Power is the ULTIMATE HIGH. Civil war looms in the House of Romanov, as members of the royal family speak freely of a regime change. Only a young prince wounded by the war and a ballerina past her prime can stop the upcoming bloodshed. But even they may be too late... CRIMSON SNOW reigns supreme as it welcomes its readers to witness the last act of the death of a dynasty. AUTHOR NOTE: Worthy Reader! Why did I write Crimson Snow? Blame my Mother. She worked as a housekeeper for a wealthy but aging socialite who possessed a striking resemblance to the late Grace Kelley. Her name was Marilyn Obolensky but I called her Mrs. O. To me, Mrs. O always reminded me of the sad Miss Havisham figure out of Charles Dickens' Great Expectations. Jilted by time and a lost love, the widow passed her days in her grand but decaying Grosse Pointe Farm home gazing up at a life-size portrait of her dead husband. He was a Russian noble named Prince Serge Obolensky. Prince Serge wore his imperial Russian uniform well; tall, pencil-thin, he radiated such confidence. Seeing it, I often asked myself what went so wrong in Russia that poor old Serge ended up in a room full of dust. The answer is Crimson Snow.