Passion's Vision takes place in the mid 1700's in the Carolina Cherokee villages. James Fitz-Gerald is an agent in the court of King George II. James is on an undercover mission from the King when he arrives in the Cherokee village, Chota Town. He knows this mission will be his most difficult with the lives of both white families and Native Americans in the balance. With this responsibility weighing heavy on him, the furthest thought from his mind is an entanglement with another woman. That is, until his life is saved by a proud and beautiful Cherokee woman.
New Moon, sister to Chief Dancing Cloud is a warrior in her own right. She hardly notices the stupid white man whose life she saves in battle, but when James arrives in her village she is reminded of the troubling visions sent to her by the Great Spirit. She determines within her heart, even after a vision from the Great Spirit telling her otherwise, she will never belong to a white man and most assuredly not to this one.
Passion's Vision is the story of the love and respect that grows between an agent in the court of King George II and a Cherokee Princess. Their lives are destined to be filled with adventure and triumph, sometimes with loss and pain, but always with passion.
About the Author
Author Mary Adair lives in Southeast Oklahoma. She writes Native American Historical Fiction, Fantasy, Young Adult and Inspirational Fiction. Mary Adair has three books published, Passion’s Vision, Passion’s Price and Captive Spirits. All three books are available at Amazon in print as well as Kindle. Both Passion’s Vision and Passion’s Price have hit Amazon bestseller in their category. Both books are Native American Historical Romance. Mary did extensive research on several Native American tribes. One of her many sources is a book written in the 1700s by one of her husband’s ancestors. Her first book is PASSION’S VISION, a story filled with romance, excitement and danger. This story features James Fitzgerald, an agent in the court of King George II and New Moon, sister to Chief Dancing Cloud. Passion’s Vision won the Betty Hendrck’s award. Mary’s other works are PASSION’S PRICE, the story continued with James and New Moon’S daughter, Golden Dawn. PASSION’S PRICE is a poignant love story with a twist of humor. It is a next generation story filled with adventure and determination as well as self-realization and of course Romance. Mary’s newest release, CAPTIVE SPIRITS is a beginning to a Young Adult Fantasy series that also can be enjoyed by all adults. Mary believes that along with weaving a story into a written work comes a responsibility. She feels authors should express themselves. That is what being an artist and author is all about. But with that, she keeps in mind that words are sharper than any two-edged sword. She chooses not to write stories that generate hate, or foster desperation or pain for her readers. She believes there is already enough pain and desperation in the world. Mary thrives to write stories filled with hope, triumph and adventure. That is not to say her character’s lives are a walk through the park. You can, however, expect a happy ending. Mary hopes all of you eternal optimist, hopeless romantics, and lovers of adventure, from whom all good things are born, will pick up a copy of one of her books and enjoy the ride through the story she creates. Author’s quote: An author’s Passion is realized when that first novel becomes published and that first fan writes a reader’s review to share how much she enjoyed the book. How an author fulfills the Vision is all in the journey that follows.
Read an Excerpt
From Chapter One
"Damn it, Thomas, I thought you said we were in Cherokee Territory and would have safe passage!" James Fitz-Gerald yelled above the bloodcurdling whoops of their attackers.
"We are! And we do!" Thomas Brown yelled in answer. He aimed his flintlock and fired at an advancing warrior. "In fact, we're so close to Chota Town they can probably hear the racket." He tossed the gun aside and snatched a loaded one from Little Buffalo. "Keep'em comin', boy! Yer maw would be proud of you."
James fired and missed. With a curse, he tossed the gun to Buffalo. He had been in many dangerous situations but he had to admit, none quite as exhilarating as being pinned down by a dozen or two screaming natives. He leaned toward Thomas and yelled to be heard above the earsplitting noise, "Then why are they attacking us here, so close to a village?"
At that moment a particularly fierce looking native jumped up from cover and dashed toward them. James snatched up a tomahawk and sent it flying. The primitive instrument buried itself into the chest of the charging Indian who jerked back from the impact.
With what seemed inhuman strength, the Indian stumbled the last few steps before finally crumpling forward. James leaned back as the warrior fell. The dead body draped motionless across the log behind which James, Thomas, and young Buffalo crouched.
Thomas's gravely, ever complaining voice pricked at James. "I thought maybe you was goin' ta invite that one over fer tea," he snorted and reached up to push the body away. Thomas's hand froze halfway to its mark as Buffalo yelped in Indian fashion and scrambled forward. Before either man knew what the boy was about, Buffalo expertly, and with seemingly great enthusiasm, scalped the fallen warrior.
"Damn!" Thomas swore as he scratched at his ragged, gray whiskers. His gaze swung to James and his lips pulled back in a toothless grin.
James was glad he was far enough away not to smell Thomas's breath. What few teeth the man had left were black with neglect and decay.
"I guess I lied when I said this one was tame," he intoned with obvious pleasure.
Before James had a chance to ponder Thomas's propensity to increase his discomfort at every opportunity, a yell rent the air. Another warrior sprang up and charged.
Thomas quickly turned and fired. "I'd be careful if I was you, Fitz-Gerald." He glanced at Buffalo and then back to James. "Some savages take a special likin' ta red hair."
Buffalo looked proudly at Thomas as he stuffed the scalp into his waistband. With the blood still on his hands he reached for the spent musket.
