// Photo: Alexander Orlov / Starface.ru

I read the book in one gulp in a few hours, and then cried for half the night - she so truthfully described my Zhannochka, her character, - the father of the singer Vladimir Borisovich shares with StarHit. - It turned out a touching biography, I really liked it. The author of the book asked if any changes needed to be made, but I allowed it to be left as is.

A fan of Zhanna Friske from Kostroma, 24-year-old Christina Rose, has collected the rarest photos, real stories from the life of a star and transferred them to a collection of stories. A limited edition is being prepared for release in the fall. StarHit is the first to publish excerpts from the book of a fan who anonymously helped the star during cancer treatment. Christina herself knows about this disease firsthand.

Private bussiness

Clips, concerts, TV shows, newspaper clippings ... The girl watched the celebrity for 11 years. A schoolgirl Christina began to follow Friske's life in 2004, after The Last Hero 4 was released on the screens. Then the ex-soloist of the "Brilliant" conquered Christina by willpower. Now she often recalls Zhanna's phrase that has spread all over the country, with which she supported her teammate in a difficult test: “You can do it! On the teeth! Now the girl says it to her patients - she works as a nurse at an oncologic dispensary. And Christina's family was faced with a diagnosis-sentence, from which Jeanne burned out: her mother, sister and grandfather had oncology.

“When the “Let them talk” program was on “First”, dedicated to raising funds for Zhanna, my colleagues and I did not tear ourselves away from the screen, the writer admits to StarHit. - The words of Dima Shepelev shocked. The doctors and I sent several SMS at once to help. The next morning I heard how patients discuss the grief of the Friske family, and realized that the story of this woman is of interest to many. People who find themselves in the same position want to see in her a beacon, into the light of which they can go, take an example from a real fighter, a hero of our time. The decision came by itself: you need to write a book!”

Christina collected seventy pages of biography in a few weeks. At night, she surfed the Web in search of information about the heroin. After watching dozens of programs, re-reading hundreds of notes and interviews, Rose wrote the first version of the book. In the Cardiogram of Life there are stories about little Zhanna, about her friends who were with her from school to last day. The author did not bypass the singer's family either, telling how the girl helped her parents raise her younger sister Natasha, how she met the love of her life - Dmitry Shepelev. True, he is mentioned only a few times in the book, since his permission to publish was never obtained.

First Reader

“I didn’t want to hurt the singer’s relatives, so I avoided the topic of illness,” Christina continues. - I dreamed that the ending was happy, so the book ends with the words: "Let's assume that Zhanna did not leave us, but simply went on tour." When the draft was ready, I realized that it was necessary to show the manuscript to the relatives of the heroine before printing. Fortunately, I managed to contact Jeanne's sister in social network. Natasha answered me with such warmth and cordiality that my heart calmed down.

The singer's sister thanked the girl and gave her the number of her father, who is responsible for communicating with Friske's fans. Jeanne's dad asked to send the text. And when I read it, I gave only one instruction: "Hurry up and go to print and don't give up writing." Now the manuscript is in the printing house "Kostromaizdat". From day to day, the nurse will be informed of the release date of the book. And the singer's fans will be waiting for her on the shelves this fall.

24-year-old Christina Rose collected the rarest photos, real stories from the life of a star and transferred them to a collection of stories

Cancer center nurse wrote a book about Jeanne Friske. A collection of stories about the singer "Cardiogram of Life" will be released this fall.

“I read the book in one gulp in a few hours, and then cried for half the night - she so truthfully described my Zhannochka, her character,” the singer’s father Vladimir Borisovich shares with StarHit. It turned out to be a touching biography, I really liked it. some edits, but I allowed to leave everything as it is."

A fan of Zhanna Friske from Kostroma, 24-year-old Christina Rose, collected rare photos, real stories from the life of a star and transferred them to a collection of stories. Christina anonymously helped the star during her cancer treatment. Christina herself knows about this disease firsthand.

