Isn’t this new website beautiful? It’s a very personal reflection of both Sharon Sala and Dinah McCall and I hope you enjoy it in the days to come. Sharon’s stories are usually romantic suspense, or straight fiction. Dinah’s stories are the ones with Native American characters and a paranormal storyline. Dinah’s stories honor my Native American ancestors. Both of my daddy’s grandmothers were part Native American. One was a three-quarter blood Cherokee and the other one part Cree. The Native blood is very thin in my veins, but my heart and soul completely belong to the culture and to The People.
Most of you who know me and have been reading me for years might have heard this before, but for those of you who might wonder why I would do something so random and choose to have wolves on the page, let me share my story.
When I first started to school, my family lived way out in the country in a little rent house down on the river. It was a half mile from the house to the road where I walked to catch the bus. The old dirt road was bounded on one side by a pasture and on the other side by a heavily wooded hillside that ran parallel to the road. Laddie, a big yellow dog not unlike the Old Yeller dog from the movie, walked with me every day to catch the bus, and he was there waiting for me when I came home every evening.
Then one morning when the days were beginning to get colder and the air was still heavy with morning mist and frosty leaves, a big wolf appeared on the hill. It never threatened, it never made a sound. But as we moved toward the bus stop, it began to follow me, staying high up in the tree line while we walked down on the road, pacing our every step. Laddie knew it was there because the hair on the back of his neck would raise and he would growl all low in his throat. But the wolf never threatened, and for some reason I wasn’t afraid. It was just there. This went on every day all the way to winter, and then one day it was gone. I never told anyone and eventually forgot about it until one day I was telling the story in the midst of some Native American friends of mine. An old man who’d been listening suddenly grabbed my arm and got all excited. He told me that meant that the wolf was my totem, and that by appearing to me as it had, meant I had been marked for great purpose, and that I should pay attention to the opportunities that would come before me in my life.
I remember this every time I begin a new story, and when I get letters from readers who tell me that the stories in my books have helped them through some of their darkest times. This is how I know I’m doing what I was chosen to do. This is how I know I’m on the right path. Wolves mate for life. They are loyal to the pack and their family. It is a good way to live.
So now when you see the wolves, remember a little girl beginning her journey into adulthood by walking a dirt path to catch a bus, and then look now at how far that path took her – all the way here to you!