Available August 2010 from
in ebook and print
What’s left for the Lakota when everything around them is changing? Quiet Thunder and Black Bear fear for their tribe’s welfare when buffalo and other game become scarce. A military captain named Pratt promises to teach them white man’s ways so they can become successful. Quiet Thunder follows Black Bear to Carlisle, Pennsylvania, to the Indian Industrial School. The school’s rigid schedule allows little time together, and Black Bear grows more distant as his confusion over his identity grows. Can Quiet Thunder make him believe her love is as eternal as the stars?
Another riveting, well researched yarn from the pen of master story-teller Cate Masters. Quiet Thunder and sweet natured but determined Black Bear love each other. But can their love survive them being uprooted from their people, betrayed and lied to by the white man? Will they ever find their way back to their own people? You will have to read this story to find out. But it is a fabulous journey, and you will enjoy it every step of the way.
Margaret Tanner - 5 Stars
Ms. Masters has penned an insightful and entertaining novel that's bound to teach you a few things about history. The mark of a good historical writing is peppering in the historical facts, and… you'll walk away knowing much more than you did about the Lakota and their brethren than you did when you began the story. Kudos to Cate Masters for another winning novel. You won't be able to put Follow the Stars Home down until you turn the last page.
The Examiner.com (Philadelphia)
The love story between Black Bear and Quiet Thunder is tenderly told, and well-written. From their feelings for each other, their land, families & way of life, we are able to recreate a time & place that most modern readers would not be familiar with.
The Pen and the Muse
A movement in the trees caught his eye, the slightest shift in the shadows. He lowered the stick and sat still as a tree atop his buffalo skin. An animal would have revealed itself, so he suspected a person hid there. His heart tightened with hope. After waiting a moment, he called, “Hello?”
The moonlight alighted her doeskin dress no matter as she stepped from the shadows into the clearing.
He scrambled to his feet. “Quiet Thunder. You’re here.” His thick voice caught in his throat and his self-confidence abandoned him. Long he’d waited for this moment, but now felt unsure what to do.
Her words rushed out in a strangled breath. “Yes. I heard the cry.”
He held the twig with both hands and twisted it. “I played all afternoon trying to get it right.”
Her eyes widened as she recognized the siyotanka. He’d made the flute hoping to enchant her with its magic. His song must be working—she walked to him as if drawn by it.
“I thought it an elk’s cry.”
The high praise made his breath tangle in his ribs. Grandfather told tales of Lakota who cut cedarwood branches to craft a flute shaped like the long neck and head of a bird with an open beak. The instrument’s sound resembled the call of an elk, powerful medicine supposed to make a man irresistible to the woman he loved.
He lowered his head. “I hoped it would bring you here.” Shyness overcame him, and he could not meet her gaze, only stare at the siyotanka.
“You brought me here.”
Her words were bold with truth. Tonight, he wanted to speak only truth. To hear only truth.