Island of Fluttering Butterflies Natalya Andreeva

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Title: Island of Flying Butterflies

About the book “The Island of Fluttering Butterflies” Natalya Andreeva

The famous Russian writer Natalya Andreeva once said that she could even make a detective story out of Turgenev’s novel “Fathers and Sons.” And this is true - the writer, of course, succeeds in books of the detective genre. Another confirmation of this is the author’s new bestseller “The Island of Fluttering Butterflies.”

Have you ever heard of people who are doing well? I mean, absolutely everything. There is enough money, business, health and youth. There is a family - a beloved, well almost beloved, husband. They decided to wait with the children - they needed to live for themselves. Now it has become so fashionable to live for yourself. That's the whole family - Evgenia Borisovna and her husband. He is handsome, smart, and spends a lot of time in the gym. And to look away at others, this has never happened. However, this is not surprising - the husband has long forgotten how to earn money. The wife is both the drinker and the breadwinner in their small family. Is he a fool to cheat on her? There are as many such men as you like, but try to find such a wife! Does her husband love her? He says he loves him. And in fact he loves, only this is who - her or her money. The question is still unanswered.

In general, E.B. has everything. Yes, yes, that’s what her colleagues call the main character, not very nicely and not at all feminine. Well, okay - this is not the worst thing that can happen in life. If the deal breaks down, yes. You say that you need to fly to Thailand - this is not the first time. An ordinary business trip, of course, the main character of Natalya Andreeva’s novel “The Island of Flying Butterflies” does not take her husband on such trips. Everything is as usual – meetings, negotiations. But he is unusual and so attractive. At some point, Zhenya loses her head. She no longer wants to be a businesswoman and forgets about her husband. She just wants to become a loved and loving woman. And so it happened that an ordinary business trip ended in a completely unusual romance.

But this novel has unpleasant consequences. The business trip ended, and with it the reputation of a business person disappeared. Ahead lies retribution for short-sighted behavior, and, possibly, the collapse of one’s reputation and career. Will the main character of the bestseller be able to resist fate, will she accept defeat? The reader will have to find out the answer to this and other questions for himself by reading Natalya Andreeva’s book “The Island of Fluttering Butterflies.”

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Natalya Vyacheslavovna Andreeva

Island of Fluttering Butterflies

– Money is not a question.

– What amount do you expect? – she asked insinuatingly, casting a critical glance at his, frankly, shabby sweatshirt and mud-stained boots.

And what do you want? After this, you won’t be able to drive a car right away. Inserting the key into the ignition, he again involuntarily remembers how he flew into a ditch. And he feels a burning flame on his cheeks. But nothing is over yet. Yes, his hands are still shaking, just put them on the steering wheel! That's why I came here on foot.

- Yeah, I don’t look presentable today. “He gave the girl his best smile.” – But this will not affect the amount that I am ready to pay for the tour. If only I could leave right now. And further away. I want to go where it's summer.

– Then go to the Maldives! – the girl manager, a platinum blonde, immediately perked up. Pretty: about twenty-five, dazzling white hair, tanned face and plump lips. Almost a model. Almost, because he hangs out in this tiny office in the winter, and does not measure the podium with his slender legs, waiting for a private plane to distant exotic islands. Apparently there is some kind of flaw in it or just bad luck. – There is a great option for you: a boutique hotel. Villa on the water, personal butler, all inclusive,” she jabbered, continuously clicking her mouse.

“I’ll die of boredom there,” he winced. “You see, I need female company.” “I’m going alone,” he hinted. – I can roughly imagine the contingent there. Families with children and couples. Will you order me to invite my nurse shark to a romantic dinner? But there is also a continuation to be had. You see, I don’t like to sleep alone.

– If you are interested in a sex tour...

“Girl, I can handle this myself somehow,” he interrupted. – It’s not a problem for me to glue a woman together. If only they were there in principle, free women.

She clicked her mouse angrily and said dryly:

– There are no problems with this in Thailand. There are a lot of massage parlors there. And there are enough of our compatriots. Freely available, as you like,” the platinum girl said ironically.

- Let's! – he perked up.

- I'm afraid there is nothing. It's high season now. Everything has been sold out since the fall.

– Are you kidding me?! I said: any money! I urgently need to leave.

“There is one option,” she clicked the mouse a couple of times. - But the price...

- How many?

– Grand villa in a luxury hotel...

– I asked: how much?

- Fifteen thousand dollars. For the price of the Maldives,” she stubbornly insisted. – There is a good option, and for the Maldives it’s generally very inexpensive.

It’s clear that she wants to sell the client elite loneliness and exclusive melancholy, which you can’t even drink with whiskey, because it’s in limited access, just like free women. You can’t buy it in stores, there are basically none there on the island, and bartenders, even with the all-inclusive system, after the third glass, start looking askance and shamelessly pouring ice into the glass. Muslim country, motherfucker! What is a bottle of whiskey for a Russian man? So, while away the evening. Why are there such difficulties every time? At customs, upon entry, all alcohol is taken away. And in the hotel a butler is following you on your heels. Worse than a nanny, because the curiosity of the natives is off the charts. And where can you hide from this exclusive attention on a tiny island? Fuck it...

