Christine's Got a Brand New Baby

If a writer knows the subject and setting well, the story comes to life. With this new baby of mine, Sofi’s Bridge, I’d like to take you on a tour of my beautiful home close to the Cascade Mountains that bridge Washington State and British Columbia, Canada.

In my opinion I live in one of the prettiest places in the world, often compared

Wood carvings featured
in homestead of Sofi's Bridge.

to the Swiss Alps. Since I literally live only 3 miles as far as the crow flies from the US border, I used my own valley and created a fictional vale in Washington State. I did this only to give the book an American setting since those readers make up the majority of the market. But just between me and you, the story is really set in Canada. But shhhh, let’s keep that a secret.

Below are 3 scenes in which I used my province to create the fictional town of Orchard in the US.

~*~

The view from my dining room window.

Sunlight slanted from the west as they entered the valley. Farms created a velvet patchwork, and the tang of recently mown hay sweetened the air. The opposite side of the bridge met them at the entrance to town, where the hammers of steelworkers driving rivets into the trusses rang like a welcome home.

Neil stopped at the crossroads.

Sofi savored the outskirts of the town she’d spent most of her childhood summers. Already her spirits lifted. A high-wheeled freight wagon rolled toward Gronberg’s livery stable. Railway lines would make it so much easier to transports goods in and out of Orchard. But there were things she hoped would never change—the red and white awning of Helsing’s mercantile, the steeple of a white clapboard church that sought the sky. With a quiet nod, she motioned to Neil to take the road following this side of the gorge.

~*~

Sofi’s Bridge starts out though in Seattle, which I drive to a few times each year, so again I know the location well. Here’s another snipped created from my own memories driving out of Seattle and heading north.

~*~

Puget Sound

A rising sun melted the morning fog. Where the roads were good, the Cadillac ran smoothly at thirty-five miles per hour. Not so with the out-of-the-way paths

Sofi chose, taking them through cultivated farmlands that hugged the water.

Neil kept to a low speed to avoid jarring as the thin tires travelled the rutted byways. They’d come almost forty miles. Now a smattering of small islands floated on the intense blue of Puget Sound. To the northeast, rolling mountains furred with evergreens gradually molded higher and higher. Ireland wasn’t the only emerald land, but his halfhearted smile faltered when he glanced at Sofi.

~*~

A romantic scene from the book is set in one of my favorite places in all the world, taken directly from my visits to the Alpine Meadow in Manning Park BC,

just across the border from the same glorious Cascade Mountains in Washington State. In fact, each summer I look out on the US side from this location when I go to view the alpine flowers at their peak in mid-July.

~*~

At the summit they reined the Clydesdales under a shady tree. The wind, carrying a clean pine fragrance, blew unimpeded as though they’d reached the top of the world and grasses swayed in the breeze.

Neil walked with Sofi along a pathway strewn on either side with blue and purple lupine, pink phlox, yellow arnica, and red Indian paintbrush. In the distance, pale blue and turquoise ice from glaciers filled crevices between serrated granite heights. Quiet awe filled his face as he swept his gaze three hundred and sixty degrees and studied the glaciers that though they were miles away seemed close enough to touch. Above the tree line, gray peaks scraped the sky, some still capped with snow.

Sofi could only hope that up here for a while he could let go of whatever pain he was hiding from the world, and from her.

Read the first chapter of Sofi’s Bridge for free by clicking HERE.

SOFI’S BRIDGE by Christine Lindsay

Seattle Debutant Sofi Andersson will do everything in her power to protect her sister who is suffering from shock over their father’s death. Charles, the family busy-body, threatens to lock Trina in a sanatorium—a whitewashed term for an

insane asylum—so Sofi will rescue her little sister, even if it means running away to the Cascade Mountains with only the new gardener Neil Macpherson to protect them. But in a cabin high in the Cascades, Sofi begins to recognize that the handsome immigrant from Ireland harbors secrets of his own. Can she trust this man whose gentle manner brings such peace to her traumatized sister and such tumult to her own emotions? And can Neil, the gardener, continue to hide from Sofi that he is really Dr. Neil Galloway, a man wanted for murder by the British police? Only an act of faith and love will bridge the distance that separates lies from truth and safety.

