A Character Interview with Kurt from KURT SEYT & SHURA plus a conversation with author Nermin Bezmen!

Today we're bringing something different to Writing in the Modern Age in the form of a character interview. These character interviews, now and in the future, should prove to be very enlightening for all of us.       
We have the pleasure of meeting Kurt, a character from Kurt Seyt & Shura. 

We'll get a chance to talk to the author, Nermin Bezmen, in a bit, but now we have on the stage...Kurt!  

Marie Lavender:  Hello, Kurt. Please have a seat. 


Character Kurt Seyit Memedovich Eminof:  Hello, Marie.

Marie:  Great to have you here! We're going to start out with some simple questions, okay? 

Kurt:  All right.

Marie:  So, what is your occupation? Are you any good at it? Do you like it?

Kurt:  My occupation? … this is not an easy question to answer… My occupation kept changing with the winds of fate just like my life has… Well, I should not blame fate for all of it though. I think my stubborn character which leads me to challenge fate and encourages me to make hasty decisions when I am disappointed or heartbroken with the outcome of my dreams, also have an impact on the different acts of my life.

I started my career as a first lieutenant of the Czar Nicholas the 2nd Private Hussars. I believe I was very good at what I was doing. They told me so and honored me with merits, medals and private gifts from the Czar. I was raised to be good at it. Not only the years I had in the Military Academy of St. Petersburg, but also my father’s disciplined before-school teachings had provided me with the best knowledge and motivation that I could have to become good not only in the military but in the struggle of any kind of niche of life. I loved my job. I loved the idea that I was following the footsteps of my father and grandfather, who were once in the same regiment being 'Guvardias' to the Czars without losing their ties with their past and being proud of their Crimean Tatar origins. Being in the elite hussars and representing the best of my Crimean Tatar genes made me so proud too. 

But then again so much water has gone under the bridge. Even as a great soldier, that bloodshed we all had to go through during the war and the Bolshevik revolution was nothing to enjoy at all. I did all I could but there was an end to it at one point. We Whites lost to the Reds. The Czar and his family massacred, aristocrats, high ranked army officers killed. From defending the country there came a time to defend my family, my home… and then to spare my loved ones from the atrocity of the Reds came my escape. And the war was not over for me yet.

This time I had a different kind of war I had to deal with in Turkey’s İstanbul, a foreign country, under the siege of English, with its already accumulated problems, dire straits and chaos. Now, I had to defend, save and struggle for my own life, and my beloved darling Shura’s. We are not just lovers any more; we are also each other’s only escapade from our harsh reality.  We are, for each other, our homeland, families, loved ones that we will never see again. We find solace and peace at each other’s being for we are one another’s past in this foreign land of foreign people. 

Now, I found a job in Pera in a laundry-mat as a delivery guy. I also arranged a job for my Shura as an ironing lady. These were not our dream jobs, as you may guess, and it feels so strange for both of us. But this was the best I could find under the circumstances. Do I like this job? No! But this is our life now. This is the best we can have. It is an honest job. We are together. Shura does not have to stand on the streets of Pera to sell flowers or clean toilets in restaurants like many other immigrant White Russian girls who are more to arrive every day.

My heart goes out for Shura when I watch her at the ironing board as her iron dances over the enormous brodaire anglais tablecloths, napkins, pillow cases… I am so sure that memory after memory flashes passes her eyes, each scene framed by the steam on the white cloth. 

As for myself, I know how strange I may look to those European and Levantine customers when I deliver packages in my Crimean Tatar kalpak, three-piece suit, starched shirt and impeccably shiny shoes, speaking either French, German, Russian and Turkish. I do not mind the delivery job that much, but I cannot stomach receiving tips. Tips were something only I gave and in bundles. But the ironic part is that we need every penny… still I cannot accept any money from anybody like this. My looks, outfit and manners save me from this torture most of the time for the customers have a hesitation to give any tip at all after one look at me. It saves me from an embarrassment but does not help our dire budget at all. I have to think something about it. I have to make our lives better and I will.

