Sweet Saturday Samples

I’m trying something new this week. I’m taking part in the Sweet Saturday Samples mini hop over on the Sweet Saturday Samples blog. #SweetSat Follow this link to the other participating authors.

http://sweetsatsample.wordpress.com/ Today I’m offering up a sample from book 1  in my saga about an ancient shaman who wakes one day and finds his reason for existence has been plowed under to make room for development.

The Witchy Wolf and the Wendigo (Book 1 Askewheteasu)

Setting the Stage:
With no idea the animal she’s been treating is in fact a 3000 year old shaman with the ability to shape-shift into a wolfish-looking dog, Livie takes her healing patient home from the veterinary hospital. He’s refusing food and water there and she hopes a home environment will perk him up while they wait for his owner to see the found dog posters.  In this scene, Ash sees a TV for the first time.

The Witchy Wolf and the Wendigo Sample:

Olivia was surprised when the wolf-cross pulled the leash out of her hand. More so when he picked it up and carried in his mouth as he haltingly paced up the walkway to her house. She’d seen excited dogs hold their leashes before but she got the strangest impression this dog just didn’t want to be led. She opened the door as he waited.

“After you. Let’s find some dinner, I’ll bet you’re hungry.”

Inside the house, Ash took a deep breath, his keen sense of smell in this form touching upon every detail of the place. This was her place. He struggled for the name he’d heard the man of the People use when addressing her. Livie. This was Livie’s home. He’d never been inside one of their structures before, though he’d often take the shape of a chipmunk or crow and draw near enough to listen to them.

They’d changed much in the centuries they’d been here, these strange people. He watched them clear the land and build their villages, watched those villages change and the people with them. Their machines changed too, as did their animals. From beasts to pull their carts, to the machines that took their place, the white men seemed to always hurry. Hurry and destroy.

He’d watched them closely in the last fifty years, partly because there were so many now that lived a short distance from his cave, and partly because they’d changed as a people, and he didn’t understand why. They no longer seemed to care about anything around them. They’d sit outside their homes and cook their food without wood while their impolite children shrieked and splashed in what they referred to as a pool. They talked about things that seemed trivial to him but extremely important to them. On one level, he found them fascinating as he learned their language. His belly suddenly clenched as images of his wife’s defiled grave flashed before his eyes. On another level, he found them greedy beyond measure. Livie was not that way, nor was the small woman Jenni. They were extremely caring, even in the way they addressed one another.

Out of habit and loneliness, Olivia picked up the TV remote and turned on the television for background noise. She stood a moment surfing through the channels. The news was too much to handle sometimes and reality TV too mean-spirited to enjoy. Settling upon a channel that played benign black-and-white TV series, she turned to her four-legged guest. “Go on. Go see what that nose can sniff out while I figure out what to feed you.”

Ash hadn’t notice she’d left the room. He stared at the noisy box in disbelief. People — many people — were inside the small box talking. Odder still, he heard the laughter of others and looked around, expecting to see them. He narrowed his eyes at the box. What is this thing? Suddenly, the people were colorful and louder. Too loud for his sensitive wolf ears. He took several steps back, watching as a boy dripped food on his chest. Then a woman, his mother presumably, took his clothing, and poured thick blue liquid on it. A moment later, the clothes were new.

Just as suddenly, a young woman held one of those voice boxes to her ear. It was nearly identical to the voice box Livie talked into earlier. Phone, she called it. Again the scene changed. Women wearing grass skirts danced to loud fast music and an enormous canoe moved swiftly over white-capped water. Ash looked down, expecting the floor to be wet, but it wasn’t. A man’s voice said, “Hawaii Five Oh, tonight at eight.”

Once more, the color was gone from the loud box and gray people reappeared. He watched them talk while invisible people laughed again. Then Ash couldn’t believe what his eyes were seeing. It was a white horse. While there were no such animals here until the white men brought them to this land, in the last hundred years he’d become familiar with the large gentle beasts. But this was no ordinary horse. This horse was speaking like a man. The gray man having a conversation with it was not surprised at all!

“Come here, puppy. You need some water.” Olivia called from the kitchen.

Though his mind filled with questions on the subject of this talking horse, Ash limped on three legs toward Livie’s voice. He found her filling a bowl with water which flowed indoors from a shiny pipe.

Setting the bowl on the floor, she coaxed, “Come on, baby. You have to drink it yourself or I’ll have to take you back. Come on ….” Olivia cupped a handful of water and slowly trickled it into the bowl, hoping the sound would encourage him to drink.

Here’s the Story

Read the Origin of the Tale at USA Today

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