Awards Announced on Readers’ Favorite.

I have two announcements today.

One…PASSION’S VISION placed in Readers’ Favorite.

September 1^st. was the big day for all the Finalists in The Readers’ Favorites to find out if their books were winners.

I am happy to announce my book, Passion’s Vision, placed as Finalist in Historical Romance.  

This experience has been a wonderful ride of ups and downs. I have formed new friendships that I know will last a lifetime. This is the link to check out all the winners of this year’s awards.

https://readersfavorite.com/2014-award-contest-winners.htm#cat84   

Two…My new Box Set PASSION SERIES is live on Amazon. 

PASSION SERIES, follows one family through a turbulent time in history when men and women struggled to survive through bloody wars and deadly epidemics. It was a time when passions ran deep and honor and family meant everything. 

Book 1...PASSION’S VISION: New Moon. Strong, beautiful, a visionary, and warrior. She blames herself for the death of her husband. If only she had been there. Now her visions warn...once again, her warrior skills will come to bear... 

Two warriors’ from different worlds meet and clash. Soon it is revealed their survival depends on their ability to overcome their differences and defeat those who seek to destroy them both. 

Book 2…RAVEN’S PASSION: Raven Who Flies To Meet The Clouds is a young warrior of interracial descent who struggles to accept his heritage as well as to be accepted by the People he loves and the adoptive father he feels he will never measure up to. 

Book 3: PASSION’S PRICE: Golden Dawn is blessed with her mother’s courage, warrior abilities and gift of visions; and her white father’s pride and determination. She alone understands Raven's pain. She alone knows their paths are intertwined. She alone knows that someday she will willing pay the price to save his life. And that day has come. 

Raven's Passion

Raven’s Passion is now live on Amazon. I am so excited about the 5 star review it received from Readers’ Favorite.

A story of the coming of age of a young man and the girl who loved him in an age where ones very survival depended on their honor, their strength, and the village.  

I did not know when I started writing Native American Romance that I would enjoy it as much as I do. But I struck out on the path, and what a journey it became. When I researched Cherokee culture for my Passion’s Series I was drawn in by its richness from the games, to the spirituality, and the love of nature and all creation. A good example of how even their games held a high place in their society and preparation for life is the game of stickball

I am passing on the information I gleaned from a book written in that time period by one of my husband’s ancestors. The game of stickball, also called “The Little War” was a favorite sport. This simple game was not simple. It brought villages together, was used to teach team cooperation, bravery, agility, and brute strength. The winners and the most accomplished players won respect and great honor. There was no such thing as “cheating”. From what I read in this old book, the game made football seem tame. If someone were injured in the game, or even killed, there would be no retaliation.

The game could last for days but when it was over there would be a celebration. A blanket would be laid on the ground. Anyone wanting to participate in the dance describing the memorable plays would deposit an offering to be given to villagers that were in need. The rewards earned by the players were comprised of honor and respect for their prowess, and experience that would aid them on the hunt and strengthen them for war. Their generous gifts to the needy endeared them to the villagers as well as bringing them honor for being providers and protectors of the people.

It was truly a time in history when ones very survival depended on their honor, their strength, and the strength of the village. 

BookDaily

My books are now listed on BookDaily. Passion's Vision is being featured.

Bookdaily is a great site with an abundance of books listed. If you have not visited the site before you should take a couple of minutes to check it out.
Excerpt from Passion's Vision: It is pretty long...

New Moon dug her nails into the soil as she peered out from her hiding place among the river cane. The white man invaded her special place. All the others knew this was her place. No one ever bothered her here. Not until now, not until this...white man. She watched and listened as he washed and sang a white man's song. He sang loudly in his own language. His voice changed in tone in a most unusual, but not unpleasant way. She glanced to the east. The sky brightened as she watched. Her resentment grew and made sitting still more than she could manage. She shifted her weight, a motion too minute to attract attention. The sun rose to brighten the eastern sky and she gritted her teeth. He raised his arms and spoke the first words of the Cherokee prayer. His deep voice embraced the words of her ancestors and presented them with pride to the sun and the Great Spirit, causing her breath to catch in her throat as she listened. He spoke the greeting beautifully. Finishing the prayer he turned back toward the bank. New Moon tensed as his gaze moved across the cane where she hid. She assured herself he could not see her, but still her skin tingled with uncertainty.