Well, for the moment, I consider it a new war zone; a new life, new adventure. It may be very hard, very tough, very disappointing. But so be it. It is my life now. It is our life. I have to make the best out of it.  We have to make the best out of it. We still have each other, still have our memories and we still have dreams. This is a whole new voyage. The more I go on, the more we go on, I will keep telling you about my new occupations, likes and dislikes…. I am so sure that this is not my final destiny yet…

Marie:  Wow! So much happened to you.


Tell us...what is your family like?

I can explain my family with one word...great! Everybody was very loving, caring, warm, very close, connected, affectionate. Even telling you about them brings warmth to my aching heart and also tears to my eyes. They seem so close and also so far away, almost like a hazy dream now. I miss them terribly…

My paternal side comes from the ruling class of a Crimean Tatar clan with vast lands that provide the best grapes for the wine making. So, my father being the Mirza of his kin had responsibilities not only towards his family but to so many others. He was well educated, well learned, righteous, fair, very loving man with great discipline and morals; loved and respected very much. He was my first and great teacher, role model and the man I looked up to. He was open to ideas and challenges but was very stubborn when it came to a matter where he drew the line. Well, now I feel like talking about myself too…It must have been the genes…

During my childhood my father was away most of the time moving alone with the Czar’s Hussars and my mom during his absence was his advocate besides being our loving, compassionate, sweet mom. I had an older sister and three younger siblings, one of them being my baby sister whom I simply adored. We could hardly wait the day my father would come back from his long military duties. Each time was a feast for all of us.  

My mom and dad were in love. They have been since the first day they had seen each other. My mom rode horses alongside my father, played the piano, managed the whole household with great efficiency and it did not matter how busy or worried she was, she was always very serene, peaceful. She looked like an angel gliding on her tiptoes, her long skirt flowing after her.

So, we were one of the happiest families on earth living in our beautiful home on the hills of Alushta, surrounded by trees hundreds of years old, evergreens, flowers overlooking the Black Sea over vineyards… not knowing what tragedies fate would bring us in the very near future…
Marie: I see. Let's try something else. 
What did your childhood home look like?
Kurt:  My main family home was a large, two story stone house with many rooms, guest quarters, a den with a great library, stables, on a hilltop of Alushta, at the end of Sadovi Ulitsa (Sadovi Street). There was a huge garden behind the iron gate. After a tree-lined path you would end up in a wide clearing; rose bushes flowered in the center of the pebble paving. Pink aloe vera blossoms flourished in carved marble planters flanking the broad marble staircase. Ivy and honeysuckle rose to the upper stories. A tall wooden front door was decorated with stained crystal panes in geometric shapes. In the gloaming of the spring day, the house and garden offered a calm respite. In the heat of summer, it was like an oasis under the shades of trees and winter and autumn provided other kinds of serenity. But whatever the season was, there was always a warm welcome in the air. At the rear of the house you could see the trees much higher that signaled the start of the forest.

I never forgot that lovely smell of my Alushta; a sedative mixture of the salty water scent from the Black Sea and the fragrance that the soft wind carries from the vineyards… nothing like it… it smelled like home… and I found it nowhere else in my whole life…

And then there were other houses; the farm house in the vineyard, the one in Tsarskoye Selo, my father took me for the first time when I was about to enter the Military Academy, another one I rented in St. Petersburg when I grew up. They were all beautiful, lovely but none was like the one in Alushta.

Marie:  It sounds like a dream!
Do you have any hobbies, Kurt? What do you enjoy doing?
Kurt:  I love horseback riding, fencing, swimming, dancing, gardening, music; both classic and folkloric, reading, cooking. 

Marie: Nice! I have to agree with most of those. Horses are beautiful creatures. And it's certainly refreshing to come across a man who can cook. ;)

Now, what is your greatest dream, Kurt? 

