Sunday, May 31, 2015

Showcasing author Christine Lindsay, Part Two

Back in 2013 I started a showcase of one of my sweet author friends, and I just discovered, I never actually completed it! HERE you will find the first post if you wish to read it. I hope you can forgive me, my precious friend! Please, next time remind me. I've not been the same since recovering from chemo and radiation and all the poison they put in my body.

And to my readers . . . ENJOY learning about the books by this wonderful author!

SHADOWED IN SILK Book 1 of the Twilight of the British Raj series by Christine Lindsay
She was invisible to those who should have loved her.

After the Great War, Abby Fraser returns to India with her small son, where her husband is stationed with the British army. She has longed to go home to the land of glittering palaces and veiled women . . . but Nick has become a cruel stranger. It will take more than her American pluck to survive.
Major Geoff Richards, broken over the loss of so many of his men in the trenches of France, returns to his cavalry post in Amritsar. But his faith does little to help him understand the ruthlessness of his British peers toward the Indian people he loves. Nor does it explain how he is to protect Abby Fraser and her child from the husband who mistreats them.
Amid political unrest, inhospitable deserts, and Russian spies, tensions rise in India as the people cry for the freedom espoused by Gandhi. Caught between their own ideals and duty, Geoff and Abby stumble into sinister secrets . . . secrets that will thrust them out of the shadows and straight into the fire of revolution.

Reader Reviews:
Christine's debut novel is stunning and I was immediately drawn to life in India where each character was exquisitely portrayed. There is drama, romance and mystery. Christine's descriptions are breathtaking and her writing is a perfect weave of a stormy plot. I was on edge until the end! I had no idea what kind of trouble India was in during the time of the Great War. This is a captivating story of hope and redemption as well as love and adventure. I look forward to the next book in this series—Knowlton Nest (Amazon Reviewer)
"Shadowed In Silk" by Christine Lindsay deserves more than the 5 stars I can give it. This book really kept me reading when I knew I should have turned off my ipad and go to sleep. This book had my attention even before I read the first sentence because of the cover and the title. Then when I read the first sentence I was drawn more into the story and couldn't wait to get into the rest of the story.