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This white man was like no other she had seen. Even in nakedness he wore his strength and pride as naturally as a most beloved warrior. This was uncommon for white men who thought the layers of bear-hide and the assortment of weapons hanging from their bodies could enhance their strength. The aura of power that surrounded him intrigued her. She held her breath as water ran from his hair in little streams that captured her attention and carried her vision along. It cascaded over the bulging strength of his shoulders and down his chest to his narrow waist. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard as the memory of that chest and rippled waist pressed hard against her back flooded her being with unwanted desire. Like a person suffocating, she gulped in the air she withheld from her lungs. New Moon stiffened and her eyes flew open. The scent of a mountain cat filled her nostrils. Instantly her warrior instincts came to life and she berated herself for behaving like a silly woman. The cat was near. She glanced at the leaves of the cane, checking the wind's direction. Her entire being tensed with foreboding as she turned her attention back to the No Thing. He took another step in her direction and she saw the smug grin spread across his face. This white man who thought to pass himself off as a warrior was aware of her, but not the cat! Could he not sense the danger? Of course not, he was too busy strutting and waving his spear. He stepped onto the bank and moved with feline grace toward the cane where she crouched. From the corner of her eye she saw the cat as it leapt from the boulder to land lightly on the ground near her

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hiding place. It was her own totem, her sister from the animal world. To the white man's credit, he too stood his ground, his eyes boring into those of the cat. The cat dropped her ragged ears low to her head and growled a warning. A muscle worked in the white man's cheek and his fingers curled more tightly about his knife. Great Spirit! Her heart cried out. He was going to make war with the mountain cat! A flood of emotions sprang up within her, but it was anger that finally ruled her actions as she pushed aside the cane and stepped out into the open. James' gaze slipped from the yellow eyes of the cat to New Moon's, and felt the tension arch between them. Neither was willing to break eye contact, even when New Moon spoke to the cat. "Go home to your young ones, little sister. I will not allow you to have this foolish white man." The cat rumbled deep within its chest as she glanced nervously over her shoulder at New Moon. "Go!" New Moon commanded. The cat, as if deciding the effort to stay would take too much energy, turned away and disappeared between the large boulders. "Are you out of your mind?" The anger in his expression was great, but her anger was just as great. New Moon squared her shoulders in challenge as she looked with disgust at James. The cat now forgotten, he let his gaze travel over her. She'd been wet when she pulled on her dress. She was acutely aware of how the soft doe-hide clung to the moisture on her skin. Two long steps and he reached out for her. She swung at him, but was no match for his strength. He caught her easily. Taking hold of her wrist, James pulled her struggling arms to her back and clasped one large

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hand around both of her smaller wrists and pulled her up tightly. His grip was as unbreakable as ropes of new rawhide, yet as gentle as a caress. Awareness of his naked body against her spread heat through her wet dress to sear her skin. She clenched her teeth together in an attempt to deny the uncontrollable sensations coursing through her with the vigor of a raging mountain river. This white man who strutted with the pride of a warrior watched her with eyes that pierced her to her soul and grinned. "You look like a she-lion," he whispered. She struggled harder. James chuckled softly and ran the fingers of his free hand along her jaw line. "Your skin is very soft, my little Wa-sa. From this day forward, you will always be my little Wa-sa...my little mountain cat." New Moon growled deep in her throat, sounding not far removed from the very cat he spoke of. "You stupid white man" she spat at him. "That lioness almost had you for her cubs. Do you think I am any less dangerous? Many strong warriors have tried to humble me, warriors who would not have become cornered by a kitten." For all her strong talk her body quaked inside. The lonely hollow place left by her husband's death ached to be filled. She needed a man, but not any man. New Moon wanted a man whose spirit was stronger than hers. One she could not bend to her will. One she could love and respect. One with skin as dark as her own! James seemed not to hear as he smiled down at her. He held her dainty chin with his strong fingers and bent his face close to hers, their lips almost touching. "Have you ever been kissed, my little Wa-sa?' Her eyes bore hatefully into his, "There have been white men in our village before you came, Blue Eyes.

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This touching of the lips is nothing more than stalling for time. The weak pale-skin must have time to coax his pitiful manhood to rise so he can try to dominate and humble the women of warriors." With maddening slowness he took his hand from her chin and laid it on the slim column of her throat, feeling the rapid pulse beating there. His hand slid downward over her doeskin-covered breast and lingered to tease the tempting bud that hardened of  its own will beneath his thumb. His knowing smile gnawed at her insides. He slid his hand to her waist and then around and down her back. When his hand reached the soft, round firmness of her hips he kneaded his fingers gently around the warm mound before he jerked her up hard against himself. "Do you still think I need to stall for time?" Struggle! Her mind screamed to her unresponsive muscles, but her body was not hers to command. A scent uniquely his filed her nostrils. She could taste his breath on her tongue. She tested his hold on her wrist by pulling against his grip. His hold on her was secure and yet as gentle as one would cradle a baby. He studied her face as he held her. Could he see the sparks of passion in her eyes? Could he feel the weakening of her body, or her heart pounding against his chest? His deep, husky voice slid over her like sun-warmed honey. "You talk strong for a woman. Like a woman who thinks she doesn't need a man." She felt the vibrations from his words. She closed her eyes as rumbling, tingling sensations traveled from her chest to her groin. When she again opened her eyes he stared down at her. Gone from his sky blue eyes was the teasing twinkle, replaced by the dark, smoldering shades of desire.

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"Someday you will want me, my little lioness. Then your struggles will be to pull me closer." He rocked his hips forward, and her stomach tightened painfully, causing a gasp to slip from between her lips. "That's when I will show you the pleasure in needing a man." Lowering his head he covered her mouth with his own. She struggled but his hand on her wrist held with little effort. Her body trembled uncontrollably beneath his touch, and she realized her struggles had stopped as she waited in anticipation. His mouth against hers was hard, hot, and wet. She didn't know what to expect next, but the sensations he caused in her now made her head spin. As his wet lips slid seductively over hers he nibbled gently. His tongue came out to trace the outline of her lips. Finally he placed a thumb on her chin and applied pressure. When she opened her mouth to protest, his tongue swept inside to stroke the interior of her mouth with blatant ownership. Passion ignited like a prairie fire within New Moon as his tongue rubbed against hers. She opened her mouth wider to welcome the intimate intrusion. Her spirit soared and her head spun as her inner voice, her spirit voice, told her once again...He is the one. The white man released her arms and they rose upward over his wet chest to his neck and onward until her fingers wound their way into his hair. His warm hands went lower to slip beneath the curve of her bottom. Heat from his naked body scorched her through her still damp dress, and her skin beneath tingled with desire. New Moon could feel his strength as well as his heat. She felt it in the way he held her, in the way his muscles bunched beneath her fingertips. Clawing at his shoulders she returned his kiss in kind. A moan of pure pleasure erupted deep within his

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chest. To New Moon the sound was like tossing fresh kindling on an already burning fire. Then his words screamed into her consciousness, "I will show you the pleasure in needing a man." Her slipping resolve strengthened. No man, especially a white man, would ever dominate her! She would bring him to his knees first. She could feel the power she had over him even as her own flesh burned from the touch of his fingers on her exposed skin. Then he brought her further under his spell as he slipped her hem up about her waist, leaving more of her sensitive flesh exposed to his searching hands. The full heat of his hands, no longer kept at bay by her damp dress, burned into her flesh. He pressed her hips, pulling her up tightly against himself. She clung to him as one falling would cling to a vine. There was no longer a barrier between his body and hers. If she did not pull away soon he would slide her legs about his waist and she would be lost. She must pull back first, she screamed silently in an attempt to gain control of her warring passions. He broke the kiss and pulled back to look into her eyes. She gazed into their blue depths and for a moment felt a comfort she had never experienced before. The spell was broken with his next words, "Now is not the time to make you mine, little purring kitten." The reality of what almost happened, what could have happened slammed into her. For a moment she was lost in a swirling mix of emotion, regret, surprise, and finally anger. Her body was still too attuned to his as he held her hips pressed tightly against him. She fought without success to quail the quivering in her own body that called out to his in a way that made her doubt her own control.

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In near panic she raked her nails downward from his shoulder and across his bare chest. Finding herself suddenly free from the support of his body she stumbled. Her eyes never left his as she steadied herself. How could he just stand there with that grin on his face? His eyes actually twinkled with laughter as they devoured her hair, her eyes, and her lips while what she wanted—what her body cried out for—was for him to take her. An exaggerated huff escaped her lips while she raised her chin and smoothed her dress down to cover her exposed hips. With as much Cherokee pride as she could muster she turned and made her way to the narrow pass. *** James tilted his head to one side as he watched the retreating hips swish angrily from side to side. Then, with a quick glare over her shoulder, she was gone. The woman must be crazy to step out and face a cat with no weapon! Yet he couldn't help but be impressed by her calm bravery. He was surprised by his own actions. He'd shook with relief that the cat had not turned on her, yet was burned with fury because she took such a risk. But she is alive, he told himself. Alive...and brave and beautiful beyond any other woman. God, but she is magnificent. He looked down at the four long, red welts stretching across his left breast. Several drops of blood oozed slowly to the surface. "So much for not making the same mistake twice," he mumbled as he touched a finger to one small, ruby-red drop of blood. He rubbed the crimson drop between thumb and finger. "So your claws are as sharp as your tongue, my little Wa-sa." Laughing loudly he called out, "Did you know that you have stolen my heart away, Little Wa-sa?"

Why Do I Write?

I just recently received word that Passion's Vision is a finalist in Reader's Favorite. When I read the notice I remembered a blog post,"Why do I write?" that I wrote a short time back. I was actually thinking of this book when I wrote that post.

That character that just would not follow the plan was, of course, New Moon. New Moon appears again in Raven's Passion and briefly in Passion's Price, but I am seriously considering writing another page in the life of New Moon and Panther...Just for the fun of it.

Why do I write?

Is it because I have nothing else or anything better to do? Nope. My life is full, filled with all the wonderful and colorful challenges that make life worth living. It is merely because I have to?

Maybe I am compelled to write because I need a way to express my creativity? I don’t know about that.

I do know that very little is more fun to me than developing characters of such strong and opposing personalities it would seem impossible for them to mesh. Then I test their resilience, determination, resistance to accept change and any other test I can think of by dropping them into a scenario that will force them to grow or lose what it is they want most in their life.

I do plot out my stories. I have a nice outline to go by to keep me on track; I research the history, if it is set in a real life historical time, and then let my characters take over. Some of them will follow the path I have carefully laid out for them. Some of my characters will fall by the wayside to be replaced by bigger, bolder, or sweeter, less complicated souls. What really excites me is when one of my characters refuses to fit in or conform, but rather strikes out on their own to blaze a path that leaves me breathless with anticipation.

Of course, everything I am talking about is about imagination. We all have it. We all used it when we were children. It is what helped us to develop “Passion” for our future. It is where we got a glimpse of what we wanted to be when we grew up, our “Vision” for our future. We played and made games of the imaginary lives we would someday live and explored all the “Promises” that life would hold for us.

Then we reached an age where we realized there would be a “Price” to pay for the choices we make. Some of us analyze those choices and decide which ones are worth the price. Some of us ramble along and just experience what life offers us. Some of us throw it all to the wind, pay whatever the price, and never look back. We all have a path to walk, decisions to make, sacrifices to weigh. It is all a part of life. And what a life it can be!

Write it down! Let your imagination go wild! Become a child again and explore what makes life worth living to you. White stories about adventures you have had, adventures you wish you never had, but best of all write about adventures that you wish you had. Then maybe you too will experience what gives a writer the need to write.

Remember, It takes Passion to bring a Vision to Life.

Only 3 days left!

The giveaway for Passion's Vision will end 6/22/14.

You can read the Prologue at  http://www.maryadair.com/Passion_s_Vision.html

Download Raven's Passion Free 0n June 2, 2014

http://www.amazon.com/Ravens-Passion-Passions-Mary-Adair-ebook/dp/B00KMYA6UI/

Raven's Passion will be offered FREE for one day only...6-2-14
Don't forget to download your copy.

