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My novel, Ghosthunter is available here, www.synergebooks.com/ebook_ghosthunter.html Ghosthunter is a Native Americab supernatural western, set in Oklahoma and Kansas in the 1880s, Below is the Prolog and a review.


Prologue
Ned Vance sat on the outcropping of rocks, overlooking the cliffs. He watched as gophers and
mice scurried over the rocks, darting between cracks, escaping the watchful eyes of the two
Eagles that flew overhead. Ned looked skyward, watching the two Eagles catch the updraft. The
birds flew ever higher, without once flapping their wings.

The sun pounded down on his body. He still felt the thirst that almost overtook him the day
before. Hunger had left him long ago. He sat with his legs crossed at the ankles in front of him.
His hands lay palm up on his knees. His breech-cloth, the only clothing he wore, hung loosely
between his legs. Three days he had sat in the Oklahoma sun, enduring hunger and thirst, in
search of a vision to guide him in his life. Ned was only fourteen and many thought him too young
to be seeking a vision. But Ned and his grandfather knew the time was right for him. He wasn't
worried that no vision had come to him yet. He knew that one would come. His whole being
shook with anticipation. He lifted his hands toward the sky and once again began to pray.
This time something strange began to happen. The sky began to darken. The two Eagles soaring
high above him began to fall rapidly toward him. Their form began to change. They were no
longer Eagles, but had turned into much larger birds. The whiteness that had covered their heads
and tails had turned to solid black. In fact, the birds were so black that the sky around them
darkened as they passed. The birds landed on either side of Ned. He sat there, unflinching, as the
birds cawed out thunder. Lightening flashed from the birds' eyes and still the young man did not
move.

Ned began to ask the birds questions. His grandfather had told him to ask any spirits that showed
themselves to him certain questions.

"Who are you? Where did you come from and where are you going? And have you brought me
anything?"

After asking the questions, Ned sat still and waited. The birds approached the circle of tobacco
that Ned had surrounded himself with. They began to speak to him, each bird saying the same
thing at the same time so that their words echoed in his ears.

"We are the thunder beings," they began. "We have come from the above world and we came only
to see you."

"I am honored that you have come to see me," Ned said.

"Don't be so quick to feel honored, boy," the birds said. "We have come to bring you gifts, but
gifts that only a foolish boy might accept." The birds moved in a circle around Ned. "Long ago,
the people violated the land of the dead and for that reason men cannot cross over anymore
without dying first."

Ned nodded. He had heard the story many times.

"But now, men from the world of the dead are seeking to return to your world. These men want
to return and stay, to walk the earth again in their old bodies. This cannot be allowed. We bring
you gifts so you can stop them."

Ned sat up straighter.

"If you take what we bring you, when the time comes you will have no rest, but you will also have
no fear. We will give you the paint to wear that will protect you and we will sing you the songs to
sing when you put on the paint. We will also give you a companion that will always be with you."

Ned nodded his understanding.

"Will you take our gifts?"

"Yes," was all Ned said.

"Then you are a fool!"

With that, the birds were gone. The sky was clear. Ned looked around him and saw a small pony
standing behind his circle. The pony was a paint. She was white with a black face main and tail
and she had a black lighting bolt on her left flank. There was a gentle mist falling. Ned looked up
and then looked back at the pony.

"I will call you Misty," Ned said.

The horse shook her head as if she was accepting the name.

Ned sat in his circle another day, listening to the songs the thunder birds were singing to him.

* * * *

Ned rode his pony out of the mountains; his Grandfather waited for him at the base. When he saw
his grandson riding down the mountain, he began to sing. Ned jumped from his horse and hugged
his grandfather. The boy was burnt by the sun and was skinnier than he had been four days ago.
His grandfather opened the door of the sweat lodge and the young boy entered it. Once inside, his
grandfather poured water over hot rocks and began to speak in a slow voice so his grandson
could hear ever word clearly.

"Four days ago, a young boy climbed into the mountains to seek his vision from the creator of all
things. Now that boy is gone forever. Today, a young man returns, but he is no ordinary man. He
is a Ghosthunter! He will protect our world from those who no longer have a popper place here.
Ha! I am honored to sit before the Ghosthunter!"

Ned's grandfather opened the door of the sweat and crawled out. Ned followed him. When the
boy emerged from the sweat lodge, his grandfather gasped. The boy's face was painted with black
paint on the left side and red paint on the right. His grandfather nodded to him.

"They have all ready made it so," Grandfather said.

A Book Review:

Review for
Ghosthunter
Author:
Michael Saunders
Watch out, people, there's a new writing sheriff in town, and his name is Michael Saunders.

I have enjoyed a few Louis Lamour and Zane Grey books in my day, having lived in the Southwest
for so many years, but had gotten away from the genre as of late. Then comes the blazing story of
Ghosthunter, and I am donning my 6 shooters and tightening my bodice. Honestly, I was not
prepared to be so taken away by this Cherokee tale of rites of passage, spirituality of the Native
American, and the downright scariness of our shadowed, supernatural dark-side. It's a page-turner,
folks...

The opening pages of the book, caught my attention post haste. The principal character, Ned, is a
young man involved in a Vision Quest... taking himself apart from the tribe for a period of fasting and
praying in an effort to discover his calling and purpose. Can't tell you anymore, it would give it away.
Having been involved in Spirit Quests, I know the power of these ventures.

Saunders is well versed in his Native American rituals, ways, and meanings of the Cherokee people.
I came away with a feeling of having gained more knowledge of the people of my ancestry.
A great read!

~ Sandra G. Gaskin

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