed in
this coming-of-(s)age story of an unlikely friendship between a
teenage girl and a former WWII spy.
Some
truths are best left unspoken.
.png)
Madame’s eyes took on a faraway quality.
“I have knelt only twice in my life. Once for a queen…and
once for a Nazi who held a gun to my head.”
“Alright. Enough seriousness. I promised you a story about
the first time I drove an automobile.”
The tension broken, Jean stepped forward with her medical bag
and knelt next to Madame’s wheelchair. She exchanged a relieved look with
Ebony, then went to work on Madame’s leg. Ebony felt giddy as she plopped
herself on the overstuffed pink couch, hugged a pillow, and folded her coltish
legs under her derrière. “I’m ready.”
Madame grinned. Her entire face lifted, and her eyes took on
an impish quality. “It was 1943. Stefan had been gone over a year, and my work
was now overseen by another man named Michael, a tall, handsome, young American
who gave me my code name.”
“You had a code name? That’s frickin’ cool!”
Madame pulled back a bit and tilted her head. “Excuse me?”
Ebony twisted her mouth in embarrassment. “I mean, it is kind
of cool, don’t you think?”
Madame smirked. “I suppose it is…frickin’ cool.”
Ebony laughed out loud. “Yeah, it is! What was your code
name?”
“Swallowtail.”
Ebony leaned forward. Now this was some information she could
put to good use. “So…what’s important?”
A cloud crossed Madame’s features. “I cannot answer that for
you, my dear. What is important to me may not be important to you. You are on
your own journey of discovery. I am a bold woman, but I am humble enough to
realize I have no right to dictate importance. Young people today seek
validation through others. But when you allow others to form your worth, you
don’t do the hard work of determining what’s truly important to you. You’re
cheating yourself out of integrity and losing the strength of having
convictions to live by.”
Ebony twisted her mouth in thought. Although she’d been
lectured to about qualities her generation lacked, no one had ever framed the
argument in such a forthright, honest manner. When she sifted through Madame’s
comments, she realized she didn’t want to be responsible for cheating herself
out of anything. “I’ve never thought of it that way.”
“Just as true strength is quiet, grace and dignity are found
within oneself. You will never find inner peace on a computer screen or by how
many likes you get on a post; those are hollow and don’t stand up to even a small
breeze. We have choices each day. Between right and wrong, kindness and
cruelty, faith and faithlessness. It’s what we do with our ability to choose
that defines who we are, what we stand for. So here is my question for you, my
dear Ebony. What do you stand for?”
**Also by the author in the same genre**
Swan Song
by Elizabeth B. Splaine
Genre: YA/ Women's Historical WWII Fiction
Ursula Becker's operatic star is on the rise in Nazi Berlin...until she discovers that she is one-quarter Jewish, a mischling of the second degree. Although Hitler is aware of her lineage, her popularity and exquisite voice protect her and her family from persecution. As Ursula's violin-prodigy half-sister comes of age, she comes to the attention of the Führer, who welcomes the awestruck teenager into his elite, private circle.
When William Patrick Hitler arrives in Germany and is offered employment by his doting Uncle Adolf, a chance encounter with Ursula leads to a romantic relationship that further shields the young diva from mistreatment. But for how long?
Restrictions on Hitler's perceived enemies tighten, and Ursula is ordered to sing at Hitler's Berghof estate. There she throws down a gauntlet that unleashes the wrath of the vindictive megalomaniacal leader. Fearing for her life, Ursula and Willy decide to emigrate to England. But as the ship is about to sail, Ursula disappears. Desperately hoping that Ursula is still alive, Willy crosses the globe in an effort to find her, even as his obsessive uncle taunts him, relishing in the horror of the murderous cat-and-mouse game.
.png)
Without warning
his petulant demeanor changed dramatically. Singling out Ursula, his furious
eyes burned as he repeated, “You did this. You did this.” He lunged forward and
grabbed her wrist, forced her to stand, then dragged her out of the room, down the
stairs and out into the snowy street. Ursula remained silent and ran to keep up
with his long strides as visions of being shot or hanged ran rampant through
her fertile mind. She knew better than to ask where he was taking her, and she
steeled herself for what was to come.
Each time she
stumbled he would drag her until she managed to stand again. By the time they
reached a building three blocks away from Dresden, she was out of breath and
struggling to see out of her swollen eye. Seidl slowed and walked her toward
the Eger River. As they neared the edge of the bridge that crossed the river,
Seidl stopped, stepped behind her and grabbed her shoulders. This is the end,
she thought. He’s going to shoot me and throw me in the river. She
closed her eyes and pictured Willy and Otto, allowing the wonderful images to
wash over her like the water rushing below her feet. Her trembling body calmed
as she spoke to Otto in her mind, silently saying goodbye. Willy whispered
sweetness in her ear, reminding her who she is, and urging her to maintain her
dignity and composure.
After several
moments of silence, however, Ursula realized that Seidl hadn’t drawn his
weapon. She opened her eyes and found that she was facing a building on the
other side of the bridge. The Little Fortress. He’s going to imprison me, she realized. Like Herr Abendroth,
I am to be jailed. But I will not die
today. “Resist. Survive,” Willy whispered in her ear. A euphoric relief
shuddered through her, and she sent a silent prayer upwards.
Seidl gripped her
shoulders. “Do you see that building, Fräulein?”
Before she could
answer, he shook her so hard that she was concerned her neck might break. His
lips brushed her ear. “It’s as if you want
to go there. Do you?”
Afraid to respond,
Ursula remained mute.
He whipped her
around to face him. “Do you?” he screamed in her face.
Ursula cringed and
whispered, “No.”
“Then stop
defying me! This will be your last warning!”
He shoved her away
from him and raked his fingers through his hair, upending his cap, which fell
to the snowy earth. “I don’t understand this hold you have on me!” He walked in
circles as puffy, white snowflakes settled on his dark hair. After several
moments he retrieved his cap, brushed it off, and replaced it on his head.
Abruptly he turned to her and looked suddenly sad. “You came to me with special
instructions.”
What does that
mean? she wondered.
“I shouldn’t tell
you that, lest it embolden you, but I can’t help myself. I had heard that you
were a siren, but you are not. You are so much more than that. Even now…”
Prior to writing, Elizabeth earned an AB in Psychology from Duke University and an MHA from the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill. She spent eleven years working in health care before switching careers to become a professional opera singer and voice teacher.
When not writing, Elizabeth teaches classical voice in Rhode Island where she lives with her husband, sons, and dogs.
Website * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Bookbub * Amazon
Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!
A beautiful gold butterfly bookmark,
