Books by Amor Towles

Count Alexander Rostov - recipient of the Order of Saint Andrew, member of the Jockey Club, Master of the Hunt - is escorted out of the Kremlin, across Red Square and through the elegant revolving doors of the Hotel Metropol. But instead of being taken to his usual suite, he is led to an attic room with a window the size of a chessboard.

'Fabulous' Observer'Achingly stylish' Guardian'Irresistible' Daily Telegraph'Gripping' The Sunday TimesIn a jazz bar on the last night of 1937, watching a quartet because she couldn't afford to see the whole ensemble, there were certain things Katey Kontent knew: the location of every old church in Manhattanhow to sneak into the cinemahow to type eighty words a minute, five thousand an hour, and nine million a yearand that if you can still lose yourself in a Dickens novel then everything is going to be fine.By the end of the year she'd learned:how to live like a redheadand insist upon the very best;that riches can turn to rags in the trip of a heartbeat,chance encounters can be fated, and the word 'yes' can be a poison.That's how quickly New York City comes about, like a weathervane, or the head of a cobra. Time tells which.'A delicious and memorable novel that will leave you wistful - and desperate for a martini.' Stylist'Elegance and hardship drip off the page' Daily Mail

Grev Alexander Rostov, hofjægermester og ridder af Skt. Andreasordenen, residerer allerede i suite 317 på Hotel Metropol i Moskva, da han i foråret 1922 bliver stillet for ’Hastekomitéen under folkets intendantur for indre anliggender’ anklaget for at have skrevet et digt (og for ikke at ville fralægge sig sine adelstitler). Det er i årene umiddelbart efter Den Russiske Revolution, og Rostov idømmes livslang husarrest på hotellet. Træder han uden for hoveddøren, vil han blive skudt ned på stedet. Alexander Rostov er en dannet og vidende mand med et ukueligt sind, men han har aldrig rørt en finger i hele sit liv. Nu skal han stige de 110 trin op til et lille hummer under loftet hver aften og ned igen hver morgen for at gå til hånde på hotellet. Det gør han i de næste fire årtier, og det kunne lyde som en trist skæbne. For grev Rostov bliver det en gave, og for de mange fantastiske mennesker omkring ham bliver det en fest.