Bridge of Dreams by Chrissy Munder 2
“DAMN it all, man, where’s my Tall Walker?” Daniel Morris took off his hard hat and ran one hand roughly through his tousled hair. “We’re two weeks behind and my ass is bloody well raw from all the chomping by the head office.” Dave Hewelt just shrugged as he looked at the foreman for his union local. “He was supposed to have checked in this morning but you know what they’re like. He’s probably out getting drunk like the one he’s replacing.” “I won’t have that talk, Hewelt,” Daniel growled. “I don’t care if the man is red, yellow or green. Just as long as he can do the job.” “Maaki says…” “I don’t give a damn what Maaki says. He’s a bigoted fool and if he wasn’t such a good riveter he’d be off my crew.” Daniel ended the conversation by turning and walking away from the crew supervisor in disgust. As much as he loved the challenge of working on a project of this scale, he hated having to deal with this kind of prejudice. But he guessed it was something found everywhere. As a younger man he’d idealistically hoped to leave prejudice of a different sort behind when he left his home in England and came to the “wilds” of the Americas, only to quickly learn that while places changed, men didn’t. He didn’t have any more chance of living openly here at the Straits of Mackinac in 1955 than he did back home. Not that it mattered. He was just as much alone as he’d ever been. There were thirty-five hundred men employed at this bridge site and other seventy-five hundred engaged working the quarries, shops and mills
Bridge of Dreams by Chrissy Munder 3 required to supply it and he’d not met a one that he’d risk his job as foreman for. Daniel’s bitter thoughts were interrupted by a commotion ahead. He strode quickly up the ring of cheering men and pushed his way to the center. Damn it! Another fight. “Austin, Maaki!” he bellowed, his rough voice cutting through the crowd noise and making the men freeze. “What the hell is going on here?” “Fuckin’ faggot, sir,” Austin answered even as he gave the huddled figure on the ground another kick. “He didn’t even have the decency to try to hide it.” “And that gives yeh grounds to beat the man into the dirt?” Morris growled in anger. “He turned down an introduction to Austin’s daughter.” Maaki, a big brawler of a man who’d come from far in the Upper Peninsular to find work, spoke up. “Aye, I understand now. Yer beating the man ’cause he showed some rare intelligence.” The foreman’s comment drew howls of laughter from the men crowded around and Austin flushed. He had six daughters at home and was desperate to get the oldest off and settled. “Kissed the Chief right at the gate, sir,” Austin interrupted. “Bold as you please.” Daniel closed his eyes and shook his head at the man’s ignorance. “Oh for god’s sakes, man. The Chief is ninety iff’n he’s a day.” “Just because you’re an Indian lover, Morris, doesn’t mean that the rest of us have to stand for ’em.” Maaki looked around the circle of men for support as he tried a different tack to justify the beating. “They come in and take our jobs, take our pay…”
Bridge of Dreams by Chrissy Munder 4 “The day yer man enough to walk the tall iron I’ll fire every last one of them.” Daniel hooked his fingers into his 60-lb. tool belt, tipped back his hard hat and walked up into the man’s personal space, daring him to strike out. “Until then, I need men who can.” He stared steadily into Maaki’s eyes until the man shifted his gaze down and stepped back. Authority asserted, Daniel leaned closer and quietly spoke the rest of his piece for Maaki’s ear alone. “’Sides, didn’t I catch yeh last weekend sucking Billy’s cock behind the iron shed? What would yer friends think if I passed that bit around, eh?” Maaki flushed and looked away from the piercing blue eyes. Daniel shook his head in disgust. It made no sense that Maaki was so quick to beat a man for doing nothing but the same as he, but Daniel supposed the power of denial was hard to battle. Daniel raised his voice so the rest of the men gathered could hear. “I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again. I don’t care what a man gets up to on his own time. We all know Maurice there likes to fuck ’em the fatter the better, makes no mind to me. Neither does anything the rest of yeh do.” The crowd of men laughed heartily at his rough humor and Daniel continued, his accent thicker than usual with his anger. “What I do care about is iff’n yeh get the job done. Yeh can all take turns corn-holing the old donkey out back, as long yeh kiss it first and yeh do it on yer time, not mine.” He looked around the crowd. “Can I make myself any clearer?” The majority of the men gathered for the fight shook their heads and started drifting away. Daniel gave the rest of them a hard glance before he turned back to the two instigators. “Austin, Maaki, yeh’ve both got shack duty for the next week.” He held his hand up to still their outraged protests. It was a thankless job, he
