Native American Mystery Novels Novels & Stories

I know how to track Mom and Esteban—and those walking mummies! I jolt upright in bed. Zak dives into a defensive crouch in front of me like someone just broke in. God, I love this man. I might have to reward that. Arya: What is it? Summer: We need to involve the original trackers of this continent. Native American and Aztec warriors. They know this land better than anyone—and they’ll be able to spot magical irregularities. Rowen: Holy shit, that’s brilliant! Summer (dryly): Don’t sound so surprised.

Part of our human blood comes from her Native American linage, she was beautiful, with very black hair, her skin in a reddish tan, her narrow eyes, tall and strong, she looked like a Cherokee warrior. We lost our parents suddenly and Onika was still so little to die that way, my sister’s body was never found, we believe she was eaten by some wild animal, or she may have fallen in some waterfall. When they died, we barely had time to cry. The fear of being found out was bigger then any fragility and, in the my father’s absence, I became the alpha male of our little pack, my brothers. It was a lot to deal with and I felt our house being watched many times, my instincts are never wrong.

The new land provided everything Ricard and I had hoped for. Untold miles of forest and hills to explore, isolated farms, small towns and villages, and a few growing cities for when we felt the need to prowl the streets of a more urban setting. We fed where and when we wished, making no distinction between the dark-skinned native peoples and the newly arrived immigrants from our former homeland. As Ricard had predicted, America was for the most part a savage land. Only in the cities did we bother to hide our kills. Otherwise, we let the deaths be chalked up to the warring tribes and wild animals that filled the sparsely populated sections that made up most of the country.

Saltzman and told him she needed the day off. These mountains and valleys have been traversed by ancient tribal elders such as Sitting Bull, Crazy Horse, and Red Cloud back in the good old days. They had climbed to the peaks of the mountains in search of visions, they had hunted buffalo on the plains, and they had vanquished Custer in a battle that is still talked about by red men and white men alike. In a last-ditch effort to resist the white settlers and preserve the indigenous people's way of life in the Hills, Sitting Bull had rallied the various tribes to join forces against the invaders. She frequently pondered what her life might be like now if the Native Americans had been victorious

“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.

“For now. I need you to do some research. I want you to understand some terms. Like dream walker and spirit walker. I want you to understand the difference.” “Anything else,” asked Ava. Sounding more willing than she did before. “Yes,” stated Willow simply. “I want you to read up some Native American legends. If you have questions, I don’t want you to be afraid to ask.” Then the ghostly image of an elder Native woman was gone. Leaving Ava Miller alone in her room, once more. “I really hope that I’m not losing it,” whispered the twenty-year-old woman.

He nodded and I felt his reluctance tugging at the link between us, "What do you know about the Utes people?" Cocking a brow, I shrugged, "Native American tribe that can be found in a few locations. They are believed to be walking the Earth since the beginning of time. Why?" "There is a legend that they have, its called the legend of the fire wolf. Let me explain from the beginning," he passed a look to my dad, bringing him into the mind link so he wouldn't be left out of the conversation, "whenever something troubled you, I always knew. I didn't understand it then but when you shifted for the first time things became clearer. You confided in me about your dreams and the mystery voice. When

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.

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.