Gold of the Peasant Girl

By Alyona Crower

The harsh, unrelenting winter forces Dolja to take a rash step. Little does she know that by bringing home a basket of food, she is putting herself and her sister Rudmila in danger.
Rudmila is forced into a dangerous situation because of her sister's petty crime, and the dreaded witch Baba Yaga plots revenge against her.
The winter is cold and unforgiving, but is it the winter or the witch we should fear more?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alyona Crower
• Release date: Sep 23, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005888879

Alyona Crower

Kedves olvasó!Üdvözöllek a fantasztikus történetek világában.A regényeimet nagyrészt magyar nyelven írom, ám megpróbálkoztam angolra is lefordítani. (Hozzáteszem, csapnivaló a nyelvérzékem. Így ha esetleg az angol nyelvű verzió letöltése mellett döntesz, gondolj erre. :D )Jó olvasást kívánok neked! :)Dear reader!Welcome to the world of fantastic stories.Most of my stories are written in Hungarian, but some are also available in English.I have a terrible sense of language :D, sorry for any mistakes.I wish you a good reading!

Book preview

Copryght ©2021 by Alyona Crower

title of the short story: Gold of the peasant girl

Cover design: ©Alyona Crower

E-mail: [e-mail]

ISBN 9781005888879

All right reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, ortransmitted in any form or by any means.

Smashwords Edition

It was snowing. It has been non-stop for two weeks now. I threw the last of the twigs on the flickering fire of the stove and moved closer to him. The freezing cold crept insidiously through the cracks in the walls of the house, as if searching for its next victim. Wherever the fire's power failed to reach, my breath drew vapour into the air. I tightened my grip on my father's worn jacket, which was no use where he was.

The door swung open with a great swing, the wind whistling angrily, bringing thousands of tiny snowflakes to my feet. My sister pressed her full body weight against the battered wooden board, trying to keep the gale-force wind out of the house. I ran over and helped her bolt the door.

Thank you, Radmila, she said