This book is written so well that I could see the scenes described in my mind. It was like watching a movie. This book is a love story as well as a fictional history of India. There is a glossery in the front of the book to help with the words but I was able to follow along with the story. I only used it about third times—Debbie Curto (Amazon Reviewer)
Shadowed in Silk is available on Amazon , Barnes & Noble, Kobo, and Deeper Shopping Christian Bookstore.
Excerpt from Shadowed in Silk
Sunlight blinded Abby. Against its rays the silhouette of a soldier with the lean lines of a cavalry man scooped Cam up. Her little boy wound his arms around the man’s neck, and she put her hand to her mouth. So many nights these past few years she’d urged sleep to come, imagining this scene at the pier.
As the man walked toward her she made out his clean-shaven features under the peaked military cap. Major Richards, who’d befriended Cam on the ship, carried her son back to her. It wasn’t Nick enfolding his son close.
“Mrs. Fraser,” Geoff said when he reached her.
She turned to the major a smile she didn’t feel. “With the two of you such good pals I think it’s about time you called me Abby.” She forced a lighter tone. “I was thinking those suffragettes back home might have something, marching about quite pleased with their self-reliance.”
The major’s stony look melted into puzzlement, then his gray eyes began to dance. “I can imagine you marching about with a placard in your hands. For a good cause, of course.”
“But of course.” In spite of Nick’s absence, her smile deepened. “My husband’s not able to meet us, so I was about to hire a—”
She couldn’t finish her sentence. As the major turned toward the street, the sun set afire the twisted, burgundy scar that traveled from his temple to his cheekbone. She fumbled for the word that escaped her.
“Rickshaw,” he finished for her. “If you’ll allow me, I’ll see you to the train station. Going that way myself. And you’re right, the little CO and I are great friends.”
“Little CO?”
He sent a pointed glance at Cam.
She laughed. “Oh, I see. Commanding Officer. I hadn’t realized he’d been given a recent promotion.”
“I’m meeting a friend, Miriam, at Victoria Station. We arranged to meet and travel at least some of the time together. She runs a medical clinic in Amritsar, where you’re going.” His mouth grew tender.
She darted a look up at him. What sort of woman made the ever-so-proper major’s heart flutter? Her own insides did a somersault. Did the same kind of love wait for her from Nick?
 Within minutes a driver loaded their luggage onto a tonga. They climbed into a separate rickshaw and joined the hundreds of other tongas, bicycles, carts, trams, and cars. With the pier behind them they headed for the station.
“Unfortunate your husband was unable to meet you,” Geoff said, never taking his eyes from the passing streets. “India’s not safe for a woman and child traveling alone.”
“I’m aware of that, Major. I was born here.”
“But not raised here.”
Abby lifted her chin. “I may be a bit of a mixture—American mother, British father—but India is my home.”
His eyes twinkled as he dipped his head, conceding defeat. “Everyone onboard wondered how you as a civilian got passage with demobilizing troops, until we realized who your father was. I imagine the general’s name pulled strings for you.”
“Maybe,” Abby drew the word out. Her adrenalin surged, remembering the stuffy war department offices in London. “Let’s just say I made a few social calls to friends of my late father.”
 “Many would call General Mackenzie Hughes a pillar of the British Raj. You must take after him. Most young woman would have collapsed into tears being stranded at the pier.”
“You forget, Major, I am coming home.”
His chuckle reverberated from deep within him. “I do keep forgetting. You’re an old India hand. How old were you when you left?”
 “I was a wise old memsahib of six when I first left these shores.” She tucked a strand of hair under her straw boater hat and, catching his eye, laughed out loud.
 “Ah, yes . . . a memsahib. “He sat back, and all amusement left his face. His tone bordered on dryness. “I daresay you’ve forgotten all that entails. No fear, the wife of your husband’s colonel—your burra-memsahib—will be only too pleased to instruct you on the protocols of being a proper memsahib.”
Their shared laughter had disappeared as if snatched by the flock of green parrots swooping over their heads. But as though he remembered his manners, the major lifted Cam onto his knee, his well-oiled Sam Browne belt creaking as he did. The man and the boy immersed themselves in conversation. Interspersed with Cam’s piping voice she caught the hint of a Northumberland burr in Geoff Richards’ speech. His crisp, English school accent must be a learned one, like Nick’s.
She had enough of an ear to recognize her husband had worked hard to gain that polished manner of speaking, but she knew next to nothing of Nick’s youth. Six weeks wasn’t long enough to know a man.
Bombay’s traffic bustled past. Her fingers itched to pull out the telegram she’d folded into her bag at the pier. But there was no need. The words were stamped on her mind. Nick hadn’t said much, but at least he’d acknowledged they were coming. She had to cling to that, to keep believing they’d become a real family, given time. Perhaps have more children. Cam would have brothers and sisters, a houseful of them . . . and love. Not the existence she’d had growing up in Albany under the disinterested eye of her mother’s only sister.
She’d waited four years. The train trip would take three days. Only three more days, and all she longed for would be waiting for her in Amritsar.

Christine Lindsay is an Irish-born writer, 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 grandfather—yes father and son—were 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 great ship.
It was stories of her ancestors who served in the British Cavalry in Colonial India that inspired her historical series Twilight of the British Raj of which Book 1 Shadowed in Silk has won several awards, and Book 2 Captured by Moonlight. Christine is currently writing the final installment of that series called Veiled at Midnight to be released August 2014.
Also coming out February 2014 is Londonderry Dreaming, a romance novella set in Londonderry Northern Ireland, not far from Christine’s birthplace.
Her newest release is a short Christmas story, Heavenly Haven, has just been released as an Ebook Oct. 15, 2013.
Christine makes her home in British Columbia, on the west coast of Canada with her husband and their grown up family. Her cat Scottie is chief editor on all Christine’s books.
Please drop by Christine’s website
Follow her on Twitter and be her friend on Pinterest and Facebook

Tuesday, May 19, 2015

And the WINNER is . . .

The winner of Emma Broch Stuart's book, BROKEN UMBRELLAS, is Shannan Stevens!


Shannan, be sure to check your email for further instructions.

May you be blessed by Emma's story.

Friday, May 15, 2015

Book GIVEAWAY: "Broken Umbrellas"

Please welcome new author, Emma Broch Stuart (and best friend, a.k.a. "Flower"). I'm so excited to FINALLY be able to host my bestest friend on my blog! This is a lady who has a heart for people, who loves those who are downtrodden, who is willing to bend over backwards, upside down, and inside out to help another in need. This is my Flower. She blooms wherever she's planted. I'm so honored to have her as my guest today!

