Friday, July 8, 2011

The Year of the Mountain Lion by Maria E. Schneider

It's Friday again! I hope everyone will be having a wonderful, summer weekend.

I'm ultra-pleased today, to be introducing everyone to a short story, "The Year of the Mountain Lion," by Maria E. Schneider. I'm a big fan of Maria's work, so when she told me about this story being published by Darwin's Evolutions, I bought it and read it immediately. I have to tell you, this is an EXCELLENT story with action, suspense, and a great ending.

Cursed as a drought-bringer, Jolan lives a harsh life of nomadic exile in the desolate desert that surrounds her former home. Now, though, she is being hunted by those who have already cast her out for purposes she cannot fathom. Unfortunately for her pursuers, Jolan is not helpless and she is determined to survive.

A gripping short story by skilled author Maria Schneider that shares a powerful woman's refusal to surrender in the face of either nature or the society that abandoned her.

What readers are saying:
"Maria E. Schneider, Urban Fantasy and Cozy Mystery writer has taken a trip back to her roots with the short story, “Year of the Mountain Lion.” This story is one part of Darwin’s Evolutions, a short story magazine designed specifically for Kindle readers...The Year of the Mountain Lion” is chock full of self-realization, ethical quandaries, powerful friendships, lost chances and misguided use of power.” --

And now for an excerpt from "Year of the Mountain Lion" by Maria E. Schneider:

Jolan ran across the sand and stopped near the top of a gully, crouching. She glanced backwards, scanning the dry, gritty landscape. There wasn’t much time. They were very close now, and if she didn’t lose them soon, their arrows would have her heart.
She jumped and rolled, not away into the sandy center of the gully, but up against the base. From there, she used her agave swish to brush the sand where she had landed. The rolling marks barely showed, and she left them because there wasn’t time. The hunters might easily mistake the slight markings as those made by an animal anyway.
Her clan didn’t know the desert like she did. When they had abandoned her in the cliffs, blaming the lack of rain on her curse, she had learned to live on the scant water that trickled occasionally in the last, drying stream beds. She had learned to move deeper into the desert in the winter, living on even less water, finding it with the same curse that had gotten her cast out from her clan.

Keeping close to the crumbling sidewalls, Jolan headed for the red rock overhang. The harder ledges would give her some cover and the ability to run full out.

This was the third time her tribe had hunted her. Two seasons ago, her comfortable existence had been shattered when she looked down at a curious pattern in the sand. Jagged sticks formed a lightning bolt. Animal hide, representing thunder, was held down with pebbles. It took all her discipline to keep from scattering the pieces into the wind.

“Wat—” Out of habit, she had started to mutter the name of her people, but her voice was so disused, she uttered only a croaking whisper.

Could it be an enemy of the Watahal who chased her and not a tribe member?
No. Only someone from her clan would know that the lightning bolt with clouds was her old name: Taima, Thunder.

Each time she found the sign, she trembled. Each time she took the old, worn piece of hide, torn from…she could not tell. Whoever followed left only rotted hide, likely desperate, likely out of water.

Leaving a few false trails and wandering in random circles, she had led the enemy away from water until they gave up the chase. Finding water was her forte and traveling her life. If she didn’t stay too long in any one place, her curse didn’t steal the rains for too long.

But the enemy got smarter. She had found the signs again this fall, including a few parched oak twigs from the valley, twigs that signified her new name, Jolan: Dead-Oaks. Part of the wood had been burned, a way of cursing her.

Over the seasons, the clan learned where she roamed: the plains, the mountains or the low hills. And they were close this time.

Her breath came hard as she ran under the protective rock outcrop and then out into the open, sun flashing into her eyes before steady steps took her under the next overhang.
She didn’t slow, even as she tossed her swish into a bundle of fallen rocks. It was nothing there, only a dried branch.

Better they chased her now, rather than in the northern mountains where she stayed after the spring melt. The heat of the desert would discourage them from hunting her for very long.


Also available on NOOK

Maria E. Schneider is the author of the urban fantasy, Under Witch Moon as well as the Sedona O'Hala mystery series, not to mention other short story collections. You can learn more about Maria and her books at

Other Books by Maria:

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