The girl watched the celebrity for 11 years. Schoolgirl Christina began to follow the life of Friske in 2004, after the Last Hero-4 was released on the screens. Then the ex-soloist of the "Brilliant" conquered Christina with willpower. Now she often recalls Zhanna's phrase that has spread all over the country, with which she supported her teammate in a difficult test: "You can do it! On your teeth!" Now the girl says it to her patients - she works as a nurse in an oncology dispensary. And Christina's family was faced with a diagnosis-sentence, from which Jeanne burned out: her mother, sister and grandfather had oncology.

“When” the program “Let them talk” was on, dedicated to raising funds for Zhanna, my colleagues and I did not tear ourselves away from the screen, the writer admits to StarHit. The words of Dima Shepelev shocked. The doctors and I sent several SMS at once to help. The next morning I heard how patients discuss the grief of the Friske family, and realized that the story of this woman is of interest to many. People who find themselves in the same position want to see in her a beacon, into the light of which they can go, take an example from a real fighter, a hero of our time. The decision came by itself: you need to write a book!

Christina collected seventy pages of biography in a few weeks. At night, she surfed the Web in search of information about the heroin. After watching dozens of programs, re-reading hundreds of notes and interviews, Rose wrote the first version of the book. In the Cardiogram of Life there are stories about little Jeanne, about her friends who were with her from school until the last day. The author did not bypass the singer's family either, telling how the girl helped her parents raise her younger sister Natasha, how she met the love of her life - Dmitry Shepelev. True, he is mentioned only a few times in the book, since his permission to publish was never obtained.

“I didn’t want to hurt the singer’s relatives, so I avoided the topic of illness,” Christina continues. I dreamed that the ending was happy, so the book ends with the words: “Let's assume that Zhanna did not leave us, but simply went on tour.” When the draft was is ready, I realized that it is necessary to show the manuscript before printing to the relatives of the heroine. Fortunately, I managed to contact Zhanna's sister on the social network. Natasha answered me with such warmth and cordiality that my heart calmed down."

The singer's sister thanked the girl and gave her the number of her father, who is responsible for communicating with Friske's fans. Jeanne's dad asked to send the text. And when I read it, I gave only one instruction: "Hurry up and go to print and don't give up writing." Now the manuscript is in the printing house. From day to day, the nurse will be informed of the release date of the book. And the singer's fans will be waiting for her on the shelves this fall.

24 year old Christina Rose, groupie Zhanna Friske from Kostroma, became the author of a posthumous biography about her beloved singer. The girl collected rare pictures, stories of her school years and the artist's star journey. Christina titled her book "Cardiogram of life". It took the fan three weeks to write the first 70 pages.

The author from the age of 11 closely followed the life of Friske. As Rose herself, who works as a nurse in one of the oncology dispensaries, admitted, she was struck by Zhanna's willpower and determination in the program "The Last Hero", where she won. The most poignant and memorable for the girl was the phrase of the singer, uttered during the filming of this reality show: “You can do it! On the teeth!

After the public was shocked by the news about the illness of the ex-soloist of the Brilliant group, Rose often heard how her patients worried about the star and wanted to see her as an example to follow in the fight against the disease. Also, this terrible diagnosis did not bypass the girl's relatives - mother, sister and grandfather. Today Christina continues to provide help and support to cancer patients. It is with the aforementioned phrase that she encourages and motivates them every day.

Father Zhanna Friske Vladimir Kopylov already familiar with the book "Cardiogram of life" and gave his consent to publication. He admitted to reporters that he could not hold back tears when he read a collection of stories. The Kostroma nurse regularly consulted with the singer's relatives while writing. As Vladimir himself noted, Rose turned out to be a very truthful and touching biography. A Dmitry Shepelev, the civil husband of the artist and the father of their son Plato, did not give his consent to the publication. In this regard, it was decided to minimize the use of the name of the TV presenter in the “Cardiogram of Life”, which also describes the love story of Jeanne and Dmitry. About this theme.

Current page: 1 (the book has a total of 14 pages) [accessible reading excerpt: 10 pages]

Dmitry Shepelev
Jeanne

© Shepelev D., 2017

© Design. LLC "Publishing House" E ", 2017

* * *

In memory of the woman I love

Anyone who is experiencing this

To those who supported us

Foreword

Having decided on this book, I thought for a long time about whom to turn to with a request for a preface. I was told that someone famous should write it, whose opinion would be of interest to everyone. I didn't mind, but intuitively knew that this story does not require any big names to attract attention. I am not writing all this for empty noise.

Telling our story with Zhanna, I clearly imagine why I am doing this: I want to lend a helping hand to those who right now, at this moment, are going through a test of a serious illness.

I know what strength it takes not to despair, to control oneself and, most importantly, to believe in the miracle of salvation. It is this faith and support, no matter who it comes from, that, along with medicines, helps to endure, not to give up, to scratch at least one more day, one week, a month and even years from the disease.

The support Jeanne and I received during the almost two years of her illness overwhelmed us. Millions of letters, thousands of messages, kind words from strangers, but people who care deeply about us.

I remember how after the action of the First Channel, when it was first publicly told about Zhanna's illness, I saw a photograph of one provincial Orthodox parish. A banner hung in front of the entrance to the temple: “Pray for Jeanne.” It shocked me. Then Zhanna and I talked a lot about how we would try to be grateful to people for their prayers and participation, for the money they sent for her treatment, for words and kind thoughts. And now it's time to say thank you. This book is a tribute to all those who care.

The story that I will tell is a story of illness and a love story at the same time. This is a book about our experience of resistance and - I believe - victory over circumstances. I hope it can be very useful to those who fight themselves or help a loved one fight.

It is also a story about kind and sympathetic people whom we would hardly have met if it were not for cancer. About those who were there when it seemed that the world had turned its back on us, leaving us face to face with trouble, and there was nowhere to count on help. These people have become our salvation, our angels.

This is a story that I hope will help those who find themselves in a similar situation survive. It's easier to fight knowing you're not alone. And win. Because otherwise why fight.

That is why one of the letters I received is the best preface to a book that I hope you can read to the end. I publish it with the permission of the author.

Dmitry, hello. For a long time I did not dare to write to you, because, I suppose, you are not up to everyone right now. But for me it is too important, so I still write. My name is Galya, and I called you in the winter, my husband has glioblastoma, I understand that you do not remember this, most likely, but this is not important. Just know that you helped us a lot. We were treated in an American center whose contacts you gave us. And perhaps those were the happiest months of my life. The results after the treatment, which we were able to pay for, were excellent. And for that I am grateful to you. I don’t know and I don’t want to imagine how you survived everything that happened to you. I have nothing to tell you. Because any words would be inappropriate, so it seems to me. I myself have two kids and my husband is not in the best condition. And I am terribly afraid of the future, although I am ready to fight to the last.

I won't write about how good you are, because I don't know you, it just seems to me that you are as real as Zhanna. Surely you understand how important every day is, while the love of your life can speak and be there. Even though these are incredibly difficult days. My husband would have died in the spring if not for your letter. My boys already know their dad a few months more than they should. And for that I am grateful to you.

Hundreds of people write to me myself, and probably thousands to you, I know how tiring it is. But I will be pleased if you take a couple of minutes and read my letter. Thank you for being who you are. Everything will definitely work out well for you and Plato. Because the nightmare can't last forever.

Galina

I learned about the diagnosis of Galina's husband from mutual friends on New Year's Eve, 2015. At the very moment when Jeanne's condition deteriorated sharply. We talked with Galina on the phone several times. I shared with her all the medical contacts that I had, believing that information is the main thing that is usually lacking in those who have just encountered cancer. Later, in a letter, I sent Galina the story of our struggle, describing the possible pitfalls of treatment. We no longer wrote off, did not call each other. And we never saw each other.

Jeanne quickly melted away. On June 15, 2015, she passed away. This message came at the moment when the most terrible and empty streak came in my life.