Kurt:  My dreams varied all my life. But nothing matters now… I learned at a very early age that just dreaming does not take you anywhere. You have to work hard for it. You have to struggle and be persuasive. But sometimes that is not enough either. There are so many other aspects to achieve your goal besides your wish, desire, strength and determination. Sometimes your fate is simply connected to someone you love, or you made a promise and this can create a great chaos on the path to your dreams. It may mean letting the loved one go free or forgetting about your dream completely.

Marie:  (Nods.) I can see where you're coming from.

Let's try a different question.  

What kind of person do you wish you could be? What is stopping you?

Kurt: I am the person I want to be, no matter what the circumstances are. My choices, decisions may sound and look stubborn, hasty, unreasonable, out of logic to some, but on the contrary I am a very self-disciplined, self-respecting person who is sure of himself and his choices.

I am always loyal to my means, to my stubborn but my very own choices. I like challenging the fates. If life is about to bring me some sour or bitter time and I feel and sense it, I take action before it does and cut to the chase with my own intention and judgement. The result may be tough, heartbreaking. It may take me down, clip my wings but does not matter. It can’t capture me, it can’t cage me. I do not complain about the consequences for they are the fruits of my own choices. So, you see, nothing stops me… even death itself… you will see…

Marie:  Well, I am impressed! ;)

So...if it's not too painful or personal, can you tell us one thing? Who was your first love?

Kurt: My first real love was Alexandra Julianovna Verjenskaya; my Shurochka. That is why my darling granddaughter Nermin and through Nermin you all know her now.

Marie: (Sighs.) I love a good love story! 




What's the most terrible thing that ever happened to you, Kurt?

Kurt:  I won’t even count now. So much terrible happened to me and to my loved ones… I do not want to grade them. It would be an insult to the rest of the terrible things.

Marie:  All right. I respect that. I'm so sorry for your losses, though. :(


Let's try another question, shall we?


What was your dream growing up? Did you achieve that dream? If so, in what ways was it not what you expected? If you never achieved that dream, why not?

Kurt:  My dreams of childhood and adolescent years were all interrupted like so many millions due to the war and the revolution. When you go through such chaotic times with turmoil, bloodshed like war, revolution, escape, immigration, struggling to make a life from the zero in foreign lands, trying to resume your identity, keep changing places leaving your loved ones behind constantly, and meantime trying to keep attached to your past because there is so much you loved there, the idea of  having a dream changes. Knowing that all dreams you have been chasing actually became “dreams” and “nightmares”, you don’t dream much for the future anymore. Daily struggle keeps you busy and instead of dreaming for the future, whenever you have a moment, you relive the past, relocating the memories of the times, of places, of the people you terribly yearn for. 

And you concentrate on doing the best to achieve whatever you are doing at the moment to help you to integrate with your new life. Nevertheless, I still have dreams but I never let my heart and soul become slaves of them. After taking refuge in İstanbul, for years I did not want to be connected to any piece of land, any house or any other real estate. Because I’ve had them all and so many of them and they are all gone. It is a very superficial indulgence; the material is…

After traumatic times like these a honorable man is left only with one main expectation from himself and that is to keep his honor and dignity no matter what. And I will do exactly that. If one day I may have a chance to immigrate again, this time to America, I think, I will have with me only what I can take away with me; my honor and dignity. 

Marie:  I see. 

Well, I want to ask you something else...

Who is your role model, Kurt?

Kurt:  My father; Mirza Mehmet Eminof. He was my mentor and role model. I also resemble him in so many ways. If it was not the case, maybe one of us would stop being stubborn and so damn proud and not let our great relation take the tragic shape the way it did. Who knows? It is too late to talk about it now. But one thing is for sure, that unfortunate and irreversible incident stamped our lives with great resentment till the day we died; missing and yearning for each other…

Marie:  So, is there someone you pretend to like but really dislike?

Kurt:  It becomes very obvious if I like a person or not. There is no hiding on my side.

