By Juliet Grey
A eye-catching novel of wealthy spectacle and royal scandal, Days of majesty, Days of Sorrow spans fifteen years within the fateful reign of Marie Antoinette, France’s so much mythical and infamous queen.
Paris, 1774. on the smooth age of eighteen, Marie Antoinette ascends to the French throne along her husband, Louis XVI. yet in the back of the extravagance of the younger queen’s problematic silk robes and dizzyingly excessive coiffures, she harbors deeper fears for her destiny and that of the Bourbon dynasty.
From the early growing to be pains of marriage to the enjoyment of conceiving a baby, from her ardour for Swedish army attaché Axel von Fersen to the devastating Affair of the Diamond Necklace, Marie Antoinette attempts to upward thrust above the gossip and rivalries that encircle her. yet as revolution blossoms in the United States, a far higher hazard looms past the gilded gates of Versailles—one that may sweep away the French monarchy perpetually.
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Extra resources for Days of Splendor, Days of Sorrow (Marie Antoinette Trilogy, Book 2)
Now in December 1942, two full Polish wings (six squadrons) were stationed at Northolt. The base itself was pretty nice for a wartime installation. Located just west of London, Northolt had a macadam runway and permanent buildings. The hangars were small but well placed, though much of the maintenance work on the Spitfires was done outdoors. Sleeping quarters were excellent. Miimler assigned me to 315 Squadron, whose pilots I had met at the Embassy Club. My squadron commander would be Squadron Leader Thaddeus Sawicz, but I was placed in the special care of one of his flight commanders, Flight Lt.
This arrangement would work for now, however, because the most pressing matter was getting me proficient with the P-47. Mac told me to fly as much as I needed, and I set out immediately to do just that. I spent the best part of the morning with one of the experienced pilots - I think it was Eby - learning all I could about the P-47. He told me it was a pretty straightforward airplane, with no nasty habits, and he spent a lot of time explaining the operation of its turbo-supercharger, which was new to me.
A gentle press on the right rudder straightened her out, and then I pushed the stick forward to lift the tail when I felt the elevators beginning to bite. Soon the bumpy ride smoothed out as I cleared the runway and followed Andersz into the sky. I reached down to pull the lever that retracted the wheels and adjusted the throttle and boost to climb setting, all the while keeping my eyes glued to Andersz's Spitfire. We were under strict radio silence, so the only sound was the bellow of the Merlin engine, its twelve unmuffled exhaust stacks only a few feet in front of my Here I am ready to take off in one of 315 Squadron s Spitfires.
Days of Splendor, Days of Sorrow (Marie Antoinette Trilogy, Book 2) by Juliet Grey