More on this book
Community
Heidi *Bookwyrm Babe, Voyeur of Covers, Caresser of Spines, Unashamed Smut Slut, the Always Sleepy Wyrm of the Stacks, and Drinker of Tea and Wine*
Kindle Notes & Highlights
It’s not like anybody but him reads this mental newspaper.
The four boogeymen—the four butchers of Duck Lake.”
“So you really want a book?” he asks, still sure this is some complicated joke. “I read, yeah,”
“Gabe, Ricky, Cassidy—Cass.”
it does suck to be the only Indian without an elk.
the hood yawning open like a long scream.
“Sorry,” Lewis said again, quieter, so Cass couldn’t hear. But it was just hunting, he told himself.
It’s not like Lewis has the nerve for shooting big animals anymore. Not after having gone to war against the elk like that.
maybe that repetitive scope-eye he got that day in the snow was worse than he thought, it kicked something loose in his brain, something that’s just now blooming.
Dealing with cops is like being around a skittish horse: No sudden movements, nothing shiny or loud. Zero jokes.
He wishes he could go back, read them all over again for the first time. He wishes he had the concentration for reading at all, right now.
Why did this elk, if it is an elk, why did she wait so long to come for him?
he’s not going to cry. He’s a stoic Indian, after all.
“You cured yet?” Gabe asks back. “Of what?” Nathan says. “Being Indian?”
“You all think you’re … Sacajawea,”
Killing a calf is the worst of the worst, you know. Beside it, breaking a promise is nothing, really.
her eyes. They’re different. They’re yellowy now, with
“You’re not really Crow, are you?” Denorah says. “Elk,” Shaney says back with a grin.
Denorah’s a town girl, knows every inch of the basketball court, but the ungreat outdoors? Not so much.