I believe that for someone this book will become the same source of strength, light and hope that this letter was for me in the black summer of 2015.

Chapter 0

I often have this dream: large snowflakes crash into a high floor-to-ceiling window on the 20th floor of a hotel in Manhattan. Below, New York, the most vibrant city on Earth, is lit with Christmas lights. We have just entered the room. And everything seems to be the same as in the past happy life: the two of us, we are in a hotel, now the journey will begin, which will become another page in the history of our love. I stand at the window and look at the city. Behind me is a huge hotel bed with crisp, fresh sheets. Jeanne had just drowned in it, whispering: “Lord, how good! As before ... ”I feel her smile with my back. I turn around. In my hands is the phone and SMS: "Danna died." Danna? This is Zhanna. With a mistake! Again! Like that terrible night when this wild, with a mistake, SMS from her sister came, making everything irreversible, bringing an inexorable line under everything. I wake up. The heart is pounding. Cold. I'm not imagining anything. This dream I dream and dream, interfering with reality, returning to memories.

Between that last happy night in New York and the fatal SMS with an error - a year and a half. Eighteen months of sickness and love that we spent together. Hand in hand. We weren't going to give up and we didn't. Until the end. Whoever says what.

I remember how then, in Manhattan, I asked Jeanne: “Do you believe yourself?” And she, as always with a smile, quietly replied: "If you believe, then I believe."

There, in winter New York, we had to make, perhaps, the most difficult and serious decision in our life together: how to treat Jeanne, how to tell friends and acquaintances that she was ill, millions of her fans who had been abandoning her for more than six months us questions, journalists scurrying around and taking pictures on the sly, everything-everything-everything. How to stop hiding, share our secret with everyone, but stay alone with each other?

An hour later, exhausted and devastated, I will leave the next room and show Zhanna a video message that I recorded and which a few hours later the whole world will see: “Our family has had a difficult test. Zhanna has cancer. Now we are making one request: please support us with a kind word and support us with prayer.”

We do not yet know that we will soon give up the treatment for which we were in Manhattan, but quite unexpectedly another, saving plan will arise, and after a few days we will accept it; we don't know yet that in a week we'll meet Dr. Black, who - the only one of all the doctors we've met before - will say: “I'm taking her. Let's not give up"; we still do not know that the new, experimental therapy will cost about half a million dollars, which means that the funds raised by Rusfond with the support of Channel One are our only chance; we still don't know that this new treatment will give Zhanna a year and a half of life, will return her son, friends and, finally, us to each other. For several months. So that later the disease would separate forever.

Fate measured out four years for us, which is not a term for history, but, as it turned out, a lot for human life. And each of these days was filled with her - my beloved, the memories of which I cherish endlessly. My girl... How comfortable her hand lay in mine, how comfortable it was to hug her, turning into a single whole, as if this person was created just for me. Her look, the touch of her lips, her soft reddish hair, her smell, so warm and sweet, unlike any other, which I so carefully keep in my memory - just so I don’t forget.

But memory is a strange thing. She slips away, changes, sometimes deceives, and sometimes gives answers to previously unanswered questions. I am writing this book in order to preserve the memory of Jeanne. The one I love, the one I wanted her to stay forever: laughing, sunny, with a playful and soulful voice, with a disarming smile. Strong and weak, meekly accepting a mortal battle.

This is a book about my Jeanne as I knew her, about a very short love and a terrible illness. About the happiest and at the same time difficult years of my life.

I believe that this book is needed not only by me, but, perhaps later, by our son Plato as a memory of my mother.

Chapter 1

She was always surrounded by a lot of people - family, friends, girlfriends, producers - and each of them had their own personal Zhanna, whose attention he claimed and whose location he valued.

Jeanne has always been an unusually comfortable person in communication. Conflict-free, friendly and bright. Together with fame and beauty, these qualities attracted incredibly.