Bridge of Dreams by Chrissy Munder 5 knew, waiting till everyone was off the bridge at night to check their equipment in. “And mind yeh, I’ll want an accurate count on every spud wrench and sleever bar out there.” Daniel stood over the man still curled into a ball on the ground, arms akimbo as he yelled, “And somebody find my new Tall Walker.” “Here.” The voice was quiet and low. Daniel looked around before he felt a tug on his pant leg. The man below him coughed and then spoke again as he pushed himself up off the dusty ground. “I’m the new iron worker.” Bloody hell. “Just fuckin’ great.” Daniel bent down and took his hand, feeling the hard calluses before pulling him slowly to his feet. “How long before yeh’ll be fit to work?” The other man straightened slowly and Daniel winced in sympathy as he watched. Maaki and Austin both had been at him; he had to be hurting. “Give me today to loosen up and I’ll be in the sky tomorrow.” He pushed his long dark hair out of his face and Daniel was caught by the intelligence in the hazel eyes. “Right,” he snorted. “After that beating?” “I’ve had worse.” The dark haired man bent and picked up his bag of gear. “Have yeh now? Yer a big bloke,” Daniel mused aloud. “How’d they get the jump on yeh?” The hazel eyes just looked at him with a strange light glowing within. Daniel forced himself to look away from the compelling gaze and
Bridge of Dreams by Chrissy Munder 6 could see the bruising on his face under the dust. The lower lip was puffed and bloody and Daniel had to restrain himself from reaching out, wanting to soothe the hurt. “I don’t hide what I am and it troubles some.” The man spit some blood out onto the ground. “Best to let them get it over and done with rather than letting them brood and plan worse.” “Not a whiner, huh? Fine then.” Amazed at his reactions to the new man, Daniel took refuge in his usual gruffness. “There’s open beds at the St. Ignace tent city.” “I’ll be staying with the Mohawks from the Kahnawake reservation.” “The Canadian crew, huh? Yeh don’t look Native American.” Daniel winced, even as the words fell out of his mouth. The man shrugged and the light in his dark eyes dimmed at Daniel’s thoughtless comment. “I’m not. But that’s where I’m staying.” Shouldering his gear, the man started striding off. “Tall Walker,” Daniel yelled after him. The man stopped but didn’t turn around. “Yeh were a smart man to refuse Austin’s daughter.”
AS usual with the Michigan weather, it could be warm and enjoyable one day and bitter cold and windy the next. One of the largest difficulties with building the huge suspension bridge was trying to stay atop the everchanging weather.
Bridge of Dreams by Chrissy Munder 7 It had been a hell of a job so far. The towers had finally been completed, but before they could even be started the massive cement caissons had been sunk down into the bedrock. There were two hundred and ten feet (64 meters) of tower pier below the water and in the process of building them it was a miracle that only one man had lost his life when he’d surfaced too quickly and got the bends. He didn’t know how they did it, trapped in those suits of canvas and brass, hooked only by an airline to the surface. Daniel shuddered. Didn’t matter if it was beneath the land or beneath the water, too much like death for him. He preferred the open air. It was one of the reasons he’d never become a miner back home, focusing his attention instead on becoming a welder. Daniel teetered on the catwalk, a bridge made of cyclone fencing spanning the open sky between the bridge towers that enabled the men to go back and forth, as the winds blew around him. It was Friday afternoon and he wanted to make sure that the welding and riveting on this level had been completed before he let the men go for their weekend drunk, and the only way to do that was to go up and check for himself. The catwalk was strung halfway up the full five hundred and fiftytwo feet (168 meters) height of the towers and that was high enough for Daniel. He wasn’t comfortable this far up but had to admit the view was terrific. He looked out into the Strait itself and saw one of the many ferries that busily traveled between the two peninsulas. During peak season they could unload and reload autos, customers and cargo in just twenty-four minutes, but even so that meant only about nine thousand cars could be handled each day. Sometimes the line-up of those awaiting transport stretched back as far as Cheboygan, a full sixteen miles away. It was an amazing sight. A noise caught his attention and Daniel held on to his hard hat against the wind as he looked up into the high tower. “Silly fool.” He muttered. Sands, the new Tall Walker and one of the Mohawks were on the tall iron above him.
