Mountain Echoes. C.E. Murphy
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You can never go home again
Joanne Walker has survived an encounter with the Master at great personal cost, but now her father is missing—stolen from the timeline. She must finally return to North Carolina to find him—and to meet Aidan, the son she left behind long ago.
That would be enough for any shaman to face, but Joanne’s beloved Appalachians are being torn apart by an evil reaching forward from the distant past. Anything that gets in its way becomes tainted—or worse.
And Aidan has gotten in the way.
Only by calling on every aspect of her shamanic powers can Joanne pull the past apart and weave a better future. It will take everything she has—and more.
Unless she can turn back time...
Praise for
and The Walker Papers series
Urban Shaman
“A swift pace, a good mystery, a likeable protagonist,
magic, danger—Urban Shaman has them in spades.”
—Jim Butcher, bestselling author of The Dresden Files series
Thunderbird Falls
“Fans of Jim Butcher’s Dresden Files novels and the works
of urban fantasists Charles de Lint and Tanya Huff should
enjoy this fantasy/mystery’s cosmic elements. A good choice.”
—Library Journal
Coyote Dreams
“Tightly written and paced, [Coyote Dreams] has a
compelling, interesting protagonist, whose struggles and successes will captivate new and old readers alike.”
—RT Book Reviews
Walking Dead
“Murphy’s fourth Walker Papers offering is another gripping,
well-written tale of what must be the world’s most reluctant—
and stubborn—shaman.”
—RT Book Reviews
Demon Hunts
“Murphy carefully crafts her scenes
and I felt every gust of wind through the crispy frosted trees….
I am heartily looking forward to further volumes.”
—The Discriminating Fangirl
Spirit Dances
“An original and addictive urban fantasy!”
—Romancing the Darkside
Raven Calls
“The twists and turns will have readers shaking their heads
while devouring the next page.”
—USA TODAY
Mountain Echoes
C.E. Murphy
for my father-in-law, Gary Lee
(why, yes, Joanne’s Gary is named after him, in fact)
Contents
Chapter One
Friday, March 24, 4:15 p.m.
I came home to North Carolina just shy of a decade after promising I’d never go back.
Home was a funny word. I’d lived in Qualla Boundary during high school. That was longer than I’d lived anywhere else up until then, but in the intervening decade I’d lived exclusively in Seattle. But North Carolina still twigged as home, maybe because it was where my father had been born.
It was where he’d gone missing from, too, and that was why I was back.
Driving up from Atlanta was a slow immersion into memories.