PURCHASE LINKS for Sofi’s Bridge Paper & Ebooks

AMAZON.com 

Barnes and Noble

Pelican Book Group

About Christine:

Christine Lindsay is the author of multi-award-winning Christian fiction. Tales of her Irish ancestors who served in the British Cavalry in Colonial India inspired her multi-award-winning trilogy Twilight of the British Raj, Book 1 Shadowed in Silk, Book 2 Captured by Moonlight, and explosive finale Veiled at Midnight.

Christine’s Irish wit and use of setting as a character is evident in her contemporary romance Londonderry Dreaming and newest release Sofi’s Bridge. 

A busy writer and speaker, Christine and her husband live on the west coast of Canada. Coming August 2016 is the release of Christine’s non-fiction book Finding Sarah—Finding Me: A Birthmother’s Story.

Connect with Christine:

Please drop by Christine’s website www.ChristineLindsay.org or follow her on Amazon on Twitter. Subscribe to her quarterly newsletter, and be her friend on Pinterest , Facebook, and  Goodreads

Pacific Ocean in a Bottle

Some friends here in Tennessee, where I currently live, took a trip to my hometown in Washington State. Before their departure, they kindly asked if there was anything they could bring back for me. I chuckled and facetiously answered, “Sure . . . the Pacific Ocean, if your luggage can manage.”

I miss Washington State. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve appreciated living in other places in the world, each spectacular and beautiful in their own right. Nevertheless, you’ve heard the saying, “Home is where the heart is. . . .”? Well, my family is there, most of my close friends with whom I grew up are there, my heart is there, and therefore the Pacific Northwest is and will probably always be home (in the earthly sense) . . . despite the fact that I’ve lived elsewhere for over ten years.

Southern friends joke with me about retaining such fondness for the “Left Coast,” or the arty, somewhat isolationist leaning views that are indicative of the culture. But, hey!—I have family members who happen to hold political offices in the name of conservatism, so it all balances out.

My homesickness is magnified by the fact that I frequently dream of Washington, especially over the past couple of years. While various pristine images fill my night visions, it’s the dark, frigid, blue-black waters that consume my sleep the most. That accompanied with ferryboats, rocky beaches, sisters laughing hysterically, windbreakers guarding against the drizzle and chill of the salty sea breeze, and that warm, fuzzy feeling of familiarity and the sense of belonging. This is where I grew up . . . .

Nostalgia is a bittersweet thing. I value where I’m at, the good people here, and the mode of life. It’s gorgeous. Warm a lot. And as a Christian, I downright appreciate the sense of religious freedom that overflows in this, the Bible Belt. I treasure it enough that I made my debut novel’s protagonist proudly hail from Sweetwater, Tennessee. This local environment also inspired my published short story.

Having said that, still, nothing will beat home. In addition, I miss the colorful Northwest cuisine where seafood is fresh, vegetables prepared al dente, and salads are unmistakable and unique, amid an assortment of other superfluous items which strike my fancy. Such as coffee—strong—the way it’s supposed to be; enough to cut through fog that rolls in off the bay. Although it’s well-known, Tennesseans have their tea down to perfection, no questions there. Sweet!

When my Tennessean friends returned from their trip to Washington State, they surprised me with three ounces of the Pacific. Having gone out on a typical cold and rainy day, they purchased a blue bottle, jogged down to the beach, and filled as much as they could in adherence with the current flight regulations. So yes, they slipped a bit of the ocean into their luggage! Deeply touched by their gesture, my eyes pooled when they gave it to me. Crazy about the gift, I untwisted the cap, took a whiff, and even dipped a finger into the liquid just to get the tang of salt and seaweed on my tongue. I’m not a sailor, but “Arrrggghhh!” just the same (I can’t say that without squinting an eye, especially one that’s tear infused).

While I’d wish my backyard the sea if I had my druthers, I’ll take what I can get. The Pacific Ocean now sits on my dresser in a bottle. I glance at it everyday. Yes, home is where the heart is. Right now it’s all wrapped up in a nifty blue container that seems to beckon every time I walk by. That, and in the thoughtfulness of individuals (like I said, there are good people here), whom by a simple act of collecting a three-ounce sample spoke volumes . . . an ocean’s worth.

A professional dancer turned novelist, Tessa is the author of the romance/political intrigue novel, The Unforgivable (RisenFiction/April 2011), and a literary romance short story, Love and Lull (Digital Dragon Magazine/August 2010), with more in the works. Visit her at http://www.tessastockton.com/ or http://www.monsterforgiveness.blogspot.com/