DEAD SLEEPING SHAMAN
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Excerpt from "Dead Sleeping Shaman"
"As I got close to the woman I tiptoed, as if the sandy, rutted trail allowed for noise. She hadn't moved. The long, pale hands were arranged exactly as they had been arranged. The folds of the skirt were as perfect as before. I thought of spiders and ants; all things that fly and crawl and leap and could land on your skin if you slept on the ground. The thought of insects creeping into my nose and ears, tickling my arm hairs, and maybe nesting in some shaded part of my body, made my stomach lurch. And wasn't the ground damp? And autumn chilled?
I metaphorically gave a tip of my hat to the sleeping lady -- braver woman than I -- and put a finger to my lips, shushing those crows again. I was going to pass on by. I was going to take my wild glee at success -- of a sort -- home. But a thought stopped me. There had been no car out on the two-track leading in. This place was miles from the main road, miles from any houses, back in the forest on land the DNR managed. How had she gotten here? Maybe she'd been dumped, too drunk to know where she was."
"As I got close to the woman I tiptoed, as if the sandy, rutted trail allowed for noise. She hadn't moved. The long, pale hands were arranged exactly as they had been arranged. The folds of the skirt were as perfect as before. I thought of spiders and ants; all things that fly and crawl and leap and could land on your skin if you slept on the ground. The thought of insects creeping into my nose and ears, tickling my arm hairs, and maybe nesting in some shaded part of my body, made my stomach lurch. And wasn't the ground damp? And autumn chilled?
I metaphorically gave a tip of my hat to the sleeping lady -- braver woman than I -- and put a finger to my lips, shushing those crows again. I was going to pass on by. I was going to take my wild glee at success -- of a sort -- home. But a thought stopped me. There had been no car out on the two-track leading in. This place was miles from the main road, miles from any houses, back in the forest on land the DNR managed. How had she gotten here? Maybe she'd been dumped, too drunk to know where she was."
- "Buzzelli hits her stride in this third entry." - Library Journal
- "Well-crafted...provides some sharp prose and spirited characterizations." - Publisher's Weekly
- "The relationship between the two friends, as well as the dynamics between Buzzelli's other characters, is where the author really shines. The local color and small-town dynamics are alone worth the price of admission." - Mystery Scene
- "The appeal of this third in the series comes both from Emily -- a likable character forging a new life after her divorce -- and the evocatively described, nicely detailed small-town setting." - Booklist