Teatime for the Firefly
Published by Harlequin
“Effortlessly transports readers back to India on the brink of independence . . . fans of women’s romantic fiction will be enchanted.” —Booklist, starred review
My name is Layla and I was born under an unlucky star. For a young girl growing up in India, this is bad news. But everything began to change for me one spring day in 1943, when three unconnected incidents, like tiny droplets on a lily leaf, tipped and rolled into one. It was that tiny shift in the cosmos, I believe, that tipped us together—me and Manik Deb.
Despite being born under an inauspicious horoscope, Layla Roy is raised to be educated and independent. By cleverly manipulating the hand fortune has dealt her, she finds love with Manik Deb—a man betrothed to another. All were minor miracles in India that spring of 1943, when women’s lives were predetermined—if not by the stars, then by centuries of family tradition and social order.
Layla’s life as a married woman takes her into the jungles of Assam, where the world’s finest tea thrives on plantations run by native labor and British efficiency. Fascinated by the culture of expats who seem unfazed by earthquakes and man-eating leopards, she struggles to find her place among the prickly English wives, and the servants now under her charge.
Navigating the tea-garden set won’t be her biggest challenge. Powerful changes are sweeping India on the heels of WWII. Colonial society is at a tipping point, and Layla and Manik are caught in a perilous racial divide that threatens their very lives.
“A lyrical novel that touches on themes both huge and intimate.” —Kirkus Reviews
My name is Layla and I was born under an unlucky star. For a young girl growing up in India, this is bad news. But everything began to change for me one spring day in 1943, when three unconnected incidents, like tiny droplets on a lily leaf, tipped and rolled into one. It was that tiny shift in the cosmos, I believe, that tipped us together—me and Manik Deb.
Despite being born under an inauspicious horoscope, Layla Roy is raised to be educated and independent. By cleverly manipulating the hand fortune has dealt her, she finds love with Manik Deb—a man betrothed to another. All were minor miracles in India that spring of 1943, when women’s lives were predetermined—if not by the stars, then by centuries of family tradition and social order.
Layla’s life as a married woman takes her into the jungles of Assam, where the world’s finest tea thrives on plantations run by native labor and British efficiency. Fascinated by the culture of expats who seem unfazed by earthquakes and man-eating leopards, she struggles to find her place among the prickly English wives, and the servants now under her charge.
Navigating the tea-garden set won’t be her biggest challenge. Powerful changes are sweeping India on the heels of WWII. Colonial society is at a tipping point, and Layla and Manik are caught in a perilous racial divide that threatens their very lives.
“A lyrical novel that touches on themes both huge and intimate.” —Kirkus Reviews
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