Marie:  (Smiles.) Well, I appreciate your candor.

What is your deepest desire?

Kurt:  By the time it was obvious that there was no going back to my Crimea, Russia, to reunite with my motherland, with my family was my desire. Now, it is not even a dream anymore. It is just a very hurting, tormenting past tense.

Marie:  Let's try another question.

What is your greatest fear, Kurt?

Kurt:  I do not fear anything but one: not being able to support and safeguard the ones that I love and those who depend on me.

Marie: I can certainly understand where you're coming from. I think we all worry about those we love, and protecting them is foremost in our minds, though we can't affect everything.

Well, it looks like we're running out of time, Kurt. Thank you for visiting us today.

I thank you, for giving me the chance to come back from my time. I would never think of making such a voyage. This does not happen very often. You know? It is ironic but all the sad and tragic times that I talked about…they do not hurt as much as they did before. Maybe because I am able to share them…as they say, “Sharing makes happiness be more and grief be less.” Thank you again. 
My pleasure! It was so interesting getting to know you.  (Waves at her guest as he heads off the stage.) Now, let's shift over and get the author's perspective.  We have Nermin Bezmen on the stage today! 


Hi, Nermin!

Author Nermin Bezmen:  Hello! Glad to be here!   



Marie:  (Smiles.) Welcome back to Writing in the Modern Age!

So, we just got to talk to a male character from your story...Kurt. Quite an interesting character. Can you tell us a little about him?
Kurt Seyt Eminof is the first son of a wealthy Crimean nobleman, a dashing first lieutenant in the Imperial Life Guard of the last Russian Czar Nicholas II. Injured on the Carpathian front and later sought by the Bolsheviks, he makes a daring escape across the Black Sea. Too proud to accept payment for the boatful of arms he hands over to the Nationalists, he faces years of struggle to make a new life in the Turkish Republic rising from the embers of the dying Ottoman Empire. All he has is his dignity and love.


Shura (Alexandra Julianovna Verjenskaya) is an innocent sixteen-year old beauty, enchanted by Tchaikovsky’s music and Moscow’s glittering lights, who falls in love with Seyt. A potential victim of the Bolsheviks due to her family’s wealth and social standing, she is determined to follow her heart and accompanies Seyt on his perilious flight over the Black Sea. 

Their love is the only solace to their crushing homesickness for a land and family they will never see again, two lovers among hundreds of thousands of White Russian émigrés trying to eke out a living in occupied İstanbul.

Marie:  Hmm...that's unfortunate situation. :( 

What are your character's greatest strengths?
Nermin:  Before revolution: Seyit’s strength besides his brave character comes from his family, his title, wealth, education, and his military position. Shura, on the other hand, is protected by her wealthy, aristocrat family, being pampered as the youngest of her five siblings.

After revolution they both lose all the physical and emotional touch they had with their families, motherland, wealth, titles and what strength remains is only their love and the desire to survive in a foreign country.

Marie:  Survival is definitely a test of character!

So, what are his greatest weaknesses?

Nermin:  His pride… Her naiveté.

Marie:  I see...
And what are some of Kurt's favorite foods?

Nermin:  Karski, kievski, caviar, çibörek.

Marie:  (Chuckles.) I'm not sure what three of those are, but they must be good! 
What's a positive quality that your character is unaware he or she has?

Nermin:  Both Kurt Seyit and Shura went through so much tragedy and had to endure so many hard times that there was not a quality left hidden in them. They had to bring out and use them all to survive.

Marie:  I understand.

So, will readers like or dislike this character, and why?

Nermin:  It depends on how deeply they will read the psychology behind every action, every decision. While we are sitting in our cozy, warm rooms, cuddled up on a soft sofa it is very easy to judge the characters in the book. One should just dive into the pages and start following the characters on their pathways and feel not only love but also pain, heartache, bloodshed, atrocity, yearning, struggling that they went through and had to endure.

Marie:  Okay.

