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Power of the Shaman

May Holcomb finds a Karankawan Indian shaman's jawbone at an archeological dig in Galveston, Texas. Something makes her take the bone. During a violent thunderstorm, the Karankawa shaman appears in May's room and teaches her the ways of shaman. Strange things begin to happen as May struggles to figure a way to save the burial ground. May searches books at Rosenberg library and finds information about the Indians to help in her quest. The shaman keeps trying to lead her to discover a way. The problem encompasses her and affects her school work until the counselor helps her find the answer. With the help of the citizens of Galveston May uses her power to save the Indian site.

A Hard Shell Word Factory Release

Katy Jo Farmer

Since the discovery of the Karankawan Indian burial grounds at Jamaica Beach in Galveston, Texas, the Karankawas have been an important part of Katy's life. In her personal library she has almost every book published with information about the Karankawas as well as authentic pieces of pottery. Power of the Shaman is the story of one girl's struggle to save those burial grounds.

As a member of the teaching staff at the Neuhaus Education Center in Houston, Texas, Katy is directly involved with the training of teachers in all areas of reading and language arts education. Prior to coming to Neuhaus, Katy was an elementary school teacher and dyslexia specialist. With a masters degree in education, she has worked to improve the education of children in Texas and the United States through the training of teachers. She has been a member of the International Dyslexia Association and is a certified Academic Language therapist. She served on the board of the Lasker Home for Children for twelve years, the board of the South Texas Girl Scout Council for fifteen years and is presently serving on the board of Galveston Ballet, a pre-professional ballet company.


4 cups

"Ms. Farmer did an excellent job of keeping the pace of the story consistent from beginning to end. There were never any points where the story seemed to drag and that is especially important given the format. What I found most impressive was her ability to create a sense of the importance of saving the site without preaching. No teenager likes to be preached to. I would definitely recommend this story to anyone with even a passing interest in a compelling story with a supernatural twist."

Dawn Coulter -- coffeetimeromance.com

4 cups

"The background story of the Karankawa is interesting and the scenery descriptions make you feel like you are at a public dig site. The dialogue in Power of the Shaman is wonderful and appropriate to each character. The inclusion of a young girl's life and surroundings are excellently done. The characters fit the story well and May is someone with whom I hope many young readers can identify. This is a definite young adult keeper."

Anya Khan -- Coffee Time Romance

Chapter One


May Holcomb and her father rushed with the other would-be archeologists to see what new discovery had been made. The crowd pressed around a heavy-set woman squatting on the ground. Dirty toes hung over the edge of her thongs as her too-big stomach was squeezed to the sides of her knees. She carefully brushed sand away from a bowl.

Needing a breath of fresh air, May stepped back from the crowd. The back of her favorite red shirt stuck to her skin. Sweat, sand, and suntan oil mingled until her stomach roiled and she swallowed hard trying to ignore the smells.

"You all right, little May?" her father asked, looking concerned as he tipped the edge of his Astros baseball cap back.

"I'm fine, just too hot." She pinched her fingers over her nose. Her father nodded. Sweat trickled down the side of his face, too.

The overweight woman was so excited that she fell over to one side and had to be helped to her feet. "Somebody get that archeologist who knows something," she bellowed.

A small barefoot boy in tan shorts and no shirt ran to the area that was roped off from the public. He slipped under the ropes and sidestepped the partially unearthed skeletons of several Indians to reach the archeologists. They were busy cleaning another skeleton. May watched the boy point towards the direction of the crowd. Finally, one of the younger men stood up, brushed off his jeans, and returned with the boy.

It amazed May that the archeologists hadn't heard all the commotion. As the man approached, the crowd parted for him. The woman pointed to the round hole that she had made. The archeologist dropped to his knees and helped her move away the sand.

The crowd pushed in closer. May felt excitement around her. She knew everyone wished they could have found an ancient bowl inscribed with crude markings. One by one, the crowd walked back to their individual digging sites as the man unearthed a bowl.

A late afternoon wind cooled May's face as she ran back to her section. She hoped that something besides shells and sand would turn up. As the sun sank low in the sky, she knew her father would want to leave soon.

She glanced over at him. He had found another newcomer he could explain the procedure of finding a space to dig and pointing out that any pottery shards might be kept with approval, but significant finds had to be reported to the authorities. She'd heard him repeat the introduction every Sunday for the last three weeks. She knelt down and slipped her scoop into the warm sand, digging with increased energy.

One scoop, sort, one scoop, sort.

A flat stone with grooves surfaced.

"Daddy, I think I found something," May called in her father's direction and brushed her wayward hair out of her eyes. Now the crowd will be around me, she thought, her brown hair blowing in the late March wind. An arrowhead was almost as good as a bowl. Her friends, Betty and Merelin, would be so jealous tomorrow at middle school when she told them.

The talk of the town revolved around the Indian burial grounds and the fact that they could be allowed to dig in the public digging area.

When the developer uncovered a skeleton, everyone, including the sheriff, thought someone had been killed and buried. Mr. Taylor, her sixth grade social studies teacher, lectured about the problems of saving a site when the land was already scheduled to be developed. Her class would be impressed that she had found an archeological treasure like the ones they had been studying about from other parts of the United States.

Dragging a newcomer with him, May's father hurried to see what she had found.

"Now, you're going to see what this is all about," he told the man as they sidestepped their way around the other sites to May. Each digger had roped off an area that they claimed as theirs, so her father had to walk in a jig-jaggy pattern to get to her area.

May laughed as she watched him.

"What have you found?" he asked turning to smile at the newcomer. "Anything great?"

"No, it's nothing spectacular. Some kind of arrowhead, maybe." May's cheeks hurt because her smile was so big.

May's father took the flat stone and removed his hat, his blond hair sticking to his head, and examined the stone as if he was the head archeologist. "Doesn't look like an arrowhead to me. What do you think?" He showed the stone to the newcomer who just shook his head. "Well, May, I guess we'd better go over to the real experts and have this checked out," he said very matter-of-factly.