What I'm up to these days.

MaryLu Tyndall, bestselling author of The Legacy of the King’s Pirates Series has this to say about Veiled at Midnight,

“Rarely do I find a book that touches my soul in such a deep place.”

Saturday, July 11, 2015

COMING SOON ---- SOFI'S BRIDGE by Christine Lindsay

STAY TUNED FOR RELEASE DATE




I just completed the final readthrough of the galleys for my next book, Sofi's Bridge, the release date is still to be decided by the publisher, Pelican Book Group, but here's the front cover. I am so delighted with the design. 

SOFI'S BRIDGE

Seattle Debutant Sofi Andersson has to protect her sister, who is suffering from delayed shock over their father’s drowning.

Her mother and her father’s business partner are conspiring to put Trina in a sanitarium. Sofi packs Trina up and runs away to the Cascade Mountains.

But the family’s new gardener, Neil Macpherson, a handsome immigrant from Ireland, hitches a ride. Hidden in a cabin high in the Cascades, just as Sofi keeps her secrets, she recognizes her gardener does too. Can she trust this man whose gentle manner brings such peace to her traumatized sister, and such tumult to her own emotions?

And can their gardener, Neil, continue to hide from Sofi that he is really Dr. Neil Galloway, wanted for murder and on the run from the British police?


Monday, April 06, 2015

FLAMBOYANT HISTORY SETS THE BACKDROP

In my latest novel Veiled at Midnight, the research on Lord Louis Mountbatten, the last British Viceroy to Colonial India, swept me away. 

Mountbatten was Queen Elizabeth’s older cousin, a great favorite of the Royal Family.  BELOW IS AN EXCERPT from Veiled at Midnight as seen through the eyes of my fictional character Captain Cam Fraser, when Lord Mountbatten is sworn in as the last Viceroy.

~*~

A signal from the head Aide-de-Camp let Cam know that the Viceroy and his wife had arrived, and waited outside the closed bronze doors.

Inside, the marble Durbar Hall echoed with the buzz of hundreds of hushed human voices. British in impeccable suits, dignitaries from around the world, Sikh leaders in European suits with silk turbans, Indians in Rajput coats, Gandhi hats, Muslim prayer caps, all seated on plush velvet and gilded chairs. Gandhi was not in attendance, being unwilling to leave Calcutta where his presence kept some peace. As for the rest, whatever their religion they all seemed to hold their breath, waiting for the man they hoped, they prayed, would guide India to self-government without them tearing themselves apart.


From the top of the roof outside the palace, came the shattering blare of trumpets.

The doors of the Durbar Hall opened and the tall, elegant form of Louis Francis Albert Victor Nicholas Mountbatten, 1st Earl Mountbatten of Burma began to walk up the carpeted aisle, his wife at his side. Cam’s throat closed with pride. The last Viceroy, wearing his dress naval whites, his dark blue ribbon designating him as a Knight of the Garter, and his array of orders and decorations covering his chest was something, someone, to be proud of. Nehru himself had requested Mountbatten for his diplomacy and personal knowledge of India.

Lady Mountbatten matched her husband’s stride, in her long simple gown of white silk. She wore a tiara and a ribbon crossed from shoulder to waist that held the New Order of the Crown of India, and her own array of medals earned during the war for her humanitarian work.

The two walked side by side up the aisle toward the gilded thrones waiting on a low dais. Behind the thrones, rich red hangings hid lighting that cast the hall in superb dignity. This was British India. The country Cam called home. Not that small green island—England—thousands of miles to the north, but this massive dusty, vibrant mosaic of a subcontinent.


The Durbar throne room.


~*~




Lady Mountbatten also captured my fascination. An English heiress, a socialite, this woman of dubious moral fiber started her married life wasting years in frivolity with a long string of lovers. It wasn’t until WW2 that she started making her mark on the world with humanitarian aid. For that, I came to respect her. 

Lady Mountbatten worked tirelessly for St. John’s Ambulance and the Red Cross. In Veiled at Midnight I focus on the charitable work she did during the traumatic Partition of India in 1947 when India was torn apart as Britain handed over independence.