I appeared in her life, perhaps the last, not counting our son Plato. And, I will not hide, I often felt the jealousy of others. Of course, I was evaluated, looked at, discussed and often disliked: after all, I laid claim to their Jeanne. I never aspired to take a special place in her life. Just met and fell in love with her. Not a pop star, not a sex symbol, not a black one from Brilliant, but just a girl who changed my life forever.

year 2009. I am 26. I am free, carefree and lucky. I am in Moscow at the invitation of Channel One. I can do everything. I am also a snob and a cynic, prickly, caustic and bilious. I am aggressive and sarcastic and I think I know the taste of life. There are no plans for the future: only to enjoy success, Moscow and freedom, which in my understanding is success.

Night club. Big and fun company. Dancing, laughter, champagne, kisses, in a word, everything is as usual - dolce vita ... Suddenly, a whisper runs from one to another in the club: "Jeanne, Jeanne ..." I turn around. Under the supervision of guards, a short girl with a bouncing ponytail of reddish hair walks along the wall to the DJ console. Later I find out: that night she just drove by and came to say hello to an old friend who played in this club. Soon everyone forgot about Jeanne. Alone, I froze and could not take my eyes off her. It seemed that there was no music, no noisy company, no club, no city, no me, nothing. I stood and looked at her, frozen, with a stupid glass in my hand. And he did not understand himself: what is happening? Is it really me?

Jeanne waved her hand at me. I answered half asleep. She smiled broadly. “If you don’t know how to behave, just smile,” she liked to repeat.

I remember her words: “Listen to your heart and do as it tells you, don't be afraid. Wait - let go. If it is destined, it will return and come true. But who and when knew how to feel their fate in advance?

Of course, I always knew who Zhanna Friske was. But he was never a fan of her, did not follow her or her work. Yes, sweet girl, no more.

…It was one of my first days in Moscow. I stayed with friends on Krasnaya Presnya. Showing me the area, one of them, with a wide wave of his hand, like a guide on an excursion, said, pointing to the house: "Zhanna Friske lives here." A brightly colored sports car was parked in front of the house. "Probably this is hers, too?" I said indifferently. What, in general, matters where she lives. However, soon I also settled on Krasnaya Presnya, closer to my friends and, as it turned out, to Zhanna.

Already when I was a TV presenter in Moscow, I had to announce her performances several times. I did it, as everyone expected from me, with ironic aspiration and delight. But we didn't know each other. And - no signs of fate, although she slowly and carefully brought us to each other.

Once again, we briefly saw each other at one of the social events, they handed me a statuette, she was a guest. We were not introduced again. They glimpsed, parted ... Later, she said that for some reason she remembered exactly that fleeting meeting.

The next time we crossed paths was on the set of the First Channel show “Property of the Republic”. Jeanne and others were getting ready to go on stage. I stood backstage, re-read the script and did not pay any attention to her. “Hello, we have been discussing you all evening, you are such a charismatic man,” suddenly, turning to me, Zhanna shot at point-blank range. Of course, not seriously, with irony, very coquettishly, but looking straight into the eyes. In general, she was a big coquette ... I'm not one of the timid ones. But from these words, look eye to eye was confused. Of course, later, laughing at myself, I imagined how easily and naturally I emerge victorious from this episode, how I jokingly answer with a quote from the film with her participation: “Please control yourself.” But then, at that moment, I was completely taken aback and did not find what to say, smiled and went on stage.

But he was no longer able to forget this meeting, to brush it off. However, I was not looking for new meetings with Jeanne and could not even think that very little time would pass and I would invite her on a date ...

Much later, when Zhanna becomes not only a woman for me, but my close friend, becomes, if you like, a teacher of simple life truths, values ​​and views, she will share with me one of her secrets: never rush, never make too much effort. Only desire and will are enough, and then everything will converge, coincide, come true ... We often and for a long time talked about this with her. After. In the meantime, I intuitively acted exactly as she always did - let go.

But not far. Living side by side, we are not fate, are we? - turned out to be clients of a sports club and soon met again. We must have looked pretty funny from the outside, our interest in each other was clearly visible to others, however, without admitting to ourselves, we still kept our distance.

Jeanne has just arrived, and my training has already ended. But suddenly my coach shows an unexpected initiative: “Hang on. We forgot something else." And he drags me to the very corner of the gym where another coach is working with Zhanna. “Work on your abs,” my mentor announces. And he comes up with some kind of unprecedented, but very effective exercise, which is simply impossible not to pay attention to. In general, even in my own eyes, I look like a kind of strong superman. Zhanna glances, coquettishly turns away. In the end, we broke down and laughed.

But the training is over. Goodbye. I'm leaving.

"Idiot! I think to myself in the locker room. - What an idiot you are! .. Come back! So we exchanged phone numbers, and after maybe a month I invited Zhanna to our first date.

It was early spring. The time when, with the first warmth, elegance and life return to the city, and the air is filled with excitement. Perhaps for the first time, when ordering a table in my then favorite restaurant on the embankment, I ask for a secluded corner, away from prying eyes. I sit down. And I'm waiting.

It seems that more than an hour has passed, but I'm still sitting, calmly waiting at an empty table, I'm not in a hurry and I have no doubt that Zhanna will come. The car stops, the familiar ponytail of reddish hair flashes, for a moment, I rise towards it - here it is. Elegant, light and looks like it's not a date at all, like she was just passing by and decided to stop by. Only eyes and a wide smile burn.

- Hello…

- Hello.

It was then that it became clear that everything was not just like that. And that this dizziness, from which the world stops and everything else becomes unimportant, is for a long time. And if you are brave and allow yourself to dream, then you can say - forever.

Chapter 2

For some reason, it didn’t look like a first date at all, when you creakingly look inside yourself for some nothing. meaningful words, painfully sorting through common topics, trying to please or looking closely - is it worth wasting time at all?

- Let's agree right away, no questions are needed, as in an interview, okay?

I also wanted to propose...

Suddenly she said:

- I have a speech in an hour.

- I want to go with you.

It was impossible to imagine that we would now part even for a minute ...

Running away to the dressing room, Jeanne threw, smiling:

- You know all my songs, you will sing along.

“I don’t want to upset you, but I don’t know any…”

She took the stage radiant, wearing a short bodycon sequined dress and shoes with the famous red soles, tastefully matched with the outfit, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail and a predatory look. And I stood in the distance, watched with curiosity and was amazed at how much she changed, being in the beams of the spotlights, on stage in front of the public. Zhanna Friske. Star. Of course it was a role. But she was flawless in her. And, I must say, Jeanne was very fond of this role. The work brought her incredible pleasure. More than once I will be surprised at what an abyss is between this sparkling, bathing in the love of fans, photographs and autographs of the Diva on stage and my Zhanna.

And, looking at her then, for the first time I thought: how different we are. I have ambitions and nerves, I am aggressive and intolerant. And she is calm and bright, smiling and friendly with everyone who meets her on the way, whether it be a make-up artist, producer, bodyguard or store clerk. Acquaintance with Zhanna became for me good lesson not only in the sense of oneself, but also in relation to others. And now, left without her, I feel very clearly that her love for life, for people, patience and attention even to the most random people I meet now live in me. This is another lesson from my Zhanna. She changed me a lot. Thanks to her, I became different and, undoubtedly, became a better person.

But how could I have known in advance how fast this lesson would be? What a short meeting? What swift, sharp and unsatisfied love? In the meantime, leaving the concert, we go down in the elevator. Near me is a short girl, who a few minutes ago on the stage seemed so out of reach. And now only the shine of the stage make-up reminds of this. I touch her cheek, brushing off an eyelash, take her hand, and - after all, we still have so much to discuss - we hide in the night city to continue celebrating our meeting.

About a week later, I mustered up the courage to invite her to join me at a Jamiroquai concert in Berlin. And he was ready to refuse, with her performance schedule. But quite unexpectedly and delightfully easily, she agreed.

