Novel & Cerita American Indian Mystery Novels

The mystic's tightly curled afro bounced as she sauntered around Consuela, and her intricate crown of seaweed and corals lie perfectly tilted on her head. "Here I am in the flesh, Consuela, Queen of the Jumbies. I do enjoy being in the company of regality, seeing as I myself am a queen." Every word which slipped off her tongue and through the ruby red lipstick decorating her lips were filled with confidence. Consuela had no idea what was happening, but she knew she needed answers soon. If Ma Len's stories were true, it would not be long before the mystic attempted to snatch her into the underworld of the pond.

"So, you're saying that when it happened, that SUV was basically a sealed metal box. No one came in, and no one got out." I tightened the blanket around me, knuckles white as I gripped the edge. The words "sealed metal box" pressed down on my chest until I could hardly breathe. Why would they lock the doors like that? Normally, on a trip like this, you wouldn't lock up tight—it made getting out for bathroom breaks or whatever too inconvenient. The coroner kept going. "We'll check for mechanical issues. Odds are low, but it's possible there was incomplete combustion from the heater, maybe leaking carbon monoxide. Still, altitude sickness is the stronger theory."

As soon as I cleared the Sydney airport checkpoint on Sunday afternoon, I headed straight for the bookstore. A pile of hardcover books near the entrance caught my eye. The pyramid under construction highlighted Wild, the new book by one of the most popular novelists. The clerk attached “autographed copy” stickers to the covers, which, with their mysterious flames in yellow and red on a black background, gave them a garish touch, drawing attention. As a sociologist specializing in the study of Brazilian aborigines, I knew Daniel. He had aboriginal ancestry and wrote paranormal mystery stories starring a Brazilian aboriginal policeman.

he asked as he offered the freshly rolled cigarette to Roy. Roy took the cigarette and lit it. After taking a long drag, he said, “Years ago I saved an Indian boy from a bunch of hooligans who caught him off-guard while he was out huntin’. His pa was the tribe’s chief and his uncle their well-respected medicine man. By Blackfoot law, they now owe me a favor. Those Indians have memories like elephants. I know he’d remember me and what I done for him. I wonder if it might be a good idea to have him send the medicine man here to check things out. I don’t believe the gal’s a witch, but somethin’ ain’t right.”

He wipes his face with a spare hanky. Why can’t he find it? He pulled out his phone from his pocket. He searches about it then. There had to be something. But what’s he gonna search. Mystery girl? Demon? There must be an ancient name for her. Or there isn’t. He was exhausted already. He ruffled his head, if he didn’t get anything, Dixon would end up killing him. He strolled down his phone. Ancient mystery girl. History search. He hunkered down. Since he was tired of standing.

“Why can Ava see ghosts?” Movement was made and Sammy’s voice calling out, “S... P... I... R... I ... T... W... A... L... K... E... R...” Ida gasped, “Spirit walker. But I had thought only the Native Americans can do that?” June’s voice sounded small, “My mother’s mother was Cherokee.” Ida growled, “Didn’t your grandmother say anything?” “No.” Ava heard her mother sound lost and confused. “She wouldn’t tell anyone anything about her life.”

I smiled and brought out a new novel I got from the store the other day and opened the first chapter to read. There are like ten minutes before assembly starts so I can read at least a chapter or two before it starts. ‘Hmm… interesting’ i thought to myself. “Why didn't I know about this book already?” I muttered under my breath and turned to the next page. “Very interesting.” “I know it is,” I turned my head to see Chris put his bag on the desk beside me and sat down on the chair. “Even though I haven't read it, I know it is interesting”

Rubbing her eyes, she decided to try and open the door, she knew it was going to be locked but she had to try. Opening the door, she was surprised it was unlocked. Maybe Dremis was being nice to her. She followed the long hallway to where the fire was, Dremis wasn’t there. She wondered where he went. Walking over to the stone table, a book sat there opened. She walked over to it; she was sure it was probably in another language. Picking it up, it was in English she was surprised. Reading it, her eyes got big. “Native American blood?” she said reading the rest of it.

The sound replied “Aye, sir” The inspector entered into the Lusie’s grocery store and said hello, Lusie. And asked how was she doing. “Hey, inspector. Doing good”, replied Lusie. He took some medicines and few bottles of beer and came to Lusie. While Lusie was calculating the price, the inspector said to her that he is a bit confused. He also added that he must meet the man who took Jerry home. “Are you serious, is it needed to investigate the incident so far. Don’t you think you are doing too much”, Lusie asked the inspector. “You don’t know Lusie, a boy was lost around that area three months ago. And according to the saying of the family of that boy, the boy used to talk about a man who co

That right there is the only reason he wasnÕt buying into the idea that she was hiding something, that and the fact that theyÕd found nothing to confirm such suspicions. He was beginning to wonder more and more as the day went by just what was happening to his town. In the space of a few months, thereÕve been two murders when there had never been one in his whole lifetime. Not only that, but neither murder had been of the ordinary garden variety. Both had been gruesome and way over the top as far as he was concerned.