Message From The Author
Seeing the last book of my mystic Indian seriesMYSTIC WARRIORSnow on the shelves is one of the most rewarding experiences I have had in my 20 years of writing. This project began as an offer that was turned down by a former publisher. That turned out well for me, since Forge Books picked up the idea and not only gave me a better deal, but also published the three books in hardcover. I was thrilled with all three beautiful covers, the first of which won Best Cover from Affaire de Coeur. The books have sold well, and now the first two, Mystic Dreamers and Mystic Visions, are available in paperback. MYSTIC WARRIORS will be published in paperback in approximately 10 months.
These stories forced me to delve even more deeply into Native American culture than I ever have before, and I discovered there a beautiful spirituality so many of us never experience in todays times. I worked hard at bringing that alive in my books, and I hope readers come away with a deep respect for Native American beliefs and an appreciation of how much we
can learn from their outlook on life. I would urge any of you who head West to visit the Medicine Wheel on Medicine Mountain in northern Wyoming. This place really exists, and the location is crucial to my stories. You cannot visit Medicine Mountain without feeling the undenaible presence of a spiritual power that lingers there. Its like walking back in time; and it is at this place where my final story ends, shortly after the Custer Battle of 1876.
I hope you will read all three books in the series, and when you do, make sure you read them someplace quiet, and let the beauty of the Native American spirit fill your hearts through these stories that I know will stay with you for a very long time.
Please visit Rosannes website at www.parrett.net/~bittner.
Excerpt from MYSTIC WARRIORS
Rising Eagle danced until he was hardly aware of the snow, the wind, the cold. There was only this placewhere he always found strength, and where hed even found a miracle. Here his first-born son was conceived, and here his adopted sons, Spirit Walkers, once-deformed fingers and toes had been healed. No place on earth was more sacred, or more important to him, than Medicine MountainOn this mountain he felt he could live forever; and here, when his days were ended, he would come to meet the Feathered One, who would carry him to that wonderful place in the heavens where all his loved ones had gone before.
Surely Wakan-Tanka would hear him at this place on top of the world. Surely the Great Spirit would see the sacrifice he was making, so cold now that numbness took away the pain. He continued singing.
Do you see me here?
I pray to you in the cold wind.
I ask for strength, Wakan-Tanka.
Do you see me here?
It was then he heard the voice in the wind. Do not fear.
He stopped dancing and spread out his arms, listening, listening
Hope is eternal. Listen to the voices of your ancestors. They sing in joy, knowing one day there will be no more death.
Tears sprang to Rising Eagles eyes, from the joy of realizing Wakan-Tanka still heard his prayers, knowing he had not lost his spiritual closeness with the Great Beyond Strength, he said, feeling weak but refusing to fall. Give me strength.
You are stronger than you know, and hope is never lost. It lies in the heart. Remember, even if the white man seems to win, he will lose. The rivers are of your blood, the birds are your voices, the earth your flesh. The Earth will always belong to the Lakota.
The wind suddenly died, and the sun broke through the thick, dark snow clouds. It stopped snowing, and the sun shone on Rising Eagle with an unusal warmth.
Rising Eagle smiled. Yes, Wakan-Tanka had heard his prayers! He was even blessing his freezing body with a wonderful warmth. Hope he had hope, and he felt a new strength flow through his veins.
He lowered his arms and turned to gaze at Buffalo Dreamer, who still lay curled into her bearskin robe. He walked near her, kneeling to add wood to the dwindling fire, wood they had carried here in bundles on horseback. Flames flickered higher, and the fresh wood crackled and popped as it heated.
Rising Eagle moved under the robe beside Buffalo Dreamer. At last he could warm himself better as the sun again disappeared behind a billowing cloud.
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