Bridge of Dreams by Chrissy Munder 8 He didn’t know how they managed in the chillier temps high above the lake; his fingers were frozen even down at this level. At least Sands was wearing a heavy canvas vest and chaps to protect against the wind like the others. Daniel didn’t bother asking himself how he could recognize Sands in the group from this distance. He already knew the answer. It had been a month since Sands had started and Daniel had to admit the man was good at his job. As his references promised he was a hard worker, showed up early and stayed late. He seemed practically fearless the way he clambered around the towers and manipulated the large girders into place. Daniel found himself looking up at various times of the day just to catch a glimpse of the big man hanging off the side of the metal fortress. Sands didn’t socialize with the other ironworkers, preferring to spend his time with the other Tall Walkers and the local Ojibway and Ottawa who worked the site mainly as laborers. It wasn’t a crime for man not to spend his time drinking and gambling, just unusual in this group. And no matter what the man’s preferences there hadn’t been any trouble of the romantic kind, a common enough occurrence amongst the rough crowd. There’d been some undercurrents from Austin and Maaki and their like, uncouth bullies who were bothered more by a white man spending his time with the Native Americans than his uncaring homosexuality. But Hewelt reported that had died down after an incident where Sands and his group kept some of the riveters from falling into the open water when a poorly welded section had snapped beneath them. That was something else for Daniel to look into. There had been too many instances where “accidents” had happened. Luckily no one had been badly hurt but it was only a matter of time. Suspicion was starting to fall on some of the ferry owners. It was only to be expected he supposed; the fear that the bridge would destroy their livelihoods was rampant. And they were probably right. Change was coming and change was always hard.
Bridge of Dreams by Chrissy Munder 9 Another blast of the cold Straits wind took Daniel by surprise and he lost his balance, clutching at the cyclone fencing to keep upright. An ominous creak soon followed and Daniel could only watch in disbelief as the other end of the fence tore free from the bridge support. Christ! was all he had time to think before the world dropped out from under his feet. Daniel scrabbled for a hold on something, anything, but the fence was flapping in the strong winds and only his panicked grasp kept him from plummeting straight down to the chilly water below. He managed to twist his fingers into the fencing, feeling the sharp metal cutting and the slickness of blood that tried to loosen his grip. Each gust of wind sent him and the fence he clung to up into the air and then down again to slam into the side of the metal tower with sickening force. It wasn’t going to be long. Daniel looked up to the heights above him rather than down to the churning water below, not questioning what or who he wanted to be the last he saw. He squinted in the harsh winds, searching for the fall of dark hair that was always blowing out from under the hard hat and then froze in horror as Sands spread his arms and jumped off the high tower like a diver. It was like watching a bird in flight, Daniel thought dazedly. The man fell gracefully downward, seeming to ride the air currents. Daniel finally saw the line attached to Sands’s legs and didn’t have time to wonder about anything else as strong arms closed around him. Sands hooked his hands into Daniel’s tool belt and held tight as they jerked and swayed against gravity. “Hold on to me,” he yelled in Daniel’s ear as he released Daniel’s bloody grip from the fencing. The two of them hung suspended from the tower line above and Daniel could only wonder how long it could take the weight of them both. He knew his heart was beating rapidly and he could feel Sands’s as well.
Bridge of Dreams by Chrissy Munder 10 Daniel closed his eyes and leaned his head against Sands’s knees, the leather chaps soft against his cheek. There was a blur of voices above and below them as the crews scrambled to get them down, but Daniel’s only focus was the strength and warmth of the man who held him safe. Finally he felt hands tugging at him. Daniel instinctively fought against them before letting himself be pulled away from Sands and taken down to water level and the relative security of one of the flat barges used to maneuver back and forth from the causeways to the tower piers. Daniel sat dazedly on the deck, watching as Sands was lowered down as well, the man’s eyes never losing contact with Daniel’s until Hewelt came rushing up and Daniel was finally forced to look away. “God, Morris, are you ok?” "Yeah,” Daniel uttered slowly, trying to pull himself together before the crowd of men realized how shook he really was. “I think I shat myself, though.” The men laughed, thumping each other on the shoulders as they realized their foreman had not only lived, but was man enough to joke about it. “I wondered what that smell was.” The teasing note in the low voice took Daniel by surprise and he looked over at the grinning man who had saved his life. Daniel dragged himself over to where Sands was getting untangled from the line that had saved them both and extended his hand. “How can I say thank yeh?” The dark haired man grasped his hand in return and Daniel could feel the connection between the two of them like a spark of electricity. “We’ll figure something out.” The hazel eyes smiled into his and Daniel was once again feeling the beat of the other man’s heart like it was his own.