Passion's Vision 5 STAR Review by Readers' Choice

As you know Passion's Vision is being offered on a free giveaway at Goodreads and I have been waiting, hands wringing, for this review to be posted. When I uploaded my new cover for Passion's Vision all but 2 of my reviews for Passion's Vision were sucked into the black hole of cyberspace. This left me very concerned that my giveaway would suffer due to no reviews. So getting a good review was very important to me.

Well I am doing a happy Dance!!! Please, do not try to envision that. Instead just take a look at the review.

I hope many of my friends and fans will sign up for the review. It is being offered to usher in the publishing of Raven's Passion, which will be featured in a giveaway next month as well as a countdown sale as soon as it is up and running on Kindle.

Well enough talking, here is the review:

Reviewed By Bil Howard for Readers’ Favorite

Love has a strange way of drawing together individuals that seem to not only be extremely unlikely to meet, but are diametrically opposed to ever create a bond. Passion’s Vision by Mary Adair explores this truth as the female warrior, New Moon, struggles with a destiny that has been revealed to her in a vision of man whose “hair is the color of the river’s clay and whose eyes are the color of a summer sky.” Having lost her husband, she has sworn to belong to no other man, regardless of the will of the Great Spirit. James Fitzgerald is the embodiment of New Moon’s vision and she knows it the moment she lays eyes on him; however, she will not easily give up her determination to belong to no other man. As James carries out the task that had been given to him by King George, bringing Cristoph DuPrey to justice, the deeper conflict of the heart of the two warriors rages in full force. Passion, duty, language and culture struggle with each other as destiny tumbles them forward like a cascading river.

In Passion’s Vision, Mary Adair has not only captured the essence of the struggle that was taking place as white men and natives struggled to advance their own visions for the new frontier, but it also digs into the deeper struggles of the heart. The stubbornness of the mind and determination may hold fast to what is believed to be the best course, but chemistry, desire and passion often have a way of continuing to assail the heart until it gives in. Mary does an excellent job of telling both of these stories and of drawing the reader into a deeply emotional response to the characters involved. Passionate, realistic and intense, Passion’s Vision will draw you in with an irresistible desire to bring the two protagonists together as you become enmeshed in the struggle along with them.

Introduction to Passion's Price

Passion's Price

Passion’s Price, Passion Series, book two. Golden Dawn is the daughter of James-Fitz-Gerald and New Moon. Dawn has inherited her father’s fair hair and blue eyes. At first sight one might mistake her for a softer sort, but like her father, she is bold and determined. From her mother she has inherited the gift of sight. Unlike her mother, she does not question for a moment what her sight reveals.  She will risk anything, including her own life, to save the man she loves. 

Raven Cloud, called Little Buffalo as a boy, is the love of Dawn’s life. James Fitz-Gerald raised Little Buffalo as his own son. James was a wealthy merchant with his main office and shipping line located in London. When Raven’s own anger and uneasy spirit forced him to leave the tribe, James appointed him his legal heir and sent him to run Fitz-Gerald Shipping. 

For years, Dawn has missed Little Buffalo as half her soul. She has a vision that he is mortal danger. Her path is clear and only she can save his life. She knows her own may be forfeited, but she is willing to take that chance. Like her mother, she will pay any price to save the man she loves--even if it means wearing white women's clothes.  

Passion’s Price is the story of a Cherokee Princess that bursts upon English High Society with one goal in mind. The story is filled with adventure and twists, daring escapades, hilarious antics, dangers, and triumphs.  

I hope you pick up a copy today and enjoy the story as much as I enjoyed writing Passion's Price.  

Passion's Vision...New Moon

When I researched Cherokee women of the 1700's for Passion's Vision I was amazed by the strength, both in body and spirit, of the Cherokee woman. She was honored for being a woman. Cherokee women went to war and in fact had a say in as to the tribe going to war. They were strong in body as they built the homes, raised their children and  performed the many tasks required of a Cherokee woman of that day. They were strong in spirit as they prepared their children for the life ahead of them and took part in all aspects of the tribe.

I love reading and writing about strong women. By strong I mean the kind of women that have a sense of their own worth. Women that know how to love and to inspire. Women who will not give up. Women who make a difference in their own lives as well as those they come in contact with. This is the kind of woman I wanted New Moon to be.  It didn't take New Moon long to start developing into just such a woman. 

I hope you enjoy New Moon's story.