WELCOME TO THE BLