Looking Out the Window: Christine Lindsay Talks about Veiled at Midnight, the Third Book in Her Twilight of the British Raj Series. Gives Away an e-Book of Each Title in the Trilogy.
A Warm Welcome to Christine Lindsay
Christine will give away an e-book of all three novels in her series. To enter to win them leave a comment and an e-mail address below.
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A MOST DISREPUTABLE PASTāby Christine Lindsay
Iāll come clean with you. Iām one of those people with a āpastā. Yes, today I stand on stages and share the gospel message of Jesus Christ with hundreds of women at a time. But, like Mary Magdalene Iām a woman with a pastāa past that makes me blush. A past that I donāt share the details ofādetails I donāt want my children to know aboutāIād cringe embarrassment and shame.
But the most important reason I donāt blurt out all my shameful past is because I donāt have to. Years ago when I put my faith in Jesus Christ I became a new womanāa woman worthy of wearing white when I walked up the aisle to marry my husband. There was nothing in my disreputable past that could not be washed away by the atoning sacrifice of Jesus Christ.
Still though, I meet people in my travels who think their sin is too awful for Christ to forgive. I wrote the novel Veiled at Midnight to encourage those who either have a shameful past or perhaps love someone who does, someone who just canāt drag themselves out of the gutter.
In this novel I want readers to realize that nothing can separate us from the love of Godāeven our own most disreputable sins.
Romans 5:8 (NIV)
But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.
Romans 8:38-39
For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Below is an excerpt from Veiled at Midnight that I hope will inspire you to not give up on that sinner you love.
From Veiled at Midnight
Later that night, Cam closed the door to the small room allotted to him. The roomās regular occupant, a Lieutenant Bradley was on leave, but had left a few of his belongings behind. Cam sank to the edge of the bed, alone at last with his thoughts. With shaking hands, he stood and paced from the window to the closet, to the window again. Heād failed Dassah. Heād put her life in danger.
Last night a refrain in his mind had kept him awake. That niggling voice at the back of his brain returned with renewed insidiousness. There is no hope. All is lost.
No hopeā¦oh dear God. He raked his hair back. Surely there was still hope.
But the voice in his brain whispered. No hope. You are undeserving of hope. Why should God help youā¦you are nothing more than a drunk? There is nothing for you but fearā¦fear.
The bile of fear rose up the back of Camās throat.
There is only one way to rid yourself of fearā¦blot it outā¦forget. You know where it isā¦.
Yes, he knew where it was. Cam turned to face the closet. Heād seen the possessions of Lieutenant Bradley when heād stowed his own kit in the closet earlier.
You need a drinkā¦just one drinkā¦no one will know. The niggling voice switched from his brain and seemed to come from the closet. What else can you doā¦but give up?
He neededā¦yes he needed to blot out the fear. Where was she? Was she even still alive?
The door swung open easily, and he found the case of whiskey at the rear of the closet. He bent to retrieve a bottle, unsealed it and had it open in seconds. Lowering himself to sit on the bed he raised the bottle to eye level to study and savor it. Light from the lamp flickered through the glass, showing off the amber liquid as if it were swirling, fiery tongues. The barely discernable memory of the Reverend Alanās voice, and of Eshana and Jai died away. So too did his motherās pleadings. And he stuffed down deep the memory of Dadās gray gaze.
Instead all Cam heard was that voice at the back of his mind, calling out to himā¦to blot out all that tormented him.
With shaking hands he poured three fingers of whiskey into a glass and lifted it to stare into its depths. Heād gone more than five months without a drink. Heād almost succeeded.
God is not hereā¦you are aloneā¦so drown your fears. Deep in the glass the swirling amber turned to flames, and Cam felt himself fallingā¦falling into the fire of his cremation, as if he saw his future. This was the way he would die in India, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Cam lifted the glass up to rest its rim against his lips, and let the sensation of falling take him to his grave if need be.
A bird sang.
