The story begins in 1211 AD in what will become the American Southwest, where the ancestors of the Apache hunt and make war on their neighbors. This is a time when a legend, one to be feared, walks the land of the living. Even so, young Tosa-de-zee, a warrior of the fierce Abaáchi, defies his family and embarks upon the red path to take his first scalp. But the keeper of the forest, the Heartwood, has other ideas and young Tosa will lose a friend and perhaps his life.

Fast forward to the present where once again the keeper awakes. A creature of the forest that kills without passion and has no peer when it comes to stalking and the hunt. Its prey; human.

I'm only a few chapters in on this book, bouncing around from the 1500s to the 1900s and back to the present, and I have so many ideas and there are so many possibilities it fairly boggles the mind. Writing it shall be great fun and quite a challenge creating the final story. And, believe it or not, I have no idea how it will turn out.

Abaáchi (Apache) Legend

Do not walk the paths of the forest when the Bad Sticks come.

Coyote danced under the moon. Owl watched from the branch of a tree. Shrew stared out from the grass. “Why do you dance, Coyote?” Owl asked. “They come!” Coyote yipped. “Who? Who?” asked the owl. “Máał!” Coyote laid back his head and howled. “Máał Chishtsáhih!” Owl blinked then closed his eyes, unwilling to see the evil that is was to come. Shrew smiled because for once there would be much to eat. Coyote barked once more at the moon then fled from the trees for the safety of the desert. Coyote loved to play, and loved to play jokes on the people, but there would be no jokes for many moons and his voice would not echo from the forest. As long as the coyote was gone Abaáchi mothers would cry. It was the season of the Máał Chishtsáhih. Do not walk the paths of the forest when the Bad Sticks come.