Saturday, June 1, 2013

Captured by Moonlight by Christine Lindsay

Back Cover Blurb:

Prisoners to their own broken dreams…

After a daring rescue goes awry, Laine Harkness and her friend Eshana flee to the tropical south of India…and headlong into their respective pasts.

Laine takes a nursing position at a plantation in the jungle, only to discover that her former fiancé is the owner…but fun-loving Laine refuses to let Adam crush her heart like he had years ago.

Eshana, captured by her traditional uncle and forced once more into the harsh Hindu customs of mourning, doubts freedom will ever be hers again, much less the forbidden love for Dr. Jai Kaur that had begun to flower.

Amid cyclones, epidemics, and clashing faiths, will the love of the True Master give hope to these searching hearts?

To read an excerpt, go here:

Amritsar, Northern India,
Late October, 1921

If the head woman from the temple looked in her direction, Laine Harkness wouldn’t give two squashed mangoes for her life, or Eshana’s. Laine could never be confused for an Indian, but with the tail end of this cotton sari covering half her face, and her brown eyes peeking over, she simply had to blend in. Still, any minute now that hatchet-faced female standing guard to the girls’ quarters could let out a pulse-freezing yell.

A sudden blare of a conch shell from within the Hindu temple stretched Laine’s nerves. She and Eshana must be mad to risk this exploit again. The Principal Matron at Laine’s hospital would give her a severe reprimand if she ever found out. More likely sack her. If either she or Eshana had any sense at all, they’d turn around, go back to the mission, and mind their own business.

But a line from Wordsworth, one of Adam’s favorites, ran through her mind . . . little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love . . . .

Blast! She wouldn’t call what she and Eshana were about to do little, but please let it be unremembered. Unnoticed would be better still.

Nudging Eshana in the side and closing her mind to the writhing creatures in the burlap bags they
carried, she hissed into Eshana’s ear. “Well off you go. You’ve got yours to dispose of, and I’ve got mine. Just please keep that guard distracted.” Laine jutted her chin toward the obese head woman waddling around in a sari stained down the front with betel juice. Every once in a while she would take her long wooden club and rap on the doors of the hovels.

Eshana hurried through the narrow alleyway toward the guardian of the temple girls, carrying a similar burlap sack to Laine’s.

On the opposite side of the bazaar, the globelike spires of a temple devoted to a Hindu goddess poked above nearby rooftops. Like a multi-tiered cake decorated in a variety of colored icings—pinks, blues, orange—the temple enticed like a sugary concoction.

But from there the loveliness ended. In these alleyways behind the temple, the pervasive scent of incense and stale flowers mixed with the reek of human misery. Girls who should still be playing with toys, and some a little older, chatted with each other. Many of the paint-chipped doors were closed, imprisoning within those adolescent girls forced into ritual marriages to a Hindu deity.

Laine flattened herself against the peeling plaster wall to watch Eshana shake out the contents of her sack at the base of a cluster of clay pots. Now she waved her hands about, talking in rapid Hindi to the older woman. Good girl, Eshana, that’s the ticket. Laine’s stomach writhed in rhythm to the creature in the bag she carried. She strengthened her grip at the top of the sack though the drawstring had been tightly pulled.

Sure enough the head woman stomped off with Eshana and began to clatter around the pots with her club, giving Laine the moment she waited for. Sixth door from the end on this side, Eshana had told her. Eshana had been visiting the inhabitants of this alley on a regular basis in an attempt to give them some sort of medical aid.

Laine hunched down at the correct threshold. A gap of five or so inches between the door and the mud floor of the girl’s hovel afforded her the needed space.

The low voice of the so-called midwife seeped out. Midwife, my eye. Nothing more than witch doctors with their foolish notions that no water should be given to those giving birth and that the mothers be kept in dark rooms with filthy concoctions of ash smeared over them. Laine shut her mind to the atrocities of how they forced a baby out if it took too long to be delivered.

She kneeled at the bottom of the closed door. With a deep swallow and shudder, she slotted the top of the sack into the gap below the door. With her other hand she eased the drawstring, loosened the bag’s opening, and jumped back to flatten against the wall.

Another shudder rippled through her as she waited. Nothing. Her gaze flitted from the ground to the flat rooftops of this rancid boil of a place. Where had the horrible, disgusting creature gone? Oh please don’t come out at me.

At last, screams from inside room number six shattered the sleepy deadness of the afternoon.

“A snake!” screeched one woman in Hindi.

Another cry pierced the air. “A cobra!”

They tumbled from the room, and with a gulp Laine slipped inside. “It’s not poisonous. It’s not poisonous,” she repeated to bolster her flagging courage. But she had no time to worry where the rat snake had wriggled off to.

She went still. There lay the girl.

To buy the book, go here:

Barnes & Noble

About Christine:
Irish-born Christine Lindsay writes award-winning historical novels. In Shadowed in Silk and Captured by Moonlight, Christine delights in weaving the endless theme of God’s redemptive love throughout stories of danger, suspense, adventure, and romance. The Pacific coast of Canada, about 200 miles north of Seattle, is Christine’s home.


To connect with Christine, go here:
Face book page

Christine is giving away a copy of Captured by Moonlight. The giveaway is only available to U.S. addresses. To be entered in the book giveaway, leave a comment along with your email address. You can enter the book giveaway twice--once on each spotlight post.

Happy Reading!
Caroline Brown


KayM said...

Oh my! This sounds exciting, but sad, also. I would really love to win a copy. Thanks for offering an opportunity.
may_dayzee (at) yahoo (dot) com

Anonymous said...

This was very interesting. Thanks Caroline for hosting Christine. And, thank you both for the give-away. I would love to win this book.
MAXIE mac262(at)me)dot)com

sharon m said...

Sounds interesting, CAPTURED BY MOONLIGHT. I was raised in Nigeria and have travelled internationally, so would enjoy this about India. sharon, CA

karenk said...

thanks for the chance to read this novel :)

kmkuka at yahoo dot com

apple blossom said...

nice excerpt thanks for chance to win a copy

ABreading4fun [at] gmail dot] com

Teela said...

Christine, I love that your themes are usually redemptive in nature. I would love to win your book, Captured by Moonlight. teelayoung at hotmail dot com

Rose Milligan said...

Beautiful cover! Thanks for having the giveaway.


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