Title:
Medicine Man 1
Author:
S.R. Howen
Publisher: Wild
Child Publishing .
Length: Novel (332 pages)
Sub-Genres:
Horror/Spirtiual/Romance
BLURB
Shannon
Running Deer is American Indian by blood, he has
forsaken his people's ancient ways to embrace the "modern" world as a
wealthy, highly successful trauma surgeon.
His
comfortable existence begins to unravel when, seemingly by chance, Shannon
finds himself gradually drawn into the past. Pursued by an ancient evil, he
knows he can change the future, if he can survive the past.
In
the tradition of Diana Gabaldon, S.R. Howen's
MEDICINE MAN is a distinctive and atmospheric novel full of spirituality,
mystical time travel, romance, passion, and suspense.
EXCERPT
She stood up, undid her jeans, and started
lowering them as if I were not staring at her like some lusty teenager. I fled
the room and shut the door on her seductive form. I stood in the hallway,
leaned against the wall with my eyes shut, and tried to still the passion she
invoked in me. I knew she didn’t wear a bra; the absent top buttons on her
shirt made it obvious. She also didn’t wear any underwear. Not unless they were
much lower on her hips than her partly lowered jeans. In all my adult life, I
had never felt like this before.
“You could have her.
Take her,” the elk-man’s voice echoed.
“You’ve been too long
without a wife,” my grandfather said.
“Leave me alone,” I
said, as much to the elk-man voice as to my grandfather.
“You have been too long
without a wife,” my grandfather repeated. “Even I remember what it was like to
be that ready for a woman.”
I tried to yank my shirt
down further before I opened my eyes to tell him to mind his own business. I
got a good view of his back as he went into the guest room. The door shut with
a firm thump. The sound of the lock turning made me shake my head.
My grandfather was at
his exasperating best. Later, he would wander out of there to raid the
refrigerator for whatever he could find. I went into the kitchen and put the
tea kettle on the stove. The burner lit with a faint whoosh, and I experienced
a flash of the medicine dances I’d attended in my youth. The tribal medicine
man would throw fine sulfur dust into the fire to make it do the same thing. A
grand show, as was everything medicine men did. None of their tricks had worked
for my father.
My father, being a firm
believer in the old ways, wouldn't seek out modern medicine past the point of
being told he had terminal cancer. He wouldn’t even consider modern healing
mixed with the old beliefs. My own mother turned her back on me after he died.
The teapot shrilled, and
Morning Dove’s voice came from the doorway. “I am very tired.”
I took a mug from the
shelf above the sink. From a different cupboard, I took down the box of
nighttime tea I kept there. I added water and tea to the mug and watched the
steam for a moment, before I held it out to her.
“It will help you
sleep,” I said when she just looked at the cup.
“I have had enough
white-man’s medicines put into me already.” Her eyes flashed with what I took
for humor.
“This is a mixture of
natural herbs, no preservatives, no artificial colorings, no caffeine. . . ”
With a smile, she took
the cup. Her fingers brushed against mine, sending an electric chill along my nerves.
I led the way to my study and turned on the gas fireplace. Morning Dove went to
the thick sheepskin rug in front of it and sat down. While she sipped the tea,
I went to the closet and retrieved a pillow and some blankets. I paused with
them in hand to watch her. She sat in the terry robe and held the mug in both
hands. She took a small sip and stared into the fire.
Her hair hung down over
the robes back in a glimmering wet curtain. One corner of the robe slipped down
to reveal her shoulder. I wanted to sink to the floor and wrap myself around
her. With a grunt, I pulled myself away from thoughts of intimacy with her. I
covered the couch with a sheet and punched the pillow a few times--to fluff it.
The gate buzzer sounded
loudly in the silent room. What nut would be out on a night like this unless
they had to be? I pulled the door to the study shut and went to answer the gate
intercom.
No one answered. When I
turned away from it, thinking the storm had made it go off, it buzzed again.
Loud and insistent. I jabbed the button.
“Who’s there?”
I heard nothing in
return except the thunder rumbling overhead. I pulled open the front door. Down
the drive, through the sheets of rain, it looked like a set of round headlights
on the other side of the gate. My brother’s Jeep?
I reached back inside
and pushed the button to open the gate.
Lightening cracked so
bright I couldn’t see for a moment. I blinked back the brightness, tried to
blink it away again.
It didn’t help. The deer
filling my driveway didn’t go away. They ran past the house in a steady stream,
an entire herd. Where had they come from? The drums sounded behind me.
BUY LINK
Wild Child:
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I
currently work as an editor at Wild Child Publishing (since 1998) and also
mentor several beginning writers. My publications include, THE FORGE:
DISCOVERIES(Erotica with four star and above reviews)(Freya's Bower) under the
pen name Shaunna Wolf, and upcoming from WCP; TALES OF THE ZINGARI:THE WIZARD’S
HEART (Romance), and MEDICINE MAN: THE CHIEF OF ALL TIME (Supernatural
suspense) as S.R.Howen.
Twitter: https://twitter.com/SRHowen
Author Web Site: http://srhowen.wix.com/srhowen-1#!home/mainPage
Facebook Author's Page: http://www.facebook.com/srhowen1?ref=hl
Book Blogs: http://bookblogs.ning.com/profile/SRHowen
Amazon Author's Page: http://www.amazon.com/Shaunna-Wolf/e/B008HT798M/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1
Thanks for Having me!
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