Here is another short excerpt, again from the perspective of fictional Captain Cam Fraser
~*~

In conjunction with her husband, Lady Mountbatten began to issue sharp orders as she conferred with local civil servants. Standing in the midst of the charred remains of this village, she arranged for medical help for those few who had escaped the slaughter, and though terribly wounded, still breathed. Food would be flown in, outdoor kitchens set up to feed the multitudes of displaced people trickling in from other villages.


While it was true that in only one month the new Viceroy had done what previous Viceroy’s had been unable to do—break the deadlock between the two main political parties—Partition, now with a capital P was becoming a reality. Bloodshed in the north had escalated to a pitch Cam had seen only in war. The word Pakistan was slashed in green paint on the doors of houses of unearthly quiet towns with its lives and voices snuffed out.


Like the mother and child half buried beneath that pile of blackened bricks two feet away from Cam. A few clay toys strewn around, close to the child’s hand where her rag doll lay filthy in the ashes.



That image, not the sun bearing down on Cam’s cap, brought a wave of sickness. His own wife could be in any small town like this. He could only pray with heat-scorched breath that she was safe in some quiet backwater, if there was such a thing in India these days. Or that she wore a cross around her neck. Some said that pretending to be a Christian might save an Indian’s life right now. Dear God, let that be true. But then, so small a part of the population, the Christians and other minorities were just pushed aside by the greater swell of hatred. With only a year to go, everyone worried what side of the new borders their town or city would lie. What will Pakistan look like? What will be the shape of India when all is said and done?


Lady Mountbatten picked her way through the rubble beside her husband and their entourage of ADC’s, bodyguards, soldiers, the governor of the province, and various military and political personnel. Ahead of Cam, the Mountbattens were doing what they could for this town. Refugee camps were springing up everywhere you looked…camps already with thousands…staring with wild eyes…as if the world was coming to an end.  


~*~

Veiled at Midnight is a novel brimming with exciting history, and a big love story between the two main characters, Captain Cam Fraser and the Indian girl he loves. But it is also a story about Cam's sister Miriam, who wants to remain in India. During the turbulent Partition of India Miriam discovers what God wants her to do. 

Here is my fictional Miriam in conjunction with Lady Edwina Mountbatten's humanitarian work. 



Friday, March 13, 2015

ST. AUGUSTINE'S CHURCH LONDONDERRY

As an Irish immigrant to Canada I knew a fair bit about my birth-place, but still there was so much to learn when I was researching my romance Novella 
Londonderry Dreaming, and for my future series called Donegal Winds.

Sure, I knew about St. Patrick like most of the world does, but there were many others who spread the gospel message to the pagan Irish all those centuries ago.

In 2006 I visited the city of Londonderry in the county of Donegal 
(pronounced Dun—ee---gall)

What a step back into the past when I toured the medieval walled city. It is one of the finest walled cities in Europe. A highlight of that tour was visiting the old church St. Augustine’s. In itself this is a very old church, but the site that it sits upon is believed to be that of the Columban monastery founded in the late 6th century. 

Here’s a link to some of that history. 



As I was researching my book I got friendly via email with the vicar and the custodian of St. Augustine’s. Every once in a while Alan (the custodian) sends me up-to-date photos of the lovely old church that touched my heart in such a special place.

Here are some photos of that charming church, and if you would like to see the stained glass windows in St. Augustine that touched my heart so much, watch my 1 minute book trailer. There you’ll see the Ruth and Naomi windows that feature in my novella Londonderry Dreaming.






And don't forget, Londonderry Dreaming is FREE until April 2, 2015 from my publisher as our love offering for Lent. 

Go here to Pelican Book Group download your Ebook copy for $0.00


Thursday, March 05, 2015

MARCH--THE MONTH OF THE IRISH--by Christine Lindsay


I'm proud to be Irish--a person actually born on the old sod--and I'll tell you why in a few posts over the month of March. Starting with a very, very, brief history lesson on Ireland and Christianity.

Around the time the Roman Empire fell, the world went into a tailspin. Christian clergy were scattered to the far corners of civilization at the time. A great many of them made it to Ireland. There, with the isolation of that small misty green isle over the Irish Sea, these clergy found a safe place to preserve their texts and learning. 

Much of that was the Christian texts, and the Irish monks preserved the scriptures, creating such treasures as the Book of Kells, a beautifully illuminated book containing the Gospels.


But also at this time, a missionary came to Ireland by the name of Patrick. 

One day when he was teaching some of the people following him, they said they couldn't understand his deep teaching about the Trinity. 

How could God be three persons and one at the same time?  

That's when St. Patrick picked up a shamrock. The shamrock is not to be confused with the so-called lucky four-leaf clover. In the Irish language Gaelic, shamrock means the ordinary, little, heart-shaped three-leaf clover.
Patrick held this out to the pagan Irish and said, "Just like this wee shamrock is three leaves, it is also one. This is the same with God.

A mystery--yes. But if you look at the simple sweet message of the shamrock, it's not so hard to grasp this wonderful truth. 

Because I'm proud to be Irish, I wrote the contemporary novel Londonderry Dreaming which is free from the publisher Pelican Book Group at $0.00 for Lent until April 2. 


CLICK HERE TO WATCH THE FUN BOOK TRAILER FOR LONDONDERRY DREAMING.




Sunday, March 01, 2015

ROMANTIC SCENE FROM VEILED AT MIDNIGHT---by Christine Lindsay

One of the several romantic scenes in Veiled at Midnight. Keep in mind though, there is more than one romance in this book. 
~*~

Cool mountain air carried the fragrance of pines, firs, and deodar forests as they drove out of the mountains into a wide valley the next day. Afternoon sun angled through poplar trees standing like tall sentries along the road.
“I’ll buy you some new clothes. Would you like that?” Cam added to the chitchat they’d enjoyed throughout the journey all that day and during their stops for picnics.

“Yes.” The image of a red sari danced in her mind. She put her hand up to the marble still hanging on its string around her throat and grinned at him. Getting his smile was all she needed, though his conversation still felt like a puzzle with too many missing pieces. 

Inside the city of Srinagar, her eyes could not take in their fill of loveliness. The many waterways could only be compared to photographs she had seen of Venice. Picturesque stone bridges arched over waterways while the balconies of wooden and fretted chalets hung over the water.

Cam parked his car outside an agency, and came out twenty minutes later. “Do you mind if I keep our final destination a surprise for a bit longer?”

“I have given you my heart, Cam. You have my trust as well, janu.”

His face filled with light at the pledge of her belief, though the words cost her. There were so few people she trusted. But was that not what marriage meant—believing in the one you loved?

“Only one more stop, my darling.” His voice grew rough, a sweet roughness like that of a cat’s kiss on her hand, sending a tingle down her spine. “Once I get you alone with my ring on your finger, Dassah, it is my intention to enjoy marital bliss in complete—I repeat—complete seclusion.”

Her stomach went into a wild dervish. Last night she had marred their evening with questions. Today she would show only love, no fretful questions, only trust.

He went into another shop up the street, leaving her still in the car. She did not mind when this honeymoon that he had planned so quickly was a dream of a lifetime come true. She only wished she could stroll along the narrow, winding street with him arm and arm. Glancing at the few English and Europeans in the street, perhaps it was best she wait until they were married to outwardly act his wife.

He came out a while later with several large flat boxes and put these in the boot of the car. The smile he sent her set her pulse to tripping. Since last night when he had held her hand and ran with her to the car they had not touched, not even a finger tracing the side of a cheek. Her breath ceased. But now he was here…sitting beside her…driving her to their wedding.


Her breathing resumed a normal rhythm as Cam pulled the car up to a mooring where a long, slim flat-bottomed boat waited, that Cam told her was called a shikara. He helped her into the shikara, and along with the young Kashmiri man, Cam packed the bags and boxes into the craft. Cam learned the driver’s name and passed it on to her—Asheesh—who took his position at the back of the shikara. At last, Cam sank onto the seat in the middle of the craft with her, a gaily colored canopy flapping above them. Asheesh dipped heart-shaped paddles into the water and pushed them forward.     

Trailing branches of willows whispered along the waterway as they glided past. For the first time since last night, Cam touched her by drawing her near to rest her head against his collarbone. She breathed in the clean scent of his cotton shirt as the sun set. Snow-packed peaks around them flushed like a ripe peach as their craft slid out to the openness of an immense placid lake, dotted with lotus blossoms.