Bridge of Dreams by Chrissy Munder 11 “I know!” Young Elwood, the boy responsible for filling and emptying the rivet buckets yelled out excitedly. “A pastie day!” Daniel groaned as the rest of the men gathered around grabbed on to the idea, repeating it until it took on a life of its own and there was no way Daniel could back out. “Doesn’t much sound like I’ll get my day of rest.” The connection between the two men had been broken and Daniel reluctantly released Sands’s hand. “A what day?” Daniel was questioned. “A pastie day,” Daniel repeated. “The lad is right. It’s a lot of work but there’s not a better way for me to show yeh my thanks.” He stood slowly, not wanted anyone to realize just how shaky his legs were. “All right, then,” he nodded to the crowd of men. “Tell the others and be sure to have the wives over early. By God, we will have a pastie day.”
THE next morning found Daniel up before the dawn. He was stiff and sore and grumpier than hell, not having had much sleep the night before. Not even the liquor he’d consumed to still his shaking had kept him from dreaming about the moment when the catwalk gave way and the look of the water below him. It was deep where he’d almost gone in, about two hundred and ninety-five feet (90 meters). It would have been his end, he knew that. But that hadn’t been the worst of his dreams. The worst had been reliving the security, the absurd sense of home that he had felt when Sands had held him there, suspended between life and death. A cruel dream indeed to now know the strength denied him.
Bridge of Dreams by Chrissy Munder 12 Daniel tried to ignore all that and focus on the task at hand. Pastie making on this scale was a serious business. He and eight of the wives had already been hard at work, setting up tables in the large open area outside his foreman’s shack, getting fires ready for the huge kettles and making sure that the ovens were lit in as many households as could be managed. He’d already arranged with the butcher the evening before to process a steer and the meat was delivered while they worked. Young Elwood had been drafted as well as few of the other lads to peel and chop the mountain of vegetables needed, and Daniel himself was prepping the beef as best he could with his fingers bandaged. He had decided to make a mince in view of the number they were preparing and called a few of the women over to help him. It had been a strange but comforting feeling to come to the Straits of Mackinac and find one of the dietary staples was the same as one Daniel had grown up with. Once the wives had learned he was from England, they had pestered the life out of him for recipes and descriptions of the pasties his Ma had made. The majority of the work finally delegated, Daniel sat down under the trees away from the activity, trying to rest a bit. He’d been sweating from being so close to the steaming kettles and fires and had taken off his shirt. The chilly Michigan wind had dried his sweat but he wasn’t cool enough to put it back on. He closed his eyes and relaxed, wondering when Sands and some of the other Tall Walkers would show. As if conjured from his thoughts, a low voice whispered in his ear while those strong, callused fingers were discreetly tracing the bruising on his side where he and the cyclone fencing had their disagreement with the metal tower. “Not as bad as I thought.” Daniel shivered but refused to open his eyes. He didn’t know if he was afraid to look into those hazel eyes or afraid the gentle touch on his skin would disappear. “I saw yeh with worse.”
Bridge of Dreams by Chrissy Munder 13 “You’re a strange man, Morris.” Sands settled down on the grass beside him, his fingers still softly stroking Daniel’s side. “I’m a strange man?” Daniel repeated; trying not to show the effect those gentle touches were having on him. “I’m not the one flying about the towers like I’m some kind of bloody bird man. Aren’t yeh afraid?” “Always.” Sand’s fingers stilled their tiny movements, resting warm and solid against Daniel’s side. “Then why do yeh do it? How do yeh do it?” Sands sighed at the often-asked question. “It’s what I was taught. You put one foot in front of the other. Just look straight ahead and never look down.” “Huh,” Daniel grunted. “You know the 1907?” Daniel heard the slightest catch in the man’s voice as he continued speaking softly. “Aye,” Daniel replied, opening his eyes for the first time since Sands sat down. “Seventy-five ironworkers were killed in that bridge collapse at Quebec City.” “My uncle was one of them. Thirty-three Mohawks also died. My father was a stranger to this country and had no one; they had lost so many. They took him in, eventually raised me. Taught me not to be afraid of who I was.” “Yeh were lucky,” Daniel breathed enviously, “I was.” Sands acknowledged the deeper meaning beneath Daniel’s words. “You know, I froze my first time up.” “Really?” Daniel accepted the change of subject like he’d accepted everything else from this man.