– ...all-inclusive system, local drinks...

Is she kidding me or what? Where do they grow them, I wonder, these locally produced drinks? Probably on palm trees, along with coconuts.

“Let’s go a little to the left of the equator,” he interrupted. - Closer to pleasure.

– Will Phuket Island suit you? The best beach, the best view from the veranda of the sea. One of the best hotels. But I repeat: very expensive.

– Are you ready to pay fifteen thousand dollars for a trip to Thailand? – she asked doubtfully. And she emphasized: “For one?”

- I can afford it.

- This is for breakfast.

- Not in the desert. Are there any decent restaurants there?

- As many as you like! Here in the same hotel...” She clicked the mouse again. – Right on the rocks, overlooking the bay. By the way, your grand villa is also located on the very shore. That's why the price is like that.

- Show me the photos.

She turned the monitor towards him:

- Here, look. Beautiful, right?

- Design it!

“Give me your passport,” the girl looked at him with respect.

Handsome, and also a millionaire! She automatically straightened her hair.

“Honey, you’re not my type,” he thought mockingly. - Now I know what I need. My case is special. But the time has apparently come. The next time I die (which won't be long), I want to have something to remember. That's why I need a special woman. Not you. And I need an entourage.”

He took another look at the bright photograph with pleasure. Not a little room in an anthill, where you can hear your neighbor draining the water, taking a small nap, and his wife moaning protractedly, feigning an orgasm. And not a bungalow, with curious staff trying to look into the windows, but tourists scurrying along the paths, almost looking into the mouths of those sitting on the terrace, exploring the area to see “where is it better?” VILLA! And even GRAND!

And no one will hear anything... And no one will see... Although there will be something to look at...

Her: two weeks before departure

– Evgenia Borisovna, are you going to St. Petersburg by plane or by train?

- By train. The weather is not good, I don’t want to sit at the airport for half a day. Get me a ticket for Sapsan.

- In business class?

- Well, of course!

She looked at the secretary with displeasure. How do you think the general director of a development company as part of a thriving investment holding should get to his St. Petersburg partners? In a common carriage, or what? Or riding on a stick?

This is the only way Evgenia Borisovna Anisina travels around the world: on private planes, or at most in business class, and not with some Ust-Khryupinsk Airlines. Only regular flight, well-promoted brand. Fly with Aeroflot planes! If you want to show patriotism. Better yet, Emirates.

– Which hotel should you book?

Here we go again! What a stupid girl!

- “Europe”, of course! Lena, you surprise me! What's wrong with you today?!

“Sorry, Evgenia Borisovna,” the girl’s lips trembled. - I... I have...

“No one is interested in your personal problems,” she said dryly. – Emotions must be left outside the threshold of this office.

Natalya Andreeva with the novel The Island of Fluttering Butterflies for download in fb2 format.

Her subordinates call her EB behind her back... It’s rude and unfeminine. Evgenia Borisovna is a businesswoman. A good position, a luxury car, the opportunity to relax at the best resorts... And a husband: helpful, well-groomed and loving. No, really, there is pleasure from this love and from sex with him too, but what can you do... many women live like this. One day, a serious deal falls through, and while the proceedings are underway, Evgenia is forced to fly to Thailand.
There a man appears in EB’s life and she loses her head.
Everything is so passionate and romantic that you want to kill the businesswoman in yourself and be just a WOMAN!
But the hot vacation is left behind, and ahead is retribution for frivolity and... the collapse of one’s reputation and career.
Will she be able to come to terms with this?!

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Today, a large amount of electronic literature is available on the Internet. The publication The Island of Fluttering Butterflies is dated 2015, belongs to the “Detective” genre in the “Bestsellers by Natalia Andreeva” series and is published by AST publishing house. Perhaps the book has not yet entered the Russian market or has not appeared in electronic format. Don’t be upset: just wait, and it will definitely appear on UnitLib in fb2 format, but in the meantime you can download and read other books online. Read and enjoy educational literature with us. Free downloading in formats (fb2, epub, txt, pdf) allows you to download books directly into an e-reader. Remember, if you really liked the novel, save it to your wall on a social network, let your friends see it too!

Island of Fluttering Butterflies

Him: the day before departure

He didn’t even immediately realize that they were shooting at the car. They can't. Should not. That doesn't happen at all. They are his friends! Friends don't act like that!

He was tempted to stop and ask:

- Guys, this is some kind of joke, right? Funny. And it worked! I almost believed it! They laughed and ran away. I am silent and you are silent.

Or not: squeeze everything out of the car that it is capable of, break away from them and forget it like a bad dream.

Moreover, they have already begun to lag behind. Still would! Once upon a time he was a good racing driver, and if he had happened to be born in another place and at another time, and his youth would have occurred in the notorious noughties, when every risky man could achieve his goal if he went ahead, the devil knows! Would you race in Formula 1 now? Grand Prix of Monaco, Grand Prix of Monte Carlo...

