The Tribe's Bride (The Necklace Chronicles Book One)

By R.E. Butler

When a university job interview goes south, Carrie Wade isn’t certain that she’ll ever find work in her field of ancient Native American culture. Knowing the only job waiting for her is waitressing at a coffee-house, Carrie indulges in a post-disappointment shopping trip. An old necklace in an antique store window catches her eye and she immediately feels as if she cannot walk away without owning it. The very last thing she needs to do is squander her savings by investing in a necklace that may have, at one time, belonged to one of the tribes she studied...but she can’t help herself.
When she tries on the precious necklace at home, she passes out and wakes up in the tent of the necklace’s original owners, three Native American tribesmen from the late 1600s. Will she be able to get back home to the future or will she find out that the one place she was always meant to be was back in time as the tribe’s bride?
This novella contains m/f/m/m interaction, three handsome brothers that will do anything for each other and their woman, and a magical necklace that brings them all together.

• Language: English
• Publisher: R.E. Butler
• Release date: Jul 24, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476155357

R.E. Butler

A Midwesterner by birth, R.E. spent much of her childhood rewriting her favorite books to include herself as the main character. Later, she graduated on to writing her own books after "retiring" from her day job as a secretary to become a stay-at-home mom.When not playing with her kids, wrestling her dogs out the door, or cooking dinner for her family, you'll find her typing furiously and growling obscenities to the characters on the screen.Her best-selling series Wiccan-Were-Bear, The Necklace Chronicles, Hyena Heat, Wilde Creek, Were-Zoo, Arctic Shifters, Norlanian Brides, Saber Chronicles, and Ashland Pride are available now.

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The Tribe’s Bride

The Necklace Chronicles Book One

By: R.E. Butler

Copyright R.E. Butler 2012

Revision 2019

The Tribe’s Bride (The Necklace Chronicles Book One)

Copyright © 2012 by R.E. Butler

Revision 2019

License Notes

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

Cover by CT Cover Creations

This ebook is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locations is coincidental.

Disclaimer: The material in this book is for mature audiences only and contains graphic sexual content and is intended for those older than the age of 18 only.

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Editing by Alexis Arendt

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Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

The Necklace Chronicles Stories

Contact the Author

Other Books by R.E. Butler

Coming Next in the Necklace Chronicles Series

Chapter 1

So just what does one do with a degree in ancient Native American languages and cultures? The man across the desk from Carrie folded his hands slowly, resting his arms on the blotter. The look on his face was one she had become accustomed to since graduating.

Ignoring the are you an idiot? look he gave her, she swallowed her sarcastic comment that he was the Human Resources recruiter and therefore should have an idea of where a person with such a degree could work within the college. Instead, she said, I’m hoping to take on a Teaching Assistant post while I pursue my master’s in education.

He gave her a puzzled look. So you can teach languages that no one has used for many, many hundreds of years?

Yes, sir. She mentally checked out of the interview. Bradford University had no department even close to her degree program and they certainly weren’t going to open one for little old her. She’d known her major choice was a gamble, but she just loved ancient languages and learning about primitive cultures. She was grasping at straws, really. But she would take a TA job in any department to get her master’s.

He perused her resume again and then set it down. Unfortunately, Miss Wade, we don’t have any TA positions available that match your qualifications. I’ll keep your resume on file for ninety days and let you know if something comes open.

She stood up and hid her frown behind a false smile as they shook hands. He walked her out of his office and down the long, winding corridor toward the double doors that led outside. He was at least a foot taller than her five-foot-three frame, and his legs were long enough that she had to jog to keep up with him. He swung the door open for her and gave her a tight smile, and she jumped as the door clanged shut behind her.

What a fucking rotten day.

Her shrew of a great-aunt had passed away three years ago when Carrie was nineteen, and the only nice thing she ever did for Carrie was name her the beneficiary of her life insurance, which was enough to pay for an undergraduate degree in the subject she truly loved – ancient Native American civilizations. The odd thing was that there were some ancient civilizations that were acceptable to study, like Egypt. Tell people you wanted to go dig around in pyramids and they’d write you a check and tell you to watch out for curses. But say that you wanted to learn how to speak Indian languages that had died out sometime in the 1600s and they looked at you like you had sprouted horns.

The main tribe that she had studied had disappeared in the late 1600s. They settled in the Badger Claw Mountains of Montana, and were a fierce group known as the Bloqui, or the Blood-Ones. A small tribe, they were nearly wiped out by disease and those that remained left the area and eventually joined other groups of disbanded tribes to form a loose conglomerate. Eventually the melding of the various smaller tribes meant that very little remained of the originals and that always made her a little sad.

She wasn’t really sure where her love for Native American culture came from, but learning about it had become nearly an obsession. Unfortunately, it wasn’t exactly a lucrative profession, and her great-aunt’s money was starting to run out.

It would have been nice to work at Bradford, but there were other colleges to apply to, so she wouldn’t give up. She had hoped to be placed in the linguistics department at her own college, but there were no openings. Gathering her coat around herself to stave off the spring chill, she walked away from the college and decided to stop for a bite to eat on her way home to the small house she had shared with her aunt in Elizabethtown. She saw an exit sign on the highway that said there was food ahead, and she pulled off the highway and into the small town of Jamboree.

She sat down at the counter in Edna’s Diner, tossing her long, dark brown hair over her shoulder. After ordering the special, she plucked her cell from her purse and checked to see if she had any messages. Her neighbor and closest friend, Bea, had texted her, asking about the interview. Bea was a recently divorced thirty-something travel writer with three cats. Carrie texted back that it was a bust and Bea promised that she would take her out when she got back from the Caribbean. Carrie told her the kitties were fine and that she was jealous of her job.

Carrie had been raised by her elderly Great-aunt Ellen after her parents died in a car accident when she was twelve. Ellen was the only surviving member of her family. Neither of Carrie’s parents had siblings, and their own parents had died before she was born. With no siblings of her own, and then suddenly no family, Bea had come into her life at just the right time. She purchased the home next door just weeks after Ellen died and took Carrie under her wing, acting like the older sister she had never been blessed with.

When her food arrived, she tucked into a thick slice of pot roast, freshly mashed potatoes, and hot buttered rolls. Edna herself brought a piece of apple walnut pie and refilled her coffee.

You new to town, darling? she asked, peering over her half frame glasses. Her thick black hair was streaked with gray and curled around her ears, giving her a decidedly pixie look.

Passing through.

You should check out the antique shops on Dulcea. Turn left at the stop sign. Some of them have some real interesting things. Jewelry and whatnot.

She smiled politely. Thank you, Edna, I’ll check it out.

Paying the bill, she got in her car and stopped at the stop sign. Going right would take her back toward the highway, but the mention of jewelry made her heart go pitty-pat. She did love jewelry. And she did love antiques. Turning left, she parked at a meter on Dulcea and fed a few quarters into it.

Her sensible heels clicked on the sidewalk as she window-shopped. She passed a window display for a consignment shop that boasted clothing from several decades, as far back as the twenties. She stopped and faced the window and looked at a flapper dress hanging from a plastic, headless mannequin. The dress was fun and flirty, but made more for stick-figured women and not those like her, with lush