We agreed to meet the day before the concert right in Berlin, because we were flying from different cities. And, of course, Zhanna wouldn't be herself if she hadn't missed her flight. She was late almost always and everywhere. It always fascinated me with what Olympian calm she could only go to the airport when anyone else in her place would have been there for several hours. And she generally folded her suitcase in fifteen minutes - a touring habit.

Then, during long hospital nights, I thought: “My girl, why did you change this habit of yours being late? Why not late for a meeting with the disease? Why was this meeting necessary at all? Was it really impossible to just pass by, not to catch this fateful flight? Just as simple, natural and without any regrets or remorse. As then, in Berlin ... "

In general, Jeanne, as she could easily, missed her flight and joined me only a day later, a few minutes before the start of the concert.

We danced and laughed. And then, jumping into a taxi, they traveled around Berlin all night, hand in hand. From bar to bar, from club to club, they chatted non-stop. We wanted this journey to never end, and we already imagined what the next city would be for both of us.

It was so easy, relaxed and fun, as it had not been with me before. At some point, I realized that I would never be able to satisfy my passion for this woman. I want to get to know her to the smallest detail, to dissolve in her, to hug her narrow shoulders, to hug her, to become with her that same two-backed creature from my favorite poems.

Only one thing still confused me: she was Zhanna Friske. I didn't want to date a celebrity at all. Frankly, it seemed to me almost a bad tone. Such "service" novels have always caused me skepticism. They seemed insincere, feigned. It didn't even bother me. In the morning I plucked up courage and told her about it. How great it would be, I say, to separate, to draw a line between that fake stage life and everyday life. Separate the pop star from ordinary person. Zhanna Friske from Zhanna. She laughed. Not from my words. For some reason, she thought that I was so carried away talking to her that I was drinking coffee too manneredly, as if I was still trying to impress. I was embarrassed and smiled back. And everything just seemed to fall into place. It became easy.

- In baptism I am Anna.

“That’s great, so I’ll call you Anya.”

For several weeks we tried hard to get used to: I - to call her Anna, and she - to respond to this name. Frankly, it was flour, and soon we abandoned this venture. But my burning desire to date the woman I'm in love with, rather than the pop star, hasn't gone away.

And it looks like we succeeded. Every time she returned home from a concert, I asked her to remove her makeup as soon as possible so that it would not be Diva, from whom the fans could not take their eyes off, but my Zhanna.

12:59 31.12.2015

Books about famous people are a goldmine for those who write them. Books about those who departed to another world not so long ago are generally a mandatory program. Therefore, I have been waiting for a long time for someone resourceful to use the opportunity and create a book about Jeanne Friske. And she waited: nurse Christina Rose suddenly became a writer and published a biography of Zhanna Friske called “Cardiogram of Life”.

It turns out that a resident of Kostroma, Christina Rose, has been watching Friske's life since 2004, when The Last Hero-4 with the participation of the singer appeared on the screens. She concocted a book on 70 pages in a few weeks: she scoured the Internet, watched dozens of programs, re-read hundreds of notes and interviews, and wrote the first version of her masterpiece.

In the "Cardiogram of Life" there are stories about little Zhanna, about her friends, family - the author tells how the future singer helped her parents raise her younger sister Natasha, how she met Dmitry Shepelev. True, he is mentioned only a few times in the book - his permission to publish was never obtained.

Christina was going to release the book back in the fall, but the printing house asked the manuscript to be corrected - the event had to be postponed. Therefore, the first biography of Zhanna Friske was released today.

“I took the first copies from the printing house, - rejoices Christina . - I plan to give them to my mom, dad and Zhanna's sister. If Natasha Friske hadn't given the go-ahead to write the book and helped with Vladimir Borisovich's phone number, nothing would have happened! Many thanks to the relatives of my favorite singer. All this time I talked with Vladimir Friske on the phone, supported him in a difficult situation. I hope that their family conflicts will be resolved soon. I understand that not everyone will probably be happy with the book, and have already prepared for the negative responses.