Well, now that we have a real taste of Kurt, we have a few questions for you as well as the author.

What first gave you the idea for Kurt Seyt & Shura?

Nermin:  Kurt Seyit is no stranger to me. He is my grandfather. I grew up listening to his adventures and for me he was Prince Charming and nobody wrote his story. My grandma kept telling me about him and his life each year with more details while I was growing up. And Shura was the most important character of that narration. 

Years later, when I decided to write about my grandpa and grandma, starting with the second chapter, Shura was in my life and then I grew such a great admiration and love for this special woman that I decided this first novel would be of Kurt Seyt and Shura and then the second one of Kurt Seyt and Murka (my grandmother). I believed these two very different but great women each deserved a book with their own name on it.

Marie:  Awesome! Isn't it interesting how our books evolve? ;)

So, what is your writing style like, Nermin? Are you a pantster or plotter?

Nermin:  I don’t draw lines for my writing. If I am writing a true story, a true character, it has its own demands and if I am writing a fiction novel, then it’s different. 

I generally start writing in my mind with a feeling of “love at first sight” for either a character, or a place, or even a dream. I immediately have the name and the first sentence of the novel that very moment. If it is going to be based on a true story, then comes the deep research which is very challenging not just because you keep deciphering a great puzzle but you also have to know when to stop the research and start writing. A thorough research can lead the writer to other stories, too. 

Psychology of the characters is very important for me. I work on the psyche of each character like I am sewing a tailored dress made to order, one of a kind dress for them.  It is the psyche of the person what makes him/her converse, decide, feel, love, hate the way he/she does. It is the core of the novel. After I am happy with the details, I have to start writing… if it is fiction, after the few chapters my characters, mostly my hero/heroine tells me what kind of life they want, who they want to choose as a friend or a lover, where they want to travel, et cetera. So even fiction becomes real for me.

Marie:  I know what you mean...

Well, I'm throwing this one in for our aspiring writers.

Did you come across any specific challenges in writing Kurt Seyt & Shura, or getting it published? What would you do differently next time?

Nermin:  It was twenty-five years ago that Kurt Seyt & Shura was published in my motherland, Turkey. After taking the book to many publishers and being put in line to be reviewed for a year if not rejected, I was so frustrated. I had already spent four years on very painstaking research, and one more to write it. It was not only years that I put into this novel, it was my heart, soul and many tears. Seeing my disappointment, my dear late husband decided to self-publish it. And on the first week in the book stores it was a best-seller. After that, the rest of the Kurt Seyit saga followed and many more, which made it to the top of the charts. 

Now, after twenty-five years, here we are. This time in the United States, and again meeting with our readers with a self-published Kurt Seyt & Shura. Funny? Yes, now it sounds funny, but again I had such heartbreaking times. Kurt Seyt & Shura,  having been translated to eleven other languages and adapted into a T.V. series, and touching the hearts of millions all over the world, still got rejection from literary agents. And you know, in America you cannot reach a publisher if you do not have an agent. So, I decided to go ahead with self-publishing. But my wish would not have come true in such a short time with this accuracy if my darling daughter Pamira did not take the burden of preparing, coordinating, launching the book. She has done wonders and I can’t thank her enough for what she has achieved. She practically left her own business that is photography, aside and has been dealing with publishing matters for me. And my darling son Pamir Cazım, who has done the cover designs for most of my novels with great perfectionism, now contributed his masterful skill again. Cover has to give the feeling of the interior. He made it happen so beautifully. Dear Feyza Howell’s translation was another exciting process. She is a great translator working on every detail as if she is going to write the book herself. 

Create Space editors also did a great job. They worked very meticulously. Since this was the first self-publishing for us here in the United States, we learned a lot during the process. I am sure next time it will be much easier.

I hope that I will be able to touch the hearts of the American readers with Kurt Seyt & Shura like I have done in so many other countries.
Marie: I'm sure you will!

It was such a pleasure having you on Writing in the Modern Age, Nermin. We hope you can come back sometime soon!

