Immigrant "Captured Moon"

Updated: Sep 7, 2020

Following her heart's desire, Diana rushes to her lover's side. Once there she encounters a twist of fate consisting of lust and Pride. Moon tries to find an escape; before any signs of an enviable demise


Immigrant: Captured Moon is a phenomenal, addictive, brilliant piece of fiction that left me shocked and astonished. Never before have I read such a unique, imaginative, enthralling piece of literature; T.J. Phull, the author of this sensational novel, is incredibly talented because she knows just how to capture her reader's imagination from the very first page.

 Editorial  Review : "As I read this book, I struggled to put it down, so much so that I found myself reading it into the early hours of the morning thanks to Phull's incredible talent to hold the reader's attention. Already I would implore you book lovers to read this book because it is incredibly unique and unlike anything you have read before." "The story of Immigrant: Captured Moon is a thought-provoking and thrilling one that is multi-layered and fast-paced. The incredible novel weaves themes that are quite simply mind-blowing. Stories that have a compelling nature are my favorite kind of reads, and Phull has hit the right spot with this wonderful book of hers. She has managed to weave poignant themes with engaging, dynamic characters and interweave both to make an astonishing piece of fiction that is both addictive and fast-paced."  "Every detail in Immigrant: Captured Moon is superb and thought out, Phull is a descriptive writer and so the reader is easily able to get lost in her words and imagine the places in this book perfectly.

Never before have I read a contemporary fiction novel that was so in-depth

Never before have I read a contemporary fiction novel that was so in-depth, truly every detail was immaculate, and this is rare to find these days within literature. Granted, these novels, in general, are detailed, but I think these details are bad for the story because the book becomes more like a manual than a piece of fiction." Phull, however, manages to write details into this novel that benefit the novel instead of ruin it, she has struck a perfect balance, and for that I am thankful." T.J. Phull is a talented author and a genuine wordsmith. Her tale is gripping and consistent from beginning to end. As the reader reads this book, they will be taken on an unforgettable journey which will unfold bit by bit at a perfect pace that will keep the reader engrossed.  Phull's vivid writing will enable the reader to fall madly in love with this book and be kept hooked because you simply can't help but do this! The fluidity alone in her book is sensational and unlike anything I have read before, never once did I find myself getting bored of the story or even the characters. Phull managed to continually shock and surprise me thanks to her fantastic plot devices such as twists and turns. Overall Phull is a talent to watch out for!

To summarize my thoughts on this charismatic novel 

To summarize my thoughts on this charismatic novel  I would say if you are a reader who Is tired of reading the same old books that are lackluster and forgettable then take a chance with this one because I promise you now that you will not be disappointed! This wonderful book gets Five Stars from me!"

Thank you so much for reading

Thank you so much for reading, I deeply appreciate it and love discussing wonderful books with all of you so please, comment below and let me know your thoughts on Immigrant: Captured Moon; do you see yourself reading this book? Is it not your usual cup of tea? Let me know all of those brilliant thoughts of yours below! Thank you so much again for reading! Goodbye for now book lovers, 

Immigrant "Captured Moon"

God, I couldn’t move. I had to get up, but the room was spinning so wildly, and I was in so much pain. I was so drunk I couldn’t fight back, and if I did, what would have happened? The pain between my legs was killing me. I remembered all. But where did he take me? He said outside New Delhi. How could he have done this to me and allowed them to force themselves on me while he cowered in the corner. Oh god, it’s so hot. I can’t breathe. I am not sure if I am in Africa or India. Damn. I want to kill that son of a bitch! Where is he anyway? Wait until I find out where I am exactly.

I couldn’t believe he allowed his friends to do this to me. I felt like I would throw up my insides. My mom tried to warn me, but I didn’t listen. I was so in love, three years communicating with him. Why would he do this to me? God, why didn’t I see this coming! I trusted him so much, loved him so much. Oh god, help me. I can’t believe I had texted him at the airport, “Come and get me, sweetie, I am waiting for you.” I was so blind, perhaps mindless, with no rational thought but love. And he had texted me, “I love you, baby. I can’t wait until we see each other in the real. I have been waiting forever to meet you. Can’t believe that God allows me to finally meet you, Diana.” Ah, what sweet words those had been.

But now I saw that was just to a draw me in, giving me more reasons to trust in him and in his love so I would not sense any deceptions. It worked, for when I saw him standing with a sign, I thought, Aah, how cute. I was so excited. He was more handsome than his pictures had showed—much more actually. And he was taller than I perceived. He looked so sexy in his turban. I greeted him. He smiled so boyishly, so shy-like. Why didn’t I see this was a lie? I followed him through a crowd of travelers and a double line of people holding up signs with people’s names. As I passed them, I asked him why he brought a sign—couldn’t he remember my face?

He laughed. “No, just in case you couldn’t recognize me. We all seem similar to foreigners.”

I laughed and said, “Might be, but I know my man.”

