Skinwalker

“You got my doll?”

 

 

“I got it,” I said. I had found a doll maker on the back-streets of the French Quarter and ordered a Cherokee doll with long hair and yellow eyes. The porcelain, hand-carved doll wore traditional Cherokee garb and carried a bow and arrow just like Angie wanted. An entire wardrobe was being hand-stitched by a local woman, both modern clothes and more traditional garb. “It’s a beauty. She looks like this Cherokee girl I saw in a mural. Her name was Ka Nvsita, which means dogwood.”

 

“Yes!” the little girl said. I could picture the fist in the air, a gesture she had picked up from her dad. “I love you, Aunt Jane.”

 

“I love you, too, Angelina.”

 

Beast purred. Kits . . .

 

The phone clicked and I saw the CALL DISCONNECTED message. I raced outside for my bike, helmeting up as I ran.

 

 

 

 

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

 

 

A native of Louisiana, Faith Hunter spent her early years on the bayou and rivers, learning survival skills and the womanly arts. She liked horses, dogs, fishing, and crabbing much better than girly things. She still does. In grade school, she fell in love with fantasy and science fiction, reading five books a week.

 

Faith now shares her life with her Renaissance Man and their dogs. She is the author of the Rogue Mage novels: Bloodring, Seraphs, and Host.

 

To find out more, go to www.faithhunter.net.

Faith Hunter's books