Circus Bim Bom
A Cold War Adventure
by
Cliff Lovette
Historical Fiction/Cold War Fiction w/romance subplots
Publisher: Bim Bom Books
Date Published: March 1, 2026
Page count: 478 pages
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SYNOPSIS:
"There are no accidents in life, only opportunities wearing different clothes."
When the first privately owned Soviet circus arrived in 1990 America as the Soviet Empire unraveled, its elite performers expected to build cultural bridges through spectacular shows. Instead, this prestigious troupe faced a perilous journey through Cold War America.
Circus director Yuri had to navigate treacherous waters where American mobsters, Soviet agents, and political forces circled like predators. Young aerialist Anton dreamed of becoming a clown against his family's wishes, while forbidden romances and unexpected connections bloomed between Soviet performers and Americans who saw past the ideological divide. As high-stakes conspiracies threatened to tear the circus family apart, they had to choose between the authoritarian chains of home and the uncertain promise of freedom.
As The Ringmaster reminds us, "The best Soviet stories are like vodka—they burn with suffering, intoxicate with conflict, keep you stewing in reflection, and yearning for your heart's desire." This genre-bending tale explores whether human connection can transcend ideology—and whether storytelling can bridge the divides that separate us.
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Author's Edition
The Author's Edition comes with:
• Signed bookplate
• Digital circus poster
• Charter Bim Bom Book Club Membership
• Exclusive access to "Rabbit Hole" chapters
• Signed bookplate
• Digital circus poster
• Charter Bim Bom Book Club Membership
• Exclusive access to "Rabbit Hole" chapters
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ENJOY AN EXCERPT:
Meanwhile, Katyana prepared for her entrance
as Alek presented her with two
Katyana, confused, asked, “What are those for?”
Alek exclaimed, “Clap them together like this—they sound like horse hooves!”
Katyana sneered at their rancid odor and tossed them back. “I’ll pass, thank you! I don’t need your stinkin’ coconuts!” With a swish of her tail, she trotted off.
As Katyana trotted around the ring, Alek mimicked Sir Lancelot’s servant from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, trailing her while clapping his coconuts. Katyana galloped away, leaving Alek struggling to catch up. He sputtered, tossed his coconuts, and collapsed in a heap.
Katyana’s transformation unfolded quietly at first; her precise equine mimicry felt natural. But as she kicked and neighed, performers and crew watched, transfixed.
Her crystal-studded costume scattered fractals of light as she embodied a graceful mare. The light technician noticed and followed her movements with a spotlight.
Engrossed in her performance, Katyana was oblivious to the attention she attracted. For the first time, she wasn’t performing to meet expectations or uphold a legacy. The weight of five generations of Kantemirovs lifted from her shoulders. A piercing whinny escaped her as her blond hair swirled and her headdress traced figure eights in the air. Charging across the ring, she stomped and nickered, then reared up with a spirited squeal, arching her back and swishing her tail before lunging forward in a flurry of hooves.
She paused and snorted, exploding from a trot to a gallop, clearing a teetertotter board, her front hooves landing in a single bound. The onlookers fell under her spell. Though Katyana felt exposed and uncertain, they saw only magic—a creature born of light and movement who stepped from a fairy tale into their ordinary world.
The circus kids clustered at ringside. Anton sat frozen, witnessing Katyana as he had never seen her—graceful, powerful, unbound.
Josef nudged Tiko with a knowing grin. “Our fierce lion seems quite bewitched watching this mare,” he whispered. Josef recognized something shifting in his friend. This wasn’t just admiration; this was discovery.
Tiko caught Anton’s expression and Katyana’s glance back at him.
Katyana continued her cantering, trotting, and galloping. Her angel wings fluttered as she leaped.
Suddenly, the arena resonated with the orchestral soundtrack of The Little Humpbacked Horse. This was Nina and Rita’s doing. Katyana turned to see the sisters in the sound booth, cheering her on to perform the Dance of the Tsar Maiden.
The familiar tune stirred something profound inside Katyana. Her ballet training merged with horsemanship as she performed a unique fusion of The Little Humpbacked Horse ballet—part prancing mare, part Tsar Maiden—a creation wholly her own.
Katyana launched into a graceful cabriole, her hooves scissoring through the air. Smoke billowed around her feet like slow-moving clouds.
She leaped and galloped around the ring, her high-flung headdress trailing behind. She performed an arabesque—reaching skyward, back arched, leg extended, toes pointed—before flowing into a slow canter. Her blond mane, tied in crossed ribbons, flicked with each step.
Katyana whinnied and stomped, her movements blending horse and dancer. The sequence culminated in brilliant pirouettes, her precise footwork belying her equine guise, until her final spin erupted into a whirlwind of hooves and muscle.
Rita leaned into the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, behold our very own countess of the ring!” Nina giggled, adding, “She moves like poetry in motion. She is making the Kantemirov dynasty proud!”
When the music stopped, so did Katyana. Her spell broke the moment she realized she had an audience. Her natural shyness flooded back, sending her into a hasty retreat toward the exit, though pride and excitement still colored her cheeks. She felt exposed, vulnerable—had she revealed too much? But the applause followed her, and for once, she didn’t mind being seen.