He took my hand and kissed it. Charming, I thought. Before we reached the outside of the airport, we had passed a few storefronts advertising tours, hotels, and bus services. I had followed Blake to the outside, but once I stepped outside, the heat had hit me like an oven, and I felt like I was a baked potato. Gasping for air, I allowed my body to quickly adjust to the oxygen. There were more people holding signs, and roll upon roll of cabs.

I looked around and thought, So this is what India looks like. It resembled the Bronx and Queens to me. Well, at least the people. Similar turbans, dots on the brows—hell, even cabs! There were even some Africans there. Hmmm, interesting, I thought. They had looked at me, following behind Blake, but not weirdly. The smell of the air was rather uniquely dusty, yet earthy with a little salt and musk. It was not bad at all but something too different, something to get used to. Finally, we had reached his car, and it was a nice damn car! I had expected his car to look something like the cabs.

The cabs and busses looked like they were from the 1920s or something. I wondered how the hell they kept these things moving. But his car was silver and modern. I was impressed. I didn’t even have a car. He approached his car first and opened the door, and as I was about to enter, I had seen that there were three individuals already sitting in the backseat. I felt a little odd, not because of the extra individuals but because I was sitting where in America would be a steering wheel. It just felt off.

When Blake got in the car, he had introduced me to his gang. He said, “This is Nevil, my best friend, and my brother, Kole.” I was taken aback a bit. He looked just like Blake. Blake also said, “And this here is my friend Amin.”

I had given an uncomfortable hello. I didn’t expect this, nor did he tell me that he was bringing company along. But again, even with these people, I didn’t expect anything was wrong. He started driving, and the air was a little dry and dusty for me, so he closed the window and put on the air condition.

He said, “Sorry for the dust. Indian dust is good for the skin,” and they all started laughing. I just said OK, and Blake said, “No, really. Do you know why?”

And I said, “No, I do not.”

He said, “Because people just shit in the street, and it dries up and flies into your hair, mouth, everywhere.”

I was like, “Oh my god! Seriously!” and they laughed.

He said, “This is shit land. If you are born here, you are cursed.”

I looked out the window, and I thought it was quite beautiful. And I felt happy and at peace, so I disagreed with him. To me, it was like Americans who complain about America, but no damn way would they ever leave or trade for another country. As he was driving, the other three men were conversing and laughing loudly in their language.

The only one that wasn’t engaging had been Nevil. He looked as if there was a lot on his mind. This fellow looked smart and nerdy but in a handsome way. I remember Blake always talking about him. He was a cop. But I never thought I would get to meet him. Blake’s brother, Kole, was so similar to his brother, down to the laugh, except his eyebrows arched like the devil. And he was not overly muscled like Blake.

Sometimes, when Blake sent me pictures of himself at the gym, I felt he was overdoing it a bit. Blake wanted to drive me around a bit, but I didn’t want to. I allowed him anyway. I tried not to be judgmental about anything. I just wanted to absorb all that was being shown to me without comparing it to where I came from. I had wanted to be like a newborn baby, so I had cleared and opened my mind. I wanted to see things with new perspectives.

I couldn’t engage in most of the things they were saying, for they spoke really, really fast. Acknowledging that I was linguistically dumb, they did, however, ask me questions in English. I didn’t realize how poor Blake’s English was. I never realized. His friend had to ask the questions, and when I answered, he translated it. Sorry, but his friend had seemed very sinister and evil to me. It was something in his glances, the way he smiled. It was creepy.

But all these years, has Blake been using a translator? I wondered. Well, I tried to listen the best I could, just to try to pick up some key words. Ever feel like someone is talking behind your back? Well, I had gotten that feeling a lot during this ride.

My sweetheart said in a thick accent, “After I take you on tour around New Delhi, then I can take you to exchange money, and we can shop and eat if you like.”

I felt excited and happy and started to feel safe. I meant, who wouldn’t? I had a cop and three other men as my bodyguards. Also, since we left the airport, there was nothing but cops all around everywhere. I felt I was in cop land.

I was so happy to be in India. I felt free. Sitting back, I smiled and watched everyone I could set eyes on. I watched how they exchanged conversation and how they walked. There were kids in the street, selling things, so I watched them run up to the car and tap the window. I even watched them watching me. I didn’t know why Blake was always talking bad about India. This was always the land of my dreams. I told him I would move here with him—that was how much I loved him. I would have packed up my kids and moved to India—that was how much he meant to me. And being here with him had been important because I got to see how he behaved in his own environment.

I loved Blake. I would have done anything for him. He would always say “Oh, you’ll do anything? Even live in the street with shit?” I never understood what he was talking about until now. As we drove, he showed me various places, like the Indian version of the White House, where the president lived. That was freaking awesome! It was beautiful. This area was more modern, but of course, a lot of visitors come to see it. Then he took me to where there were actual monkeys on the sidewalk. Holy shit! You couldn’t see that in America! I love this freaking place.

After a while, I was getting sort of tired, but he wanted to continue with the tour. Grrrrrrrrr! He had showed me some sights and the Lotus temple; as well as a very large Hanuman Statue and some little shops. As he finished, he wanted to know if I wanted to exchange money and buy something.