Bridge of Dreams by Chrissy Munder 14 “I was twelve. I had a bucket full of rivets and was walking across one of the girders. I just stopped…” “What happened?” “Nothing. Eventually I decided I could move again and made my way to safety. I don’t remember how long I stood out there.” “They didn’t send anyone to get yeh?” Sands shook his head. “Bad enough to lose one man, why lose two?” “And yet yeh came to get me?” Daniel turned towards the other man, catching those compelling eyes with his and watching as the pupils dilated. “Yes.” The word was soft, almost a breath. But Daniel heard it. Nervously, his tongue darted out to lick his suddenly dry lips and the color of those hazel eyes deepened even darker. Was it really going to be this simple, this easy? After all these years alone? “Mr. Morris, sir.” The raised voice was an unwelcome interruption. “It’s time for the dough.” Sands raised a dark eyebrow. “You’re the bakery foreman as well as the welding foreman?” “Obviously yeh don’t yet have a full appreciation of my many talents. C’mon, Tall Walker.” Daniel stood stiffly. “Time to teach yeh about pasties.”
Bridge of Dreams by Chrissy Munder 15 DANIEL walked towards the tables. He knew Sands was following him. Somehow he could feel the other man behind him; large and warm like a blanket he could rest under. Endless bowls of the butter, egg and flour dough mixture were ready to be rolled out into the hundreds of circles that would be required. It had become a tradition of sorts for Daniel to roll out the first few and he took up the wooden dowel with familiar ease. Daniel scooped up a cup of flour and dusted it onto his hands and the table top before pinching off some of the dough and slapping it down in front of him. Those standing behind him cheered and Sands moved closer to Daniel’s side. “A man of many talents indeed,” Sands muttered. Daniel tossed a handful of flour over his shoulder, hitting the teasing man in the face to the delight of the ladies and children, who immediately grabbed some of their own and started a flurry of flying flour. “Now look what you’ve done,” Daniel teased back. His muscular arms flexed as he used the dowel to roll the dough out to the necessary thickness. He gestured impatiently to Elwood, who brought up a pot of the minced meat and vegetable mixture that had been cooking down in the kettles. Daniel stirred it, enjoying the aroma before taking a spoonful and holding it up to Sands’s lips. “Try it,” he urged. Sands smiled slightly and then leaned forward, wrapping his lips around the spoon and causing Daniel’s heart to stop. There was still a dusting of flour on the tanned cheeks and Daniel struggled to remember where they were. “It’s good.” “Good?” Daniel protested. “It’s bloody ambrosia.” He proceeded to spoon the mixture into the dough circles.
Bridge of Dreams by Chrissy Munder 16 “What’s in there?” “Oh, the basics, meat of course. Along with whatever you might have around. Usually onions and taters, rutabagas, and sometimes turnips and carrots. Back home these used to be the standard meal for miners. Some say the Cornish first made them, others say it were the Irish more than eight hundred years ago.” Daniel shrugged. “Whoever it was brought them with them when they came to work the copper mines of upper Michigan.” Daniel continued to fill the dough circles with the meat mixture. “My Ma used to put our initials on one end so we’d be able to tell ’em apart. My little brother couldn’t abide turnips and I couldn’t stand the carrots. So she’d make them special for each of us and mark ’em so we’d know whose was whose.” Sands watched as Daniel folded the dough circle over the filling and then carefully crimped the edges, making a half moon with a thick ridge, almost a handle at the side. “What’s that for?” Sands asked in curiosity. “Tradition, mostly. Used to be yeh’d use it as a handle, not being able to wash up down in the mine. Kept yeh from worrying about eating coal dust and the like. Yeh’d munch to there and be done.” “A waste,” Sands remarked. “Never that. Yeh leave them behind in the mines for the knockers.” “Knockers?” Daniel shook his head sadly at Sands’s lack of knowledge. “Ghosties. Them that haunted the mines. Kept them fed, kept them happy.”
