Description:

Who is the intriguing Englishwoman that seeks him out there? Journalist Hannah Petersen is being pursued across India by a sinister killer—but why?

This exotic tale of love across cultural boundaries unfolds within the mystical heat of Southern India, Sri Lanka and the icy countryside of England in winter. The lives of two strangers are turned upside down when they meet and are threatened by the aftermath of a common tragedy many years before.

"The combination of cliff-hangers and carefully observed descriptions of Indian traditions, food, temples and landscapes becomes utterly irresistible. Will appeal to anyone who enjoys a skilfully constructed page-turner." —Sophia Furber, The London Student Newspaper

"A wonderfully written love story set in Southern India. A captivating read." — Shelf review, Ottakar’s Bookshop, Guildford

"Fantastic read—I read it within a day. Couldn't put it down. Good knowledge of cultures from writer without it being pushed down our throats. We get so close to the characters. Loved it!" Gill James, author of Lines in the Sand and Jason's Crystal

Excerpt:

They explored the temple site, the hot stones preventing them from lingering at each shrine for more than a minute, and then only by hopping constantly from foot to foot, until overwhelmed by the forces of nature and man, one ferocious, the other sublime, their animated spirits could barely prop up their exhausted limbs.

They came out onto the village road and hurried into the shade of a roadside workshop, where a stone carver crouched on the ground putting the finishing touches to a fist-sized, blue-gray soapstone Ganesh. Around him stood the fruits of his previous labors, gods and goddesses of every shape and size, some scarcely bigger than a thumbnail, others huge enough to stand alone upon a temple floor or grace the household shrine of a wealthy family.

“Stone-cutting is a specialty of this region,” Ashok said.

Hannah picked up the newly completed Ganesh. Her eyes traveled over the reclining figure’s curved lines and the curling trunk of the elephant head. “He’s perfect. He should be the god of happiness.” She ran her finger over the smooth surface of the stone.

“He who is attired in a white garment…” Ashok took the figure gently from Hannah and smiled at her with his eyes. “…and has the complexion of the moon; on him we meditate for the removal of obstacles.”

Hannah’s eyes smiled back at him, awe-inspiring and yet awed, radiating desire and allure in equal measure.

“It is part of a prayer to Lord Ganesha,” Ashok said. He broke free from her gaze. He hated himself for what he had to do.

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