Find more from this author on:
About the author:
My name is Silvi Stamen and I have considered writing this book for more than 10 years. I am an academic writer, translator and avid cat-lover. This is my debut novel and I hope that readers will like it.
What inspired you to write your book?
Covid-19 pandemic made me isolated at a mountain villa with my husband and our three black cats. So, I decided to start writing and three months later the first manuscript was ready
Here is a short sample from the book:
Did she want to see him? Why should they do it?- she wondered. The thought of meeting him made her happy; no, this was not the right word; it excited her and filled her with enthusiasm. Yes, I want – was her short answer.
She was not the best girlfriend, as instead of refusing him and reserving time for meetings with the boy from England, she gladly accepted Jordan's invitation. After all this, it was clear that something new was about to happen. Alas, her long-distance relationship had been going on for three years, even though her meetings with Kosta happened solely when he was in Bulgaria. She knew she could count on him, for help, for understanding, that is for almost anything. They spoke on Skype nearly every night, and she had told him about her sea adventure. Of course, she had spared him a few minor details. Still, Kosta had hinted to her several times with a stormy expression that he was familiar with everything that usually happened on the Bulgarian Black Sea coast.
The sun had moved behind the green boxwood, sending broad rays at a slight angle through its branches and straight into her eyes. She had to put on her sunglasses and leave her workplace. There was not much to be done that night, so she decided to walk to the Palace and enjoy its beautiful gardens overlooking the sea.
Smelling the sea breeze long before she reached the beach promenade, she slipped off her work shoes and left them in her bag, then put on comfortable ones explicitly designed for long walks on the cobblestones.
It is time to go back to the Palace, she told herself and walked faster down the alley. In about half an hour, she was at the main entrance with the watchtower. She could not wait to see the alleys, gardens and bridges of the Palace again. When she reached the garden of Allah, she looked in the water mirror; water poured into it through the stone wall that seemed to divide the garden in two.
On the way to the sea, there was a fading silhouette of a building that looked like it was perched at the end of a cliff, staring at the blue sea. It was a villa, and there was a gallery on the first floor. She had to go in and examine its interior. There were photographs representing Balchik and the Palace. From the information on them, Prince Nicolas and Queen Maria's youngest daughter, Princess Ileana, had lived in the building at different times.
The place was full of history, even though it was not easy to read some of the inscriptions. She began to wonder why she knew so little about this place.
She left the building, heading for the sea terraces. Sylvia approached the beautiful waterfall. It was pretty tall, and there was a lot of greenery and colourful plants surrounding it. The purple, yellow and pink colours merged with the already calm water in the stone pool. This place was unique. Cautiously, not at all sure that she wanted to imagine everything that had happened here in the past, Sylvia opened her imagination. Everything in this place said that it was made for artists.
Who were Maria's carefully chosen guests? A wide arch led her into a garden with all-white flowers that looked like no other in the Palace. This place had represented an inspiration for a significant number of works. The love meetings in each of these secluded places have undoubtedly inspired them, Sylvia told herself. As night fell, it was a realm of love.
She sat on the throne. Yes, she wanted to sit on it and watch the sea. It was positioned in such a manner to provide further visibility. It was as if Maria had been waiting for her beloved to return. Sylvia reached for her purse and pulled out her mobile, which had a new message on it.
Letters were paper then, she told herself. Now, it is all on the mobile. One does not feel the touch of the paper, the smell of the ink, but they carry the same messages.
Sylvia pressed her fingers to her lips when she saw the message. "I will be waiting for you at our place tomorrow at five." She leaned against the marble throne as she examined it and felt a multitude of emotions – the joy and excitement continued to rise in her, mixed with a sense of futility. The meeting was about to happen.