My soul felt so sweet... It was as if it had been filled to the brim with champagne, and magical bubbles began to rise, making my head feel light, very light, simply weightless. Hands involuntarily stroked the steering wheel: calm down, my sweet girl, calm down. Our car is flying to the finish line, ahead of its rivals. A little more and the public will celebrate the new champion!

And at that moment the car jerked and, as it seemed to him, very slowly began to roll over on its side. He didn’t even immediately realize that they, his friends, were shooting. According to HIM. And this is no longer a joke. One machine gun burst, another... Yes, damn it! Like in some action movie! But this, alas, is not a movie! The wheel is broken. And when I realized this, it was already too late to be afraid. After all, he was once a good racing driver, so he immediately guessed: it was time to pray. Now everything is in God's hands. The car, flying at crazy speed, instantly became uncontrollable. In addition, one of the bullets pierced the gas tank. Intuition suggested: yes, it is so. The guys are serious. They want to kill him, their FRIEND.

He flew very slowly and, as it seemed to him, beautifully into the ditch. Since his soul was now handed over to God, he saw everything as if from the outside and even had time to think:

“And the man falls beautifully!”...

He woke up already on the ground. Inside a car that catches fire. And then I remembered:

“It’s me who’s burning. I".

Judging by the fact that the soul returned to the body, there in heaven, after consulting, they decided: it’s too early for him. The car was good, strong, a real “German”. Reliable, like a mug of foamy, unfiltered, Bavarian sausages oozing with pork fat. Guarantee of satiety and a calm, measured life. She, this “German”, withstood the blow, she was no stranger to it, only the pillars moved and the windshield began to crack. And she didn’t let him go to waste. It became difficult to breathe because the airbag was pressing against my chest. He was surprised to think that his head was in place and he was even thinking quite well, his arms and legs, everything was intact.

He got out of the cabin on autopilot. And, grabbing one of the canisters, he dragged it behind him. With difficulty I crawled to the side of the road. Then I thought: “I won’t make it.” And, straightening up, with a last force of will, he threw the canister into a nearby trash container. All my strength went into this. He squatted down and tried to catch his breath. And then suddenly I heard such familiar voices of my former friends:

- We have to finish him off!

- Wait a minute!

- Lekha, where are you going?!!

- There's money there!

- Stop, fool! Back! Lekha!!!

- This is lam! Lam bucks! It will burn, after all...!

Natalya Andreeva

Island of Fluttering Butterflies

Him: the day before departure

He didn’t even immediately realize that they were shooting at the car. They can't. Should not. That doesn't happen at all. They are his friends! Friends don't act like that!

He was tempted to stop and ask:

- Guys, this is some kind of joke, right? Funny. And it worked! I almost believed it! They laughed and ran away. I am silent and you are silent.

Or not: squeeze everything out of the car that it is capable of, break away from them and forget it like a bad dream.

Moreover, they have already begun to lag behind. Still would! Once upon a time he was a good racing driver, and if he had happened to be born in another place and at another time, and his youth would have been in the notorious noughties, when every risky man could achieve his goal if he went ahead, God knows! I would race in Formula 1 now. Monaco Grand Prix, Monte Carlo Grand Prix...

My soul felt so sweet... It was as if it had been filled to the brim with champagne, and magical bubbles began to rise, causing my head to become light, very light, simply weightless. Hands involuntarily stroked the steering wheel: calm down, my sweet girl, calm down. Our car is flying to the finish line, ahead of its rivals. A little more and the public will celebrate the new champion!

He flew very slowly and, as it seemed to him, beautifully into the ditch. Since his soul was now handed over to God, he saw everything as if from the outside and even had time to think:

“And the man falls beautifully!”

He woke up already on the ground. Inside a car that catches fire. And then I remembered:

“It’s me who’s burning. I".

- We have to finish him off!

- Wait a minute!

- Lekha, where are you going?!!

- There's money there!

- Stop, fool! Back! Lekha!!!

- This is lam! Lam bucks! It will burn, after all...!

- I'm with you!

Even in his sleep, as then, his ears were blocked. This was the most intense moment. Another little death. The first happened when he was flying into a ditch. The second was when the gas tank exploded. And again I was lucky. “It’s too early for him,” the angels in heaven grinned.

It exploded, swayed, then it became hot, like a summer afternoon on the Sochi beach. And a wave similar to the sea hit my head. It was as if he had been thrown onto sharp stones. He almost lost consciousness from the wild pain.

As always, it was at that moment that he woke up. His forehead and cheeks were wet with sweat, and his lips were salty with tears. Tears of pain and resentment. The sheet got tangled and the blanket moved to the side. Is it really impossible to get rid of these memories?! Well, should I burn in hell for the rest of my life, and for the sins of others?!

I didn't feel like eating. There was no appetite at all. Death, although small, still happened to him. And twice. Life returned to the body, but fear remained. While flying into the ditch, I managed to understand that there was nothing there on the other side. Except peace, and eternal peace. And sleep, also eternal, empty, without any dreams. And why the hell is it, tell me, needed, this eternal peace, when you have a body, and it’s still young, strong, beautiful, greedy for all sorts of pleasures: food, drink, girls... And this body can handle everything now. And it’s better to say by... But this is already a non-literary, as they say, expression. And he has no other words after these nightmares.