Light for a Vanished Sun - Shusta, Midge
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Brenda froze in the stable where she lay. Strangers with painted clubs crept through the pueblo, starlight glinting off their silver necklaces, belts and ear loops. Quiet as fog they entered individual houses. First came the crack as bones were crushed, then the shrieks of terror. A screaming woman ran past the stall with a naked infant in her arms. "Navajo! Navajo!" She cried as if it were as vile a curse as she could utter. The girls crouched in the far corner of the stall, trying to be still, unnoticed. But their bodies shook with fright and. Merrilee began to wail. "Hush, baby, hush!"…mehr

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Produktbeschreibung
Brenda froze in the stable where she lay. Strangers with painted clubs crept through the pueblo, starlight glinting off their silver necklaces, belts and ear loops. Quiet as fog they entered individual houses. First came the crack as bones were crushed, then the shrieks of terror. A screaming woman ran past the stall with a naked infant in her arms. "Navajo! Navajo!" She cried as if it were as vile a curse as she could utter. The girls crouched in the far corner of the stall, trying to be still, unnoticed. But their bodies shook with fright and. Merrilee began to wail. "Hush, baby, hush!" Brenda charged, shielding her sister between herself and the wall. "They can't see us. Everything will be okay. Just be quiet." She tried to close her eyes and pretend that they were all having the same nightmare but her eyes wouldn't stay shut and she watched the dark, hair-raising spectacle that ran wild in the center of the pueblo. The invaders lit torches from the live coals in the central fire pit and eerie, nimble shadows flickered across her vision like a video game. One of the strange men lifted a woman over his shoulder and raced into the night. Dogs barked; children howled; women shrieked and in the midst of the din came the sickening sounds of bones cracking beneath the heavy blows of the clubs. Sarah crept to the stall opening. "Oh, Jesus," Brenda breathed, "Lord, Jesus . . . help!" Sarah crawled back, "They're cracking people's skulls out there . . ."
Autorenporträt
"MIDGE SHUSTA believes the English language, though a problem for some, is a beautiful living thing. English, remaining true to its roots, still adopts words from other countries and manages with few difficulties to insert them into ordinary speech, creating a rich, vibrant language perfect for the written word, "Gesundheit!" Midge Shusta lives in Martinez, California with her husband Bob and Kiera, the cat. They have three grown children and nine totally amazing grandchildren who adore her. Writing for Midge is like breathing to others. Her Cherokee father and Irish/ German mother have provided substantial fodder for her novels and most of her work comes from her heritage."