Bridge of Dreams by Chrissy Munder 17 His ceremonial tasks completed, Daniel gratefully accepted a mug of beer. He raised the mug, toasting the partially completed bridge before them. “To the Bridge of Dreams.” His toast was echoed and then he was shoved out of the way as the women and youngsters fought their way to the tables to continue the massive undertaking. It would take an hour or so for all the pasties to be put together and longer than that for them all to be cooked. “Do you really believe that?” Sands asked. “What?” Daniel replied as they walked towards the water’s edge. “Is it a Bridge of Dreams?” “Aye, absolutely. One hell of a dream at that. Started back in the 1880’s. It’s taken decades of dreaming and struggling to get us to where we are today. Did yeh know that there’s over eighty-five thousand blueprints for her design? When we’re all done there’ll be over four million steel rivets and over a million steel bolts in her.” The awe Daniel could never hide when he thought about the bridge was apparent in his voice. “Listen to you,” Sands laughed Daniel just laughed back. “So I get a bit carried away. Still, it’s amazing. A hard task needing hard men to do her.” The pair continued walking, using the time to talk quietly and letting the feelings of warmth and recognition gently grow between them. It seemed only a short time had passed before they were back at the tables and admiring the now fully baked pasties set out to cool. There was a festive air all around them. Pasties were a treat to be savored, and Daniel’s rescue by the new Tall Walker was a good excuse for a celebration and break from the hard routine of work. Some of the
Bridge of Dreams by Chrissy Munder 18 men brought out their guitars, others fiddles and flutes and soon there was dancing, drinking and games of strength and skill, as well as the hot and flaky pasties to enjoy. Daniel tried not to laugh too hard when he spied Maaki dancing in one of the circles with Austin’s oldest daughter, but he couldn’t help elbowing Sands to share the joke. “He’ll end up married to her to hide his nature.” Daniel shook his head and took another swallow of his beer. “What happens when your dream bridge here is built?” Sands asked him quietly. “Don’t really know. Look for the next one, I guess.” Daniel shrugged. “You build dreams for others, what about for yourself?” Daniel hesitated, wondering if he dared risk a truthful response. “Been a long time since I dreamed.” Sands looked out over the lake, the towers barely visible with the onset of twilight. “The locals believe the island was the first land to appear when the waters of the Great Flood receded. The Great Hare, Michibou, retrieved a grain of sand from the lake bed beneath the waters and blew on it until it expanded into an island.” Daniel looked out towards the Island. “I thought the legends had something to do with a turtle.” Sands laughed. “That too. They called this place Michilimackinac – it means great road of departure, or the jumping off place. It’s considered to be of great spiritual importance to many of the native people. It’s why I came here.” Daniel got up restlessly, wondering what the man was trying to tell him. Sands stood as well and silently walked off into the shelter of the
Bridge of Dreams by Chrissy Munder 19 woods behind them. Daniel found he was unable to do anything but follow. He entered the coolness of the forest and heard the sounds of the crowd disappear behind him. Daniel walked quietly through the pine-scented darkness, filled with a calm sense of purpose until he finally came to where Sands had stopped, seemingly at one with the wilderness around them. “I don’t even know yer first name.” “Phillip,” came the quiet reply before those full lips he’d watched and dreamed of for so long met his with gentle promise. Daniel closed his eyes and felt an overwhelming sense of rightness. “Go ahead and build your Bridge of Dreams. But let us use this as our jumping off place. There’s land to be had farther in the North. Places to live as we wish,” Phillip whispered against Daniel’s lips. “I saved your life, you know. I get to keep you.” “Just like that?” Daniel whispered back, breathing in the scents of pasty and forest. “Just like that.” Philip let one hand creep under the back of Daniel’s shirt, splaying his large hand out against the firm muscles and pulling Daniel closer to him. It was in the end, Daniel thought, just that easy.
Bridge of Dreams by Chrissy Munder 20 Chrissy Munder The joke in Chrissy Munder's family is that she was born with a book in her hand. Even now, you'll never find her without a book or seven scattered about. Forced to become a practicing realist in an effort to combat her tendency to dream, her many years of travel and a diverse assortment of careers have taken her across most of the U.S. and shown her that there are two things you can never have enough of: love and laughter. Check out these other titles by Chrissy Munder…
Bridge of Dreams by Chrissy Munder 21 ©Copyright Chrissy Munder, 2008 Published by Dreamspinner Press 4760 Preston Road Suite 244-149 Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/ This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. Cover Art by Dan Skinner/Cerberus Inc.
[email protected] Cover Design by Mara McKennen This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the publisher. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 4760 Preston Road, Suite 244-149, Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/ Released in the United States of America August, 2008