Nermin:  Thank you for giving me a chance to meet literature lovers on your page.
Marie:  Of course! :)

Readers, here is the blurb for Kurt Seyt & Shura.


An instant bestseller since its début in 1992, Nermin Bezmen’s Kurt Seyt & Shura is a classic of contemporary Turkish literature, a sweeping romantic drama set as the splendour of imperial Russia is obliterated in the wake of the Great War.
Bezmen tells the story of two star-crossed lovers fleeing the wave of devastation wreaked by the Bolshevik Revolution, and does so with great sensitivity: one half of this couple who sought refuge in the capital of the dying Ottoman Empire was her grandfather.
​Translated into twelve languages, Bezmen’s Kurt Seyt & Shura inspired a sumptuous TV series that continues to enchant millions of viewers across the world. With the publication of this novel in English, fans can finally read the true story of this great love affair that triumphed over so much adversity, yet failed to overcome human fallibility.

​In 2012, the prestigious Turkish production company Ay Yapim offered to turn the novel into a television series. The producers pulled together an A Team of cast, crew, and director, who in turn created the acclaimed TV series “Kurt Seyit ve Sura”, with Nermin Bezmen’s guidance as a consultant and Ece Yorenc as script writer. The leading roles were played by the talented (and ahem, may we add also gorgeous) duo Kivanc Tatlitug and Farah Zeynep Abdullah. After its initial viewing in Turkey, the series was distributed in many countries, including the United States, where it is currently shown on Netflix. The production reached millions of viewers across the world and stole the hearts of many, creating new excitement and awe around the life story of the two lovers, about 100 years after their first kiss.

The books in the saga include:

  • Kurt Seyt & Shura
  • Kurt Seyt & Murka
  • Mengene Gocmenleri
  • Shura Paris Years 1924-1927
Main heroes:

Kurt Seyt:

The son of a wealthy Crimean nobleman is a dashing First Lieutenant in the Imperial Life Guard. Injured on the Carpathian Front and later sought by the Bolsheviks, he makes a daring escape across the Black Sea.

​Too proud to accept payment for the boatful of arms he hands over to the Nationalists, he faces years of struggle to make a new life in the Turkish Republic rising from the embers of the dying Ottoman Empire. All he has is his dignity and love.


The innocent beauty enchanted by Tchaikovsky’s music and Moscow’s glittering lights falls in love with Seyit at the age of sixteen. A potential victim in the sights of the Bolsheviks due to her family’s wealth and social standing, and determined to follow her heart, she accompanies her Seyt on the perilous flight over the Black Sea.

​Their love is the only solace to the crushing homesickness for a land and family they will never see again, two lovers amongst hundreds of thousands of White Russian émigrés trying to eke out a living in occupied Istanbul.

Here is an excerpt from the book.
A Night in Petrograd, 1916
Snow fell in fat, lazy flakes, an immaculate white blanket settling over the sleeping city. The carriage turning left at Alexander Nevsky Square laboriously carved a wide arc through the snow that had piled up all night, rounded a corner, and drew up to the pavement outside a three-story house.
A few snowflakes fluttered at the windowsills, stuck to the panes and frozen solid. The coachman gazed upward as instructed; a net curtain parted, and a shaft of light beamed out. A male figure wiped the glass, waved, and withdrew.

