Cherokee Stories Novels & Stories

"Everyone, welcome to tonight's gathering. We have been doing this every week and for years, we have waited for this moment to finally welcome our new generation of warriors. When you were younger, we have been filling you with magical tales of our ancestors' past. The history of how our tribe the descendants of the Great Robe Chippewa was able to battle the monsters that are a plague to our land, the undead, the vampires, and our most tenacious foe the immortals." Dean coughed a chuckle and Zeeb nudged him with his elbow. Chief, looked sharply at them. "You youngsters might think this is a joke, but you should know that every story we have told is the truth. It might be hard to imagine the

“Why?” “Unlike any other noble woman who are known for submissiveness, tis tribe lady is very stubborn. She did not wear the silk gown prepared for her and insisted into wearing her tribe dress.” She told them. “And that enrage the prince in silence. It was hate and hate for both of them. But they fell in love.” Shima clasped her hands. “ Lovely. Never did that recorded in our history scrolls.” “Yea. Might be a false tale for entertainment.” Chae added although she too was touched by the short story.

“To tell me the Ancestors have been disturbed and they don’t like it.” “Do you really believe that sort of thing?” Greer asked. “Yes, we do,” Shyla admitted. “You might not, but the Cherokee believe.” She shrugged. “Maybe not like they did a hundred years ago, but we grew up on stories of the Old Ones. We’ve lived on this Ridge for two hundred years and the stories we heard as children have been passed down from generation to generation. We have been taught to respect it.” Breed nodded. “Speaking of that…” He stared at Shyla then glanced at Greer.

Sands assured Cherokee as she patted her hand. "Do you need help with anything?" Cherokee asked as she stood up from the wooden bar stool. "I should have asked earlier, my Agilisi would be furious," "Your who?" Mrs. Sands questioned as she turned around raising an eyebrow. "Ah-gey-lee-see means grandmother in Cherokee," Cherokee giggled as she grabbed an orange from the fruit basket in front of her. "I see, so you're Native American," Mrs. Sands inquired as she grabbed a rag from the drawer and started to wipe down the counter. "The Petersons must have had a field day with you," She laughed.

Suit pouted childishly at Anderson, and continued, “Do we have a deal, Mr. Anderson?” Anderson stared back and forth between Suit and the scroll. His mind was racing. The contract sounded simple enough. Straightforward, but he did not understand. ‘What did he mean by survive ten stories? Did he not say I was going to tell a story? What does survive the story mean?’ Question after question popped up into his head. He could not help himself. He had no idea exactly what it meant, but one thing was for certain; He would not move forward if he did nothing but constantly question the situation.