In her book Broken Umbrellas, Emma shares her passion for seeing women and men released from bondage and healed from relational wounds.  Her newly released book, BrokenUmbrellas, takes the reader on her personal journey from the pit of despair and brokenness to the healing arms of Jesus. Along the way, she allows the reader an intimate look into the relationship baggage she hauled around most of her life from relationship to relationship—even crossing the Atlantic with it—before surrendering to God’s radical healing. 

1.   Tell us a little more about your nonfiction.

Well Sandi, as you know, once upon a time, brokenness claimed so many areas of my life, and every one of those areas were relational in nature: bitterness and shame from past intimate relationships; wounds and scars from abuse; insecurities from relating with women I felt had it together when I did not; feelings of failure as a mother. It was all relationship stuff. When I realized that humanity tries to relate with one another in spite of their brokenness, God asked me to write about my own personal struggle with broken areas of my life. And voilà! Broken Umbrellas was born.

2.     What was the driving force behind writing Broken Umbrellas?

This is a good question. I feel most people are really bad at one thing in life like sports, or math, or sewing. For me it was relationships. Even becoming a Christian didn’t save me from a broken marriage. And I kept asking myself, “Why can’t I get this right?” And God showed me that when we have unhealthy hearts, we have unhealthy relationships. (That goes for friendship relationships too.) Then he took me on an incredible 13-month journey that healed me in the most radical way. I wrote Broken Umbrellas because I don’t believe I’m the only one who has struggled with relationships.

3.     What do you want your readers to take away from reading your book?

Hope. Pure and simple, yet profound hope. Hope for all their hurting relationships and a desire to be healed, healthy individuals. I want my readers to see—and believe—that God is bigger than any brokenness they have suffered or caused. And I pray Broken Umbrellas is a tool to bring my readers into a deeper knowing of God, the only one who can heal them.

4.     What writing projects are you working on now?

I’m working with WhiteFire Publishing on a fun and inspiring  piece called Barn Doors. Barn Doors is a collection of short stories about everyday life and how God speaks to me . . . and how I hear him. It releases next spring.

I also have a children’s series with DeWard Publishing called The Keeper Series. The Windkeeper is the first in the series and looks to be ready for this fall. An illustrator has it as we speak, bringing my words to colorful life. The Starkeeper will follow, and The Rainkeeper will complete the series. One way God speaks to me is through the pages of his Word, and I incorporate that into these stories.

5.     Where can readers learn more about your book?

Broken Umbrellas is for sale on Amazon in paperback and Kindle version. Here’s a link!

6.     How can readers connect with you?

I LOVE connecting with people! Readers can find my blog on my website:

They can also find updates on my Facebook author page:


Or by emailing me:

7.     Where did you get the name Broken Umbrellas?

At my precious grandson’s funeral, I spotted a broken blue umbrella flapping in the winter wind. The woman holding it was oblivious to the fact that snow was falling on her. When she moved her broken umbrella to offer protection to the man beside her, my heart was overwhelmed with the symbolism of humanity doing the same thing—“protecting” (or loving, serving, relating) in spite of our brokenness.

8.     Tell us about living overseas.

Out of all my experiences living overseas, one of my absolute favorite and cherished experiences is meeting my Sandi Flower. She lived in Holland, me in France. She and her family visited me, I went and visited her. She and I met in Paris one weekend where we climbed the stairs of the Eiffel Tower to the middle level, we painted our toenails on the lawn outside Sacre Cœur, oh and picnicked under an umbrella beside the Louvre. Goodness we had so much fun! We packed a lot of memories in those few days.

I’m not sure Sandi wants me to share the story of how I lost her—for over an hour!—in the middle of Avignon in the south of France. It was one of the worst feelings in the world when I couldn’t find her. I left her on a street corner to run into the tourist office for a map, and I “circled around the block” only the block turned into a maze that made it impossible for me to find her until I parked and searched on foot. I was bawling as I ran toward her, and she laughed at me! It took me a long time to be able to laugh about that.

***Sandi's reply: No, I don't mind you sharing that, Flower. I was laughing as you drove off, thinking, "I wonder if she'll really be able to just "circle around the block." LOL Too funny! During that time, I got hit on by another foreigner, so it was good for my pride and low self-image. :-)

***Back to Wendy: Now that I think about it, she and I haven’t spent a great deal of time face to face in our 10-year friendship. Our friendship has blossomed mainly by doing laundry together over the phone, praying over the phone, celebrating and grieving together over the phone. Sandi and I fleshed out a lot of scenes over the phone when she was writing The Master’s Wall. I feel personally attached to those characters. It just goes to show you how God can bring people together despite distance. It’s a heart thing, and that is so beautiful. 