* * *
The young man consulted the pocket watch he’d left by the lamp on the bedside table: it was coming up to four; he still had plenty of time. Carefully, so as to avoid rousing the sleeping woman, he lifted the duvet and got back into bed. He reclined against the pillow, still holding his watch. Then, a little more determined, he flung aside the covers and got up. He drew the curtain back a little more and looked out. The moon illuminated the whiteness starting directly outside the windowpanes, sweeping unbroken over the garden, the railing, and the broad expanse of road. A world in white. Everything sparkled when the moon shone between the scudding clouds, and the world looked more splendid under this white coat.
Heavy curtains kept the world outside the windows, where it belonged. In the semidarkness, the room spoke in scents: perfume revealed a woman’s presence, and vodka testified to earlier indulgences, both mingling with the lavender emanating from the bed linens.
He turned toward the bed for a look. Amplified by the snow, the moonlight cast a bright-white light on the sleeping woman’s bare back. He recalled what the darkness sought to conceal: the deep auburn of her hair, now cascading over the pillow in waves; the groove of her spine dipping delightfully from the nape all the way to her waist and vanishing under the covers; and the right shoulder glowing in the playful light, a flawless expanse of alabaster.
Seemingly oblivious to the cold, he leaned his bare back against the window; then, grinning at the memory, he moved to the round table by the fireplace. The fruit platter, carafe, and glasses still stood where they had been left: half eaten and half drunk from. She was an impatient one, that Katya. Or was it Lydia? Whatever. The auburn beauty had excelled at entertaining him that night.
He picked up one of the half-full crystal glasses, downed it in one go, and shook his head as the alcohol stung his throat. He lit the pink opaline lamp in front of the mirror, and the soft light of gas spread into the room. Digging into the jumble of garments on the sofa, he gathered his own clothing and collected his underwear. He was moving toward the bathroom when the woman spoke sleepily.
“Why so early, darling?”
He strode toward her, still carrying his clothes. She stirred, rounded shoulders and full breasts braving the cold, her face now more distinct. Sweeping her hair up with one arm, she reached out with the other. He stared with barely disguised lust; the charming armpit thus exposed looked as arousing as the ample breasts bathed in the pink light. The sleepy gaze was not necessarily reserved for this time of night: she had proven her expertise in seduction with those large dark eyes framed by long eyelashes, eyes that spoke of the bedroom, of the pleasures of the flesh. Full lips pouting in anticipation, she waited, eyes shut, arm still outstretched. Smiling at her unrestrained behavior and ravenous appetite, he sat down on the edge of the bed. Her provocative scent mingled with the bedclothes, fragrant from passionate hours.
He yielded to the invitation of the arms wrapped around his neck. Languid eyes smoldered into his as she tugged away the bedclothes separating them to free her warm, buxom figure and snuggle up to him. She stroked his back and the muscles in his arms, pressed his head against her breasts, and presented her nipples to his lips. Effectively captured by her skillful limbs—surprising on such a petite woman—he enjoyed a lingering kiss before drawing back.
“It’s time I got ready. You might like to get up too; I’ll have you dropped off.”
She pouted with a half shrug. “Couldn’t we stay just a little longer?”
“I need to set off.”
“Where to?”
“When will you be back? Will you call upon me again?” She stirred as if to get up during this barrage, hoping to tempt him to change his mind.
All she got in response, however, was a jaunty smile and a pinch on the cheek before he walked toward the bathroom. He mused as he washed; he couldn’t remember her name—just another one-night stand. Someone he had met at a wild party where the drink had flowed like water…and they had left together. She was no petty commoner, if the splendor of her dress and jewelry was anything to go by. In all likelihood, she’d arrived on someone else’s arm—probably the man who’d paid for that splendor.
As he shaved, his thoughts strayed to the journey ahead. Best to get a move on, given he had arranged to meet the others at the station in an hour.
By the time he’d returned to the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, she was already dressed. He patted his cheeks and neck with lotion from a bottle on the console. “Wouldn’t you like to take a bath?”
“I never take a bath on my own,” came the flirtatious reply.
An irrepressible grin lit up his face as he combed his hair, thinking, Her husband—or lover, whoever it was—certainly has his work cut out. He dressed, ignoring his audience, who sat on the edge of the bed to admire the view.
Muscular and fit, the young man in his early twenties carried himself with an aristocratic posture and demeanor. His moustache and floppy fringe were chestnut. A cleft chin seemed to complete his striking looks: flashing dark-blue eyes, a straight nose, and a perpetually sardonic mouth.
The redhead patted her curls back into place and sighed. Her questions were destined to remain unasked as the young man, now in full uniform and boots, strode between wardrobe and dresser, clearly lost in his own thoughts. He picked up several items from drawers, and some books went into a suitcase. She watched, astonished that he appeared to have forgotten the many wonderful hours they had shared in bed. Her wiles had failed to hook him. She leaned back with another sigh.
Taking a ring from a box by the mirror, he placed it on his finger and then put a watch in his pocket. She remembered openly admiring them last night—she adored jewelry after all, and he’d said the sapphire-and-diamond ring was a family heirloom. The enameled gold watch adorned with rubies was a gift from Tsar Nicholas II, he’d told her.
Soon they were ready to leave. A muffled clatter rose from the street. The second carriage had arrived. He picked up his coat and hat. “All right, let’s go,” he said. “I’ll have you taken home.”
He extinguished the lamp and walked to the door. She followed, surprised and not a little disconcerted at the absence of one last kiss or a plea for another meeting, as if there had been nothing between them.
The coachmen leaped down and ran over the snow. The young man turned to his guest, took her hand, and said, “Aktem will drop you off. Fare thee well, my lovely.” Her name wasn’t even on the tip of his tongue.
“Will we meet again?” she tried one last time.
“Why not?”
Happier now, she presented her cheek for a kiss, unbothered by the coachmen’s presence. Finally, gathering her courage, and with a bashful smile, she asked the one question that had plagued her all this time. “Tell me your name again?”
His merry laughter rang in the snowy street’s early morning silence. So the night had not been that memorable for either of them! Except for the ending, that is. He bowed, as if they had just met, and enunciated deliberately: “First Lieutenant Seyit Memedovich Eminof.”