She approached the ring exit, shaking her sweaty mane and dabbing her face with a towel. Her breath came in quick bursts, peach fuzz glistening on her skin as glitter traced down her face and neck.
As she passed the star-struck Anton, she tweaked his lion nose and tossed him her damp towel. “That was fun!” she exclaimed as she headed backstage, to resounding applause.
The towel carried the scent of her exertion. Anton caught it blindly, the damp fabric warm against his paws.
Katyana’s impromptu performance stirred something within her. Everyone saw her differently now—especially Anton, who sensed he was embarking on a new path.”
Katyana, confused, asked, “What are those for?”
Alek exclaimed, “Clap them together like this—they sound like horse hooves!”
Katyana sneered at their rancid odor and tossed them back. “I’ll pass, thank you! I don’t need your stinkin’ coconuts!” With a swish of her tail, she trotted off.
As Katyana trotted around the ring, Alek mimicked Sir Lancelot’s servant from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, trailing her while clapping his coconuts. Katyana galloped away, leaving Alek struggling to catch up. He sputtered, tossed his coconuts, and collapsed in a heap.
Katyana’s transformation unfolded quietly at first; her precise equine mimicry felt natural. But as she kicked and neighed, performers and crew watched, transfixed.
Her crystal-studded costume scattered fractals of light as she embodied a graceful mare. The light technician noticed and followed her movements with a spotlight.
Engrossed in her performance, Katyana was oblivious to the attention she attracted. For the first time, she wasn’t performing to meet expectations or uphold a legacy. The weight of five generations of Kantemirovs lifted from her shoulders. A piercing whinny escaped her as her blond hair swirled and her headdress traced figure eights in the air. Charging across the ring, she stomped and nickered, then reared up with a spirited squeal, arching her back and swishing her tail before lunging forward in a flurry of hooves.
She paused and snorted, exploding from a trot to a gallop, clearing a teetertotter board, her front hooves landing in a single bound. The onlookers fell under her spell. Though Katyana felt exposed and uncertain, they saw only magic—a creature born of light and movement who stepped from a fairy tale into their ordinary world.
The circus kids clustered at ringside. Anton sat frozen, witnessing Katyana as he had never seen her—graceful, powerful, unbound.
Josef nudged Tiko with a knowing grin. “Our fierce lion seems quite bewitched watching this mare,” he whispered. Josef recognized something shifting in his friend. This wasn’t just admiration; this was discovery.
Tiko caught Anton’s expression and Katyana’s glance back at him.
Katyana continued her cantering, trotting, and galloping. Her angel wings fluttered as she leaped.
Suddenly, the arena resonated with the orchestral soundtrack of The Little Humpbacked Horse. This was Nina and Rita’s doing. Katyana turned to see the sisters in the sound booth, cheering her on to perform the Dance of the Tsar Maiden.
The familiar tune stirred something profound inside Katyana. Her ballet training merged with horsemanship as she performed a unique fusion of The Little Humpbacked Horse ballet—part prancing mare, part Tsar Maiden—a creation wholly her own.
Katyana launched into a graceful cabriole, her hooves scissoring through the air. Smoke billowed around her feet like slow-moving clouds.
She leaped and galloped around the ring, her high-flung headdress trailing behind. She performed an arabesque—reaching skyward, back arched, leg extended, toes pointed—before flowing into a slow canter. Her blond mane, tied in crossed ribbons, flicked with each step.
Katyana whinnied and stomped, her movements blending horse and dancer. The sequence culminated in brilliant pirouettes, her precise footwork belying her equine guise, until her final spin erupted into a whirlwind of hooves and muscle.
Rita leaned into the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, behold our very own countess of the ring!” Nina giggled, adding, “She moves like poetry in motion. She is making the Kantemirov dynasty proud!”
When the music stopped, so did Katyana. Her spell broke the moment she realized she had an audience. Her natural shyness flooded back, sending her into a hasty retreat toward the exit, though pride and excitement still colored her cheeks. She felt exposed, vulnerable—had she revealed too much? But the applause followed her, and for once, she didn’t mind being seen.
She approached the ring exit, shaking her sweaty mane and dabbing her face with a towel. Her breath came in quick bursts, peach fuzz glistening on her skin as glitter traced down her face and neck.
As she passed the star-struck Anton, she tweaked his lion nose and tossed him her damp towel. “That was fun!” she exclaimed as she headed backstage, to resounding applause.
The towel carried the scent of her exertion. Anton caught it blindly, the damp fabric warm against his paws.
Katyana’s impromptu performance stirred something within her. Everyone saw her differently now—especially Anton, who sensed he was embarking on a new path.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Cliff Lovette is a father, storyteller, and dog lover living in Sandy Springs,
Georgia. For over 40 years, he practiced entertainment law, serving as Senior
Vice President at LaFace Records and representing artists including Usher and
Lisa "Left Eye" Lopes. His passion for bridging historical divides led him to
co-produce a groundbreaking reconciliation event between descendants of
Buffalo Soldiers and Lakota Native Americans. In 1990, when Bobby
Liberman—road manager for the first privately owned Soviet circus
touring America—became his client, Cliff discovered the true story that
inspired this debut duology.
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