Wakinyan's Valley

By Debbie Mumford

A "right-around-the-corner" tale set in a post-apocalyptic world. Mark Whitehorse and his friends search for a safe haven where they can raise their families. When they stumble across a hidden valley, they believe their search is over. But the valley is already inhabited. Will the band of survivors find refuge...or something else entirely?

~*~*~

Debbie Mumford specializes in the unknown —fantasy, paranormal romance, and science fiction. Author of the popular “Sorcha’s Children” series, Debbie loves mythology and is especially fond of Celtic and Native American lore. She writes about dragons, thunderbirds and time-traveling lovers for adults as herself and for tweens and young adults as Deb Logan.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WDM Publishing
• Release date: Feb 7, 2011
• ISBN: 9781458061539

Debbie Mumford

Debbie Mumford specializes in speculative fiction—fantasy, paranormal romance, and science fiction. Author of the popular Sorcha’s Children series, Debbie loves the unknown, whether it’s the lure of space or earthbound mythology. Her work has been published in multiple volumes of Fiction River, as well as in Heart’s Kiss Magazine, Spinetingler Magazine, and other popular markets. She writes about dragon-shifters, time-traveling lovers, and ghostly detectives for adults as Debbie Mumford and contemporary fantasy for tweens and young adults as Deb Logan.

Book preview

Wakinyan’s Valley

Wakinyan’s Valley

Debbie Mumford

WDM Publishing

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

About Debbie Mumford

Also by Debbie Mumford

Acknowledgments

1

Footsore and grimy our little bank slogged along a pot-holed, mountain road, hauling the remains of our former lives in bicycle trailers designed for Yuppie toddlers. A week’s worth of dust clung to our clothes, and we reeked of sweat and dirt and desperation. Hot showers. Laundromats. Hope for the future. Hard to imagine I’d once taken all of them for granted.

A spark of hope remained, one we nurtured diligently. We would find a place of our own — a safe haven where we could raise our kids in peace.

The late spring sun beat down on my head, while a sparkling mountain stream danced parallel to the road. I paused for a short breather. Leaning the bicycle-trailer combo against a tree, I yanked my ball cap off, wiped sweat from my brow, and listened as the stream caroled a mocking song: why should I be hot when it was cool? Why did I strain to push a load uphill when it tumbled joyfully along its rocky path?

Jake and Phil trudged past, each pushing a bike-and-trailer of their own.

You okay? Jake asked without breaking stride.

I didn’t blame him for not stopping. The slope would make it tough to regain my momentum. Should’ve waited for a level spot.

Yeah, I said. Just needed a breather.

He nodded and kept pushing.

See you at the top, Phil said with a grunt.

I replaced my ball cap, grabbed the bike’s handlebars, and shoved forward.

Kevin! Mark! Everyone! You’ve got to see what I found! Maggie darted past Jake and Phil and skidded to a halt beside me. Pebbles skittered away from her worn hiking boots. I wanted some watercress, so I followed this stream....

She paused to catch her breath, and the rest of our group crowded around to hear what had her so excited.

"The stream disappears into a