She tilted her face up. Cam filled her vision with the angular line of his jaw, the strong mouth that appeared vulnerable the closer she inched toward him. His fresh, warm breath fanned her hair, and she arched closer as he drew her nearer, tracing his finger along the line of her cheek, the outline of her lips. “My beautiful—” His voice broke. “Sweet janu, I don’t deserve you.” He buried his face at the side of her neck, and she clung to him, looking over his shoulder, her mouth still yearning for the touch of his lips.

She stroked the roughness of his jaw where he needed a shave. “Will we be married tonight?”

He looked out to a light glimmering on the far side of the lake. In the growing darkness she couldn’t make out what it was. A house on the shore? Another shikara? “I hope so, janu. I hope so.”

She snuggled close, though he had said he did not wish for touch until they were married, but his use of the Hindi endearment filled her to overflowing.

“From this day forward,” he said, “nothing will ever separate us.” His gaze did not waver. “Not nationality, nor country, nor people. We’ll be one before God, forever.”

The light across the lake brightened, the closer they drew. As their shikara pulled alongside a small houseboat moored at the bank, this part of the lake struck as more of a backwater, hidden, secluded. 

Perfect for a honeymoon…if one did not wish to be seen.


Friday, February 20, 2015

BIGGEST BOOK GIVEAWAY I HAVE EVER HEARD OF--by Christine Lindsay


Click on this link LONDONDERRY DREAMING to receive your FREE Ebook. $0.00


I'm so happy to share with you the biggest giveaway of Ebooks I have ever heard of. I am so honored to be one of the authors of Pelican Book Group. And when you are ordering your free books, please consider downloading my book Londonderry Dreaming (details on that book are after the press release below, so scroll all the way down).


The following is the press release from Pelican Books:

Pelican Book Group Makes All E-Books Free for Lent & Hopes to Help All Readers Experience Christ 

In an effort to ensure that all readers, regardless of ability to pay, are able to experience Christ through fiction during the Lenten season, Pelican Book Group will make its entire current e-book catalog free to all for the duration of the period.

Of this bold offering, Pelican editor-in-chief, Nicola Martinez, said, “I've always considered Pelican Book Group a ministry first, and we seek to put the message above every other business consideration. No monetary value equals the worth of one soul. It is my desire to get Christ's message of hope, forgiveness, and salvation into the hands of as many people as possible as we approach Easter.”

All of Pelican Book Group’s current individual (non-subscription) e-book releases, including those from its White Rose Publishing, Harbourlight Books, and Watershed Books imprints, will be free—with absolutely no strings attached—on the Pelican Book Group website at www.pelicanbookgroup.com from Ash Wednesday, Feb. 18, 2015, to Holy Thursday, Apr. 2, 2015.
Go to www.pelicanbookgroup.com if you would like to read the rest of the press release and to order your free E-books available in Epub, Pdf, and Mobi Formats (such as for Kindle readers).

Christine Lindsay--I am truly honored to be among the Pelican Book Group authors, and delighted by my publishers desire to simply give away the labor of love that these books are. I have only one reason to write, to share the love of Christ with others.

Londonderry Dreaming is my first contemporary romance with Pelican in their Passport to Romance line. Later this year my novel Sofi's Bridge, 
a historical romance, will be released by Pelican,  but for now let me tell you about Londonderry Dreaming since it is FREE for you to download during Lent. 

 CLICK  here on LONDONDERRY DREAMING to view the minute-long book trailer. hint---turn up volume to hear some pretty Irish music.


Acclaimed New York artist, Naomi Boyd, and music therapist, Keith Wilson, loved one another five years ago, until her grandfather with his influence over Naomi separated them.

That root of bitterness keeps them apart until a letter from Keith’s grandmother, Ruth, draws Naomi to Londonderry to find she’s too late. Ruth has passed on. After the death of his beloved grandmother, Keith has also come to Londonderry only to open the door to his past…Naomi...beautiful as ever, the girl who broke his heart.

