Note moyenne :
4.72/5 (sur 18 notes)
Biographie et informations
Nationalité : États-Unis
Né(e) à : Anchorage, Alaska , le 27 mars 1952
Dana Stabenow est un auteur américain de romans de science fiction et de thrillers. La plupart de ses livres se déroulent en Alaska, dont elle est originaire. Elle grandit dans le Golfe d'Alaska sur un bateau de pêche sur lequel vit et travaille sa mère célibataire.
Dana Stabenow Elle reçoit un B.A. en Journalisme de l'Université d'Alaska en 1973 et, après avoir décidé de s'essayer à l'écriture, elle s'inscrit en Master of Fine Arts de l'University of Alaska Anchorage.
Son premier roman, Second Star, est publié par Ace Science Fiction en 1990 et est suivi par deux autres livres de science fiction.
Son premier thriller de la série KAte Sugak, A Cold Day for Murder, reçoit l'Edgar Award for Best Paperback Original en 1993. Les intrigues de cette série inclut des éléments de la culture Aléoute et, dans une mesure moindre, Eskimo.
The next day was a repeat of the previous six at slightly lower temperatures. Mutt roused from her state of heat-induced stupor and nipped Kate's behind as she bent over a patch of morels. Kate abandoned a bucket not half full and gave chase. For fifteen minutes they played tag, moving deeper into the blackened forest and becoming covered in black soot, until Kate tripped over a branch and went sprawling on her face. Spitting out ash, she raised her head to see Mutt staring down at her with an expression of gathering delight. Kate could just imagine what she looked like, and told the half-breed, "You should talk! You look like you've been hit with a bucket of creosote."
Mutt went looking for trouble and found it, stampeding a mangy-looking cow moose out of the undergrowth. to Kate's relief Mutt decided either that she wasn't that hungry or that the cow looked a bit stringy for her refined palate, and allowed the cow to escape into a clump of alders. A while later she came back with a satisfied expression on her face a bit of rabbit fur sticking to her muzzle. "Shame on you," Kate told her. "Terrorizing these poor little citified rabbits and moose."
He smiled when he saw Mutt and said something to her in Yupik. Mutt ducked her head, flattened her ears, gave her tail an ingratiating wag and even went so far as to give a small yip in salute. The old man smiled kindly at both of them in farewell. "Don't forget, uncle, tomorrow morning," Kate called. "In front of Army-Navy, about ten o'clock. All right?"
He raised a hand and shuffled off. To Mutt Kate said, "And when did you learn to speak Yupik? I thought you only spoke Aleut."
Mutt raised a superior eyebrow and didn't reply in either tongue.
[Mutt] disdained a reply and jumped down from the back of the Jag. She looked up at Kate inquisitively, obviously ready, willing and able to get on with the job. "You look entirely too smug," Kate told her.
One of Mutt's eyebrow's quirked up as if to say, you should talk.
"Go to hell," Kate told her.
A low, amused woof was her reply.
Mutt returned from an extended lope around the homestead, her daily constitutional, nosed the lever handle on the open door, and bounded inside. She had been alerted to the presence of her favorite trooper by his truck in the clearing outside and was impatient to demonstrate her affection upon his person. Instead, she paused just inside the door to cock a sapient ear at the ceiling. She listened for a moment, and then, displaying a tact it was a shame no one was there to see, quietly let herself out again.
Mutt, also the victim of physics, was already off balance when Jim flipped over her, and was sucked thereafter into the cannonball's turbulent wake. She avoided landing in the middle of it by a levitational feat heretofore only achieved by Nadia Comaneci, and managed to jump clean over the melee. She landed running, a gray streak close to light speed, and she didn't stop until she got to Kate, behind whom she promptly took refuge, uttering a distinctly un-Muttlike whine.
Companion to me in every place,
You stretch your hand: I see
Majesties of mountains
Crowned with living light.
Your arm flings wide: I see
Wild little islands wrapt in fog
Grey luminous; hidden folds
Of emerald and ermine earth.
I fly free clean through glowing
Cat's eye aquamarine
Filled with light air breath
Swaddled in this cocoon
This dense and lifeless mass
Yet weightless I
soaring with it shall be for you
Light bright shining.
~Mary Tall Mountain
Pride welled up in her. Kate didn't recognize it at first, but that's what it was, pride in her grandmother and in her grandmother's determination to make things right. She was a solid presence in a world that crumbled around the edges a little more everyday, like a rock on the beach, something to hold on to When The Woman Who Keeps The Tides tried to pull you out at sea, something to hold on to while you waited for Calm Water's Daughter to succeed the storm.
"The land is my culture. The land is my history. The land is my living. It feeds me, it clothes me, it teaches me."
"The moose, the berries, the caribou, the salmon, the beaver, the marten, the otter, the wolf, these are my mother and my father, these are my brothers and my sisters. They feed me, they clothe me, they house me. The Old Woman She Keeps The Tides for me. Raven he gives me the land and the light. Agudar he guides me."