I credit a lot of who I am today on my experiences in Europe. There’s something about getting out of your comfort zone that forces you to relate differently, engage in the world around you at a different level. And most importantly, see beyond yourself. I have dipped my toes in the Mediterranean, hiked mountains in the French Alps, drank wine with my baguette and cheese, breastfed under the Eiffel Tower, and made a complete fool of myself many times as I butchered the language. I have been misunderstood, ignored, lost in a big city, and served fish with the head still attached. But I have also been kissed by complete strangers, given free bus rides when I didn’t have exact change, served delicious cuisine, and most importantly, blessed with knowing Christ at a deeper level. My daughter was born there, my first grandchild buried there, and collected more than a decade of memories—both good and bad.

Living in a foreign country shows you just how strong you really are.

9.     What inspires you to write?

Everything! Seriously, I am so awed at the world around me, people and seasons, humanity and compassion, love and tears. I always want to look with eyes that really see. See beyond the surface to the beauty that is often hidden. I’ve been on the battlefield and I know that is why I love and live and dream with a fierceness that carries over into my writing. Sometimes I think I could fill an entire book about how a dandelion touches me. ha, ha  They are such a sight for sore eyes after a long winter, yellow dots spring up and feed the bees, and droop in chubby hands as a bouquet of flowers for mama.  And oh how us mamas love them. Yes, God uses everything to inspire me.

The following are questions taken from guests at Emma’s launch party

What advice would you give to an aspiring writer?

Write what you are passionate about, what is bubbling from the heart. I would also say to not worry about mistakes, or an outline, or anything else. Just write! The rest will come.

How does your family feel about you writing a book that shares your journey to healing?

I relied on God to help me word things just right so the reader sees the healing more than the pain, and I was very respectful of anyone I talked about, showing that I am in a good place, a godly place. I had to be vague in a few areas, and that’s okay! The reader will understand that. I have never prayed about anything more in my life than Broken Umbrellas. Well, maybe prayers for my children outnumber prayers for BU.

Who would you consider to be your writing mentors or authors who inspire you?

I admire every single author at WhiteFire, they are the best group of people ever! I also admire anyone—published or not—with the courage to write and share their story. Published authors who inspire me are Beth Moore, Carolyn Custis James, and Francis Chan—to name a few.

What was your favorite part about writing this book?

The blessings God poured over me as I wrote it is by far my favorite part. Also discovering a few areas that hadn’t quite healed, and God using my own writing to encourage me to turn those areas over to him.

Also, making my chapter titles unique and relevant to the content of each chapter was a lot of fun.

When did you know you had to write this book?

I knew in May 2010 that God wanted me to write this. And he confirmed it so very sweetly through a lovely friend. I share that confirmation in a middle chapter of Broken Umbrellas.  The truly amazing part? When God confirmed it, I was smack dab in the middle of my healing journey, and there was no way I could string even 10 words into a comprehensible sentence. But God used two words that brought me so much comfort. He told me we were going to do this healing thing and then we were going to write about it. And then. Believe me, I didn’t believe I could write it! And God carried me all the way through to this very day where I’m here talking about it to all of you. YAY God!

Did you have an outline? How did you put the chapters together to make sense?

I wrote the beginning to the middle and then took a few days to process all of that. Lots of tears as I relived those old wounds. Lots of grateful prayers for how far I’ve come. When I was ready to start where I left off, I felt led to write from the end and meet up in the middle. No outline, just wrote what leapt out of my heart and organized as I went along, which goes against my OCD for organizing, list making, and “going in order.”

Why did you choose to write under a penname?

Because Broken Umbrellas gives the reader a very intimate and vulnerable look at my past, I chose to write under a penname out of respect for the people I speak about. Of course, I did not have to, and if any of them were to read my book, I have written it in a respectful way that they should not take offense. And I have decided to keep my penname for all of my writing projects. The name Emma Broch Stuart is very special to me; it is the middle name of each of my 3 children.

When writing for the Lord, he often reveals things to us we didn’t know when we started. What’s something you learned about God or yourself during this process?

There are so many things that I have learned! One would be that He is trustworthy. He makes beauty out of ashes. And I am never too broken or lost to come back to Him and be redeemed, restored, and repaired.

Leave a comment along with your email address written like this: YourEmail AT gmail DOT com, and you will be entered into a drawing to win Emma’s book Broken Umbrellas.

The winner will be announced next week!