SUMMER OF THE EAGLE

My newest Native American Romance novel, Summer of the Eagle, will be available April 3rd, 2007. This new book is very exciting for me as it introduces SpiritWalkers, an ancient race of Native Americans descended from the Gods.

Summer of the Eagle is the story of Blaze, a Sioux woman with haunting dreams and strange powers that no one can explain, not even her father. Luc is a trapper. His parents and his sisters are SpiritWalkers, descendants of an ancient race of beings who have the power of the Gods to become as one with their world.

As soon as Luc sees Blaze, he instantly recognizes her for what she is: a SpiritWalker. She carries the distinct mark of the ancient race but she has no idea what she is.

To survive and save Luc's sisters, Blaze must learn who and what she is and must trust Luc to help her in her discovery of the wonders of being a SpiritWalker. Journey with Luc and Blaze as they journey a path that forces them to search their hearts and souls for the truth.

Leisure Books
ISBN # 0-8439-5335-0
April 2007

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Skan, Wi, Inyan and Maka are Superior Gods.  They are also known as Creator, Chief God and Great Spirit.  Four Gods yet they are as one.  They are mysterious.  They are Wakan Tanka. 

PROLOGUE

          The little girl  danced and skipped along the shoreline of a deep blue lake.  A small shallow finger of water trailed inland.  She splashed through the water, sending glistening diamond–bright droplets flying around her. 

          Named after the stars in the night sky, Taya laughed and giggled.  As she romped happily, her long blue-black hair flew around her head.  Her legs were short and thin beneath her long, fringed doeskin but the body of the child held the promise of grace and beauty.

          She breathed in the warm pine-scented air:  her gaze absorbed the beauty of forest, sky and lake.  Though she was young, she was a child of the land and as such, she was at one with her world. A long shadow flew before her on the sandy soil.  Taya ran, trying to catch it.  She glanced over her shoulder and waved her hands at the magnificent white-headed eagle flying  overhead. 

          The bird’s wingspan was double her size and as it flew low along the shoreline, she spread her arms out as wide as she could and broke out into excited shouts.  “Miye kinyan!  Miye kinyan!”  I fly!  I fly!  

          Rising high, the eagle cut across the lake.  Taya stopped to wait for the bird to return.  Once more she took off running with her hands out to the sides, her gaze on the ground in front of her as her shadow and that of the eagle’s came together:  spirits of bird and child joining then separating as the eagle once again rose high into the sky. 

          Taya clapped her hands together and stood, face upturned as the eagle made another pass, this time, coming in low to brush one wingtip across the top of Taya’s head.  It gave a shrill, high pitched cry as it rose once again high into the air.

          “Ina.” When the  bird took wing over the lake, she twirled in a tight circle, her arms out, the fringe beneath her arms flying and waving with each movement.  Dizzy, she dropped to the ground.  Out over the lake, a second eagle joined the first.  This one was slightly smaller, a male, and it gave chase to its mate. 

          Sighing wistfully, the little girl watched the pair of regal birds soar together then dip down to drag their bright yellow talons over the surface of the lake then rise high.  The sky was their throne, their cloaks made from the greens of the earth, lined with the shimmering gold of the setting sun and edged with the silvery-white of the clouds.

          The pair of eagles made a last sweeping flight over Taya, each tipping a tapered wingtip as though bidding her goodnight.  “Miye kinyan,” she whispered as she stood to return home.  With a happy grin on her face, Taya spread her arms out wide and pretended that she too was flying as she ran across the deserted shoreline. 

          Eager anticipation settled deep inside her.  Someday, she would fly.  Strands of her silky blue-black hair swirled into her face, curtaining her vision.  A sudden darkness that had nothing to do with her hair in her eyes made her come to an abrupt halt.  She held herself still as she listened to the whispers that came to her on the breath of Tate, the Wind spirit.  Around her, the world seemed to pulse and vibrate, a warning that something was wrong.  Instincts that came from more than just a child of the land hummed through her body and made her feel afraid.  

          She shoved her hair out of her face, her gaze locked onto the retreating pair of eagles.  She opened her mouth to call them back but before she could utter a sound, an arrow flew out from the thick canopy of leaves. The feathered shaft rose into the air and slammed into the smaller of the two birds.  The bird gave a shrill shriek then plummeted like a stone falling from the sky.  Shock sent Taya tumbling to her knees. 

          Around her, the world went oddly silent but for the anguished cry of the female eagle going into a blurring dive after her mate.   A slow buzzing grew in Taya’s ears as her intelligent mind tried to reject what was happening.  Before she could react, think or even scream her denial, a second arrow zinged upward. 

          The speed of arrow and bird crashed together, and the sharp arrowhead cleaved straight through feather, bone and flesh of the second eagle.  The arrow continued upward then fell to the earth with the mortally wounded bird. 

          Taya screamed in terror, the sound slashing into fragments the pre twilight beauty.  With each scream, the world came apart bit by bit.  The wind roared across the lake, churning and agitating the water, sending waves crashing to shore with enough force to shatter the smooth beauty of the shoreline. 

          Water parted around the little girl.  Taya dug her fingers into the wet soil as though seeking to anchor herself to the earth.  The wind struck the wall of forest with a fury that bent the tips of tall hundred-foot pines, cedar and spruce and ripped branches from trees and slapped cone-shaped fruit high into the air. 

          Far away, the sun dimmed for a heartbeat in time then flared bright white, sending tongues of flames shooting across the seething clouds that boiled and gathered and swallowed the regal blues, golds and pinks of what had been a pretty, pastel sunset.  Taya, unaware of the violence around her, continued to scream in shock and horror.  Her eyes blazed with blue fire.  Pain and fury shimmered deep in their depths and fueled the raging elements.  A sudden slash of lightening followed by a crash of thunder spurred her into action.  She stumbled to her feet and ran. 

          “Ina.” 

          “Ate.”

          The howling wind devoured her cries for her mother and father.  Lightening scored the sky, thunder drowned out all sound.  Beneath her feet, the ground trembled.  Animals in the forest scurried to safety, birds huddled together, their young tucked securely beneath their wings, but the child didn’t cower or hide from the Thunder Beings.    

          She ran along the twisting shoreline and didn’t slow when she saw a tall warrior step out from the cover of trees and brush, his attention focused on the gathering storm above his head.  He didn’t see Taya, didn’t see her fall to her knees or hear her screams of outrage or see the fear in her eyes.  The wind whipped and tore at the hunter’s braids, his clothing and the quiver of arrows on his back.  He pushed himself forward, fighting the storm.  The air crackled with emotion and the beat of another sound. 

          Drums.

          The heavy pounding struck the air with the force of a blow as the hard and fierce tempo matched the emotion of the elements.  The warrior glanced anxiously into the grove of trees as though debating whether to seek safety.  After a brief moment of indecision, the warrior leaned into the wind to go claim the prize of his hunt.

          Behind him, Taya went sprawling twice more.  Bright flashes of light illuminated the boiling mass of dark, angry clouds and where forest and water met, the warrior stopped abruptly and when he knelt,  Taya jumped onto his back and struck out at him with her fists.

          “Hiya!  No!  Do not touch them,” she screamed, her voice thick with rage, pain and fright.   A loud crackle overhead drowned out her screams.  The warrior whirled around.  Taya lost her grip and landed on the hard ground.  She rolled onto her hands and knees, her gaze locked onto the slain bodies of two humans, a man and a female. 

          The male had an arrow protruding from his heart, the female had a gaping hole in her chest.  Blood ran in rivers down her father’s chest and created a dark, ugly stain on her mother’s soft, doeskin dress.  Her heart shattered into tiny pieces and tears of grief blurred her sight. 

          “Ina.” She cried for her mother, her fists tangled in her mother’s long, silky black hair.  She turned to her father, brushed her trembling hands over his still face.  His eyes were open but unable to see or hear his daughter’s grief.

          “Ate.”  She sobbed as she shook her father’s shoulders. 

          “Wake,” she pleaded.  She rubbed her wet cheeks against her mother’s cold face and begged her to wake up but neither woke, neither moved.

          “What magic is this?” the warrior asked.  His voice trembled as he grabbed the child by the arm.

          Taya kicked, bit and hit him with clenched fists.  Screaming, filled with a rage that she’d never before felt, she fought for her own survival.  Even at her young age, she knew it was too late for her parents.  Behind them,  a tree burst into flame.  Startled, the warrior dropped her, giving Taya the opportunity to grab her mother’s knife. 

          At only six winters old, she was perfectly capable of avenging the deaths of her parents.  She whirled around and charged the warrior, her hand held high, her voice shrill.  “You killed them.  You die.”  Her heart pounded to the primitive rhythm of drums in the distance.

          The warrior looked confused and frightened but not of her, after all, she was just a child.  He easily twisted the knife from her hand then knocked her to one side as though she was nothing more than an annoying insect.

          Taya felt herself flying.  Flying like the birds.  She landed hard, hitting her head on a rock.  Pain pierced her head then she rolled onto her back beside her dead mother.  She stared up into the sky where flames scorched a path through dark clouds and bright white jagged bolts splintered the heavens. 

          Beneath her, she felt the fury of Wakinyan as the Thunder Being shook the earth.  Though the world above her was on fire and the air around her chillingly cold, she was no longer afraid.  Like her parents, she lay perfectly still.  Like them, she would die and go to the spirit world.  Perhaps there she could fly. 

          Like them.  With them.

          Taya welcomed the calm, soothing white light coming at her, surrounding her, bathing her.  All went eerily silent but for the heavy beat of drumming in the air.  Even that faded into silence and suddenly, she found herself floating above the bodies of her mother and father.  As the world spun, taking her away from her parents, she watched the warrior grab the little girl and run.

(This is an uncorrected/unrevised/unedited Author Galleys excerpt)