This post is part of the November 2011 Blog Chain at Absolute Write. This month’s challenge is a back cover blurb from a book you have written or would like to write.

The early 1980’s: the depths of the Cold War. The Soviet Union has never been stronger.

Yet there are cracks in its monolithic facade in the form of a group of young anti-nuclear activists. Roman Korovin: the brains, a dedicated revolutionary with very personal reasons for acting against the “demon atom.” Mirya Meloa: the beauty, a deadly fighter and skilled propagandist inflamed with passion for the cause. Vasily Albanov: the brawn, and ex-KGB forger with a penchant for bad jokes. Together, they seek to create a Soviet utopia free of nuclear power…through sabotage.

But when a mission goes awry the three find the full resources of the Soviet state arrayed against them, from an aging despotic general secretary to a ruthlessly efficient KGB major. When one of the revolutionaries inexplicably goes wild and begins cutting a bloody path to the heart of the regime’s terrible secrets, the activists are caught up in an unfolding plot which threatens not only the survival of their country but the future of the human race. The stage is set for a confrontation that will shake the state to its foundations.

“Tunguska Butterfly” is a tale of the Weird East, mixing a dash of real history with intrigue and science fiction in an adventure that stretches from the dreary heart of the USSR to the poisoned steppes of Central Asia.

Check out this month’s other bloggers, all of whom have posted or will post their own responses:
Ralph Pines
Jarrah Dale
dolores haze



The helicopter bucked and dipped in the volcanic wind. “We’ll be torn apart!” Jesse cried.

“Lower, damn you!” Lowell slipped out of his harness and into the cargo hold, sliding the door open.

He could see her on the low slope below, lit intermittently as lightning arced from the dark clouds overhead.

“Anne!” he cried.

She shouldn’t have been able to hear him over the whirring blades or the death throes of Kjeho’s peak. But Anne looked up, her soot-streaked face breaking into a frightened smile.

Lowell was down on his stomach, hand outstretched, as Jesse brought the chopper as low as it could go without landing.

For a moment, Anne seemed torn, as if she were considering leaving herself to die rather than take Lowell’s proffered arm. Then her hand was around his wrist, and they were airborne.

Seconds later, the ground collapsed as the side of Kjeho blew out, rushing toward the sea in a massive pyroclastic flow.

“Hang on!” cried Lowell, as Anne dangled from his grasp over a scene of unparalleled devastation.