A mysterious painting in Ruth’s attic brings up questions about their grandparents’ entwined past and their own broken romance. But more comfortable with the unspoken languages of art and music, Naomi and Keith find it difficult to share their old hurts and true feelings.

Will the majestic coastline of Northern Ireland inspire them to speak the words to bring peace to their grandparents’ memory and to rekindle love?

Here is the link below again to receive your FREE Ebook for all electronic readers to start reading

LONDONDERRY DREAMING

Sunday, February 08, 2015

I WISH I HAD A DIFFERENT FAMILY—by Christine Lindsay



As a kid, I wished I had a different family. Not all of us grew up with the loving dad who carved the Christmas turkey, took us on vacation to the beach, and fixed broken toys. In fact, my dad broke my toys—accidentally of course—but he broke my stuff more frequently than he gave things to me.

I was ashamed of my father, embarrassed if my friends saw him staggering home drunk.

My dad’s drinking robbed me of my childhood. From the time I was twelve I was looking out for my mother, watching that my dad didn’t hurt her too much. Helping to financially support her, myself, and my younger brother and sister with my babysitting jobs.

I often wonder how many families have been destroyed by alcoholism.

Thank God the heavenly Father didn’t leave me in that despair. From the time I entered my teens I began to learn how much the Lord loved me and He became my dad. It was also the power of a loving savior that gave strength to my mother, to help her stand up to her abusive and neglectful husband. My mum and we three kids ran away from my dad way back in 1978. He never changed, and sadly remained an alcoholic to his dying day.

My mother’s story inspired Shadowed in Silk, the first book in my series.

As for my real life, I could have carried the despair and bitterness that my father’s drinking had done to us the rest of my life. For many years I did act like a victim constantly fighting against the world, feeling sorry for my poor childhood. Even though I was a follower of Christ it took decades for the Lord to teach me what the love of a father was all about.

As time passed, things went well for me. I married a wonderful Christian 
man, and watching the way he loved our kids healed the last bit of bitterness about my own childhood. But sadly my younger brother and sister inherited the same addiction as our dad. Both my brother and sister succumbed to alcoholism even though they both believed in Christ. With despair and disgust I watched how the drink destroyed their lives.

And I was reminded again how much I hated the family traits that seemed to be passed down through our bloodline. It seemed the Spirit of God wasn’t winning against the natural traits in our family.

It took years of prayer, but three years ago I saw God change my brother and bring him out to a life of sobriety. I’m still praying for my sister. But as I watched my brother go through rehabilitation and choose sobriety for his life I was reminded of Romans chapter 7 

I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. And if I do what I do not want to do… As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing…20 Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it…

It took some time, but not only have I seen God’s work changing me, but I’ve seen him change my brother, and other members of my family.  

Whatever the natural trait you inherited from your bloodline, it can be healed through Christ.

Bitterness doesn’t have to be your middle name.

A dark childhood can be changed into a bright and beautiful life.

I believe in happy endings in my writing because I’ve seen happy endings in my own life through the promises of Jesus Christ.


My entire series Twilight of the British Raj shows the healing of a family first tainted by a father’s alcoholism. In book 1 Shadowed in Silk, my heroine Abby Fraser stands up to her drunken and abusive husband. In book 2 Captured by Moonlight my Indian heroine Eshana stands up to her fanatical Hindu uncle who won’t allow her to live as a Christian. And in the final book 3 Veiled at Midnight my character Cam (who was a boy in book 1) and is now a man, faces his inner demons that he has inherited his father’s addiction to alcohol.

All sounds very dark and dismal. Alcoholism? Why would I ever want to read a novel about that, never mind an entire series?

How many of us have been hurt by our families? How many of us have been hurt by our father, our mother, or another loved one?

It’s because I’ve experienced the joy of a life cleansed and renewed that  I write not about drunkenness, but the tingling feeling of when God makes everything thing new. Humor, light, and hope shimmering within the pages.

I hope you’ll take a look at the multi-award-winning series Twilight of the British Raj, the historical, romantic, adventurous, exciting, and passionate, books Shadowed in Silk, Captured by Moonlight, and Veiled at Midnight.




You might find something to strengthen your faith while you're being entertained.

Blessings,

Christine