By Graham Masterton
An demonic strength referred to as the Manitou units out to avenge the deaths of hundreds of thousands of local american citizens who died by the hands of white males, and Harry Erskine and his local American significant other try and keep the rustic. Reprint.
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Additional info for Burial (Manitou, Book 3)
VI The next day, even with Marella back in school and the Exceleriter in perfect repair, Stevie's work did not go well. She typed the first paragraph of her book proposal for the Briar Patch Press at least seven times, screwing words into and out of the tangle of her sentences as if she were testing Christmas tree bulbs and finding nearly every one of them either forlornly lackluster or completely burnt-out. Nothing seemed to work. Her proposal had no intellectual festiveness. Whoever ultimately tried to read it would conclude by tossing the whole shebang into a wastebasket.
Another touch and an instance of muddy diction gave way to just the right word. Yet another and the sequence of her arguments rearranged itself in the most forceful and convincing pattern. Her basic idea was not at fault -- think of all the dumb ideas that had giggled or panted their way to bestsellerdom -- but rather her _presentation_ of that idea, and she was having trouble with its presentation precisely because this damn machine had no reliable capability for error correction. A word processor would supply that lack.
Stevie shuddered. Marella had succinctly articulated her own feelings about the prospect. Especially, she was afraid, about _this_ woebegone prospect (a word altogether unacceptable in its application to Seaton), who was almost a decade younger than she. "You're way off base, young man. " "I'm basketball, Mom. " "I probably do," Stevie acknowledged. " VIII After the children were in bed, snuggled beneath their electric blankets against the damp mid-February cold, Stevie returned to her study and lit the space heater.