James ignored Thomas and the boy as he aimed his fire- arm. This time he didn't miss.
The past ten years of James's life in the king's service had been a life spent alone -- a life filled with secret missions. The face of death was always neatly hidden behind the mask of civilization and clothed in miss-matched loyalties, a dark deadly puzzle to be figured out.
Now he was here, where death was a painted face with a gaping mouth and mobile tongue frantically pumping to fill the air with nerve shattering screams.
He'd never felt so close to death ... or so alive. Out here the two went hand in hand.
James smiled at Buffalo. "You know the scalp really belongs to me." Some might think their humor misplaced at a time like this but, having danced with death on numerous occasions, James understood the need for levity.
"You owe me. Remember?" the boy yelled back and tossed a fresh gun in his direction.
James snatched the loaded musket from the air just as he heard Thomas gasp. He saw Thomas crumple forward grasping at his shoulder. There was no time to examine his wound. James swung his musket around and fired. Another Indian fell.
"If we get out of this one alive, boy, you can have all the scalps!" he promised Buffalo with a yell.
James spun around at the sound of Buffalo's voice. He had known it would be only a matter of time before some of the warriors circled around to their rear.
He froze for the span of a heartbeat. Not fifty feet away an Indian woman stood, her face partially hidden from his view by the bow she held stretched and ready to let fly an arrow.
Quickly pulling up his musket, he pointed the barrel in her direction. James had never killed a woman. The muscle worked in his cheek as he aimed then suddenly searing pain shot up his arm.
As he fell to one side he looked at Thomas in disbelief. The old mad man had actually kicked him on the elbow sending his shot well wide of its mark.
Thomas gripped his bleeding shoulder as he choked out, "Cherokee!"
At that moment an arrow whistled past James's head and the Indian who stopped it stumbled over their barricade to land across one of his legs. A quick look back revealed the woman was gone.
Cherokee burst upon the scene. James would not have believed the din of earsplitting whoops could increase, but increase it did.
"Hot damn! I knew they would make it!" Thomas cheered through gritted teeth, then moaned just as enthusiastically.
James noted the pride that glowed in his partner's face. It appeared the old thorn in the flesh had a particular liking for this tribe.
"That's right, lad." Thomas chuckled as if he'd heard James's thought and then shifted himself to better wait out the battle. "These here are Dancin' Cloud's warriors."
Their attackers, as of one mind, slipped back into the trees and disappeared. The forest again turned into a troubled silence as the whoops died down and the Cherokee warriors followed the retreating renegades.
Buffalo wasted no time climbing over their arrow-laden barricade to scramble, knife in hand, to lift whatever scalps were still available.
Pushing himself to his feet James looked out at the scene before him. Bodies lay scattered about as the boy scurried, dipped and danced among the dead he further mutilated.
The stench of spent gunpowder and the coppery sweet odor of blood hung heavy in the early morning air to mix with the scent of forest mint and kicked-up soil. The scent of death mixed with the smell of life.
Remembering the woman James looked back once more. "That was a woman that popped up over there," he said, sounding stupid to himself.
"Sure was." Thomas whistled loudly, mimicking James's call to bring his mount. "Now where do you suppose that crazy horse of yours is? I imagine the mules are long gone by now and my Daisy along with 'um."
"They're not gone." Buffalo, who was back from his scalping excursion, intoned with awe.
Both men turned around to get a look at what could have so enraptured their young companion.
Walking gracefully toward them was a warrior whose size very closely matched James's own impressive physique. In one hand he gripped the lead ropes of both mules.
Amazingly the packs were still tied in place. Eagle, James's black stallion, followed docilely behind. Unfortunately, Daisy, Thomas's old mare, was not with them
James watched as the proud warrior squatted down in front of Thomas and examined his shoulder.
"You will live, old friend." the Indian announced as he stood and, with surprising gentleness, pulled Thomas to his feet.
New Moon stood before the open doorway of her summer lodge and peered into the dark interior. Behind her she could hear the excitement in the village; it crawled over her skin like a thousand ants. She breathed deeply of the scent of wood-smoke and roasting meat, but not even the comforting aromas that spoke of the safety of her home could quiet the uneasiness in her spirit.
His hair was the deep rich color of the great river's clay. Every nerve, every sense, told her he was the one. She could feel him now, drawing closer.
As if in response to her thoughts, the village quieted. Even the dogs that had moments before been yelping suddenly stilled. She did not have to turn around to know they were watching him. He would at this moment be coming through the gate of the tall wooden wall surrounding their community.
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
Historical and cultural details add texture and interest, but the core of the story is the romance between characters from two different worlds. Highly recommended.
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.
Set in South Carolina in the 1730s, Passion's Vision is both an enticing love story and a well-researched historical novel of the Cherokee Indians. James Fitz-Gerald is on assignment from King George. To carry out his assignment, he lives with the Indians and learns to cherish their way of life. New Moon is a widow definitely not interested in a white man, and yet her vision tells her he is 'the one.' The day-to-day detail of 18th century Cherokee life is engrossing, and the love story is well done and satisfying. In tone, this book is reminiscent of Last of the Mohicans (the movie version), and of books by Cassie Edwards. I definitely recommend this delightful time-period tale.