* * *
 As the two carriages drove away in opposite directions, the auburn beauty who had sweetened his night was already slipping from his mind.

Purchase Links:


Universal Amazon:  https://bookgoodies.com/a/B078T3WPNY

Website:  https://www.kurtseytandshura.com/product-page/kurt-seyt-shura-kindle-e-book-english

(For International Shipping): https://www.kurtseytandshura.com/buy-kurt-seyt-shura-english-book

What People Are Saying About Kurt Seyt & Shura



"This is a wonderful book about love, tragedy, war, and how lives unfold in a real setting. Historically the story brings out facts about the Russian revolution that are not taught in history books. You get a view of how it was for people suffering through exile. As a love story, the wonders and tragedies are amazing in how you really feel the emotions and see how lives are changed, but love is not.
After finding out this is a true story and the amazing way in which it was complied, my vote would be more than 5 stars. Read this Book


This books sounds intriguing! Readers, don't forget to pick up a copy of Nermin Bezmen's historical romance, Kurt Seyt & Shura! :)  


About Nermin Bezmen:

Nermin Bezmen is an accomplished artist, art teacher, yoga instructor and broadcaster whose meticulous research into family history led to the publication of Kurt Seyt & Shura in 1992.
This fictionalized account of her grandfather’s life became an instant bestseller, and is now considered to be a masterpiece of contemporary Turkish literature to the extent that it has reached textbook status in several secondary schools and universities.
Exquisite detail distinguishes her writing as she proves that truth is indeed stranger than fiction, and that our ancestors call out to us all from the pages of history.
Her powerful character analysis and storytelling skills invite the readers to explore their own dreams, sorrows, anxieties and even fleeting fancies.
Bezmen has to date published fifteen novels, two of which are biographical, and one is a fantasy; a children’s novel, a collection of forty short stories and a book of poems. She has two children and three grandchildren and lives with her husband, actor Tolga Savacı in New Jersey and Istanbul.

Author Links:

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/KurtSeytandShuraEnglish/
Twitter:  https://twitter.com/nbezmen1
Amazon Author Page:  http://amzn.to/2Ao8jjr
Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1259947.Nermin_Bezmen
Newsletter:  https://www.kurtseytandshura.com/sign-up

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