A moth flittered against the lampshade, and Cam cursed the distraction. Outside the open window in the darkened garden, a bird trilled again. The memory of a scene from Romeo and Juliet that heād read with Dassah darted into his mind. Dassah had read Julietās part, āIt is not yet near day. It was the nightingale, and not the lark that pierced the fearful hollow of thine earā¦ā
Then he had read Romeoās part, āIt was the lark, the herald of the mornā¦no nightingaleā¦I must be gone and liveā¦or stay and die.ā
But Cam knew it was neither the nightingale nor the lark. He scrubbed his face hard with his hand. It was nothing more than a simple dusty sparrow, a sparrow whose song pierced the darkness when it had no business being awake in the middle of the night. The sweet notes sang again, and with trembling limbs Cam tried to stand but sank to his knees with a thud. The glass dropped from his hand and spilled on the floor.
āItās you, isnāt it?ā he whispered on a hoarse breath.
I am here. I will not let you fallā¦for you are my son.
Truth burned hot in Camās chest. He scoured his face with his hands again and choked on the words, āIām not worthy to be your son.ā
No, but I am worthy to save you. Let me lift youā¦.
Cam had no strength of his own. As fragile as the moth fluttering about the lampshade, he hung his head. Heād almost taken that drink, almost destroyed the months of sobriety so many people had prayed for and hoped for. Heād almost failed Dassah again.
Stand, my son. Stand like the man I want you to be.
Outside in the garden, the sparrow sang in the dark. Along the sides of Camās torso, the sensation of a thousand moths fluttered. He lurched from his knees, planting one foot on the floor. The flitting moth sensation swirled along his spine, and setting his other foot on the floor, he stood and looked out on the night. Raising his hands, palms up to receive, he savored the name that Dad had taught him to love so long ago. Dad pronounced His name as Jesus. Dassah called Him Yeshu. The fluttering sensation of moths along his torso disappeared, and was replaced by a feeling of lightness. Earlier, Mother had asked him who he was.
Cam leaned against the window frame and rested his forehead against his arm. Hope, confidence, even joy stirred within him. āNow I know, Lord, now I know who I am. I belong to youāa new man.
About Veiled at MidnightāExplosive and Passionate Finale of Twilight of the British Raj
The British Empire is coming to an end. As millions flee to the roads, caught up in the turbulent wake is Captain Cam Fraser, his sister Miriam, and the beautiful Indian Dassah.
Cam has never been able to put Dassah from his mind, ever since the days when he played with the orphans at the mission as a boy. But a British officer and the aide to the last viceroy cannot marry a poor Indian woman, can he?
As this becomes clear to Dassah, she has no option but to run. Cam may hold her heartābut she cannot let him break it again.
Miriam rails against the separation of the land of her birth, but is Lieutenant Colonel Jack Sunderland her soulmate or a distraction from what God has called her to do?
The 1947 Partition of India has separated the country these three loveā¦but can they find their true homes before it separates them forever?
About Christine Lindsay
Christine Lindsay was born in Ireland, and is proud of the fact that she was once patted on the head by Prince Philip when she was a baby. Her great grandfather, and her grandfatherāyes father and sonāwere both riveters on the building of the Titanic. Tongue in cheek, Christine states that as a family they accept no responsibility for the sinking of that infamous ship.
Stories of Christineās ancestors who served in the British Cavalry in Colonial India inspired her multi-award-winning, historical series Twilight of the British Raj, Book 1 Shadowed in Silk, Book 2 Captured by Moonlight, and newly released Veiled at Midnight.
Connect with Christine
Please drop by Christineās website http://www.christinelindsay.com/ or follow her on Twitter and be her friend on Pinterest , āLike her Facebook page, and GoodReads
Purchase links for Veiled at Midnight and all of Christineās novels.
Veiled at Midnight Amazon
Veiled at Midnight Barnes and Noble
Veiled at Midnight ChristianBook.com
Shadowed in Silk Amazon
Shadowed in Silk Barnes and Noble
Shadowed in Silk ChristianBook.com
Captured by Moonlight Amazon
Captured by Moonlight Barnes and Noble
Captured by Moonlight ChristianBooks.com
Londonderry Dreaming Amazon
Londonderry Dreaming
Londonderry Dreaming ChristianBooks.com
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Gail, as always, your blog is outstanding. Thank you!