Native American Graphic Novel Novels & Stories

"This whole section needs replacing. We can work down the line." "Okay." Nate followed the foreman's cues. They used a sledgehammer on the boards that were rotten or loose, then Nate held the new section while Nakos nailed them in place. They got a few done before Nate spoke again. "Where's the reservation?" "Between here and the Thunder Basin National Grasslands." Nakos pointed due north. "Arapaho tribe." Nate had never heard of it. He and Justin had served with a guy who was part Cherokee, but that was the extent of Nate's knowledge on Native Americans. "What's that phrase you say to Olivia every morning?"

“We’re looking for more of the same type of work you’ve already done for us, though you may not have known it at the time.” I waited for a moment for him to continue, which he obliged to do. “Last year, when you were consulted regarding the differences between different Native American tribal traditions regarding skinwalkers, your insight resulted in the capture of one and the saving of many lives of those who would have been its victims.” “The capture of a skinwalker?” I was so incredulous that I caught myself being open-mouthed and shut it, quickly composing myself. This guy seemed serious, completely sincere and straight in his delivery.

from every warrior and we walked away. The four of us walked back to the pack house and we went to the office. Andrew broke out the chart for the mall, and we all walked into the conference room where we could spread out. The giant chart was unrolled and I started studying it while Jacob started pointing out what stores were going in and where they would be going. I told them, “I need you to keep a couple slots open on the first floor. Honi and her family want to start a store with authentic Native American tribal pieces. Proceeds from the sales of each piece sold will go to the reservations they came from.” Andrew smiled, “I really like that idea.” Jacob smiled, “I do too.”

My fingertips gently caressed the cover as my eyes never left it. "My family has had this heirloom in the family for generations. Fathers would pass it down to their sons, but all of their children knew about it. It was the son's responsibility to carry it forward, since they would be the ones to carry the name. It was told that we were entrusted with something very important. A secret... a weapon... and one day the person that gave us this responsibility would return. Talako was the name of one of my ancestors on my father side. He was a Choctaw, but ended up leaving due to his parents being killed. His mother gave him to a friend. Some natives were wolves, but not all of them. The wolves p

The pack house was rammed when I crept out of the library. I’d intended to get my bandages changed before dinner, but I’d become sucked into my research. I discovered that many Native Americans offered their animal fetishes cornmeal, so I resolved to find some for my little wolf.

through the waves of time,and the influence by other cultures. This book,aims at capturing a set of activities through a narrative,where Enkanasa village represents the African roots,from where a young man leading an almost hopeless life,falls into great hands and becomes a great man not only to his village but to his community and country.It brings out the harsh life that some boys go through in a bid to secure their parents wealth,and to protect the community,as worriors.

He stared at me looking serious and then said it: “The warriors from Martin, Coulter and Person packs are here, all our people is gathered so we can invoke Mother Earth power and ask for Adam health. I know we seem savages, primitive, but that’s how we are Samantha. We are not ashamed of the animal, of the wolf that is inside us, we lycans with Cherokee blood believe that to reconnect with nature can bring the cure to Adam’s body. If you don’t want to be a part of it, you can stay inside the house with Ayobe. Hunter, Connor, get Adam carefully and let’s start.” I got up and asked Hunter if I could be a part of it, he nodded. We got outside the cabin, around thirty men were waiting for us. Al

“I was originally from a reservation in North Dakota—” “For native Americans?” “Yes, but we are of a different kinship even though we share the same ancestors. They are… different from us. We possess the ability to shapeshift… they call us the wulfclan,” she paused when she said that and searched Cole’s eyes for reaction and found none.

“I suppose so, yes. Although . . . I did read something once.” Katie straightened. “What was that?” “It was in a book of Native American folklore, I think. It said that when someone’s eyes were put out on purpose, it was sometimes done so they would wander blindly in death, their spirit lost forever, and the victim could never find their way back again from the afterlife.” She smiled. “It doesn’t really work that way.” “Ah. Right.” Katie heard Clemency stifle a yawn on his end. “Sorry for the late-night call,” she said. “I better let you go.”

"Now that they are gone." Those words were like a peal of thunder on Mizu's ears, a bolt of lightning that strikes her flaming heart. Eyes crazily looked around, all that caught her vision were people giggling and laughing on how thankful they are on the happening. Hands in a clench, blood in boils, burning hatred slowly consuming her, she out cried, "ARE YOU, PEOPLE, STILL HUMAN?! Y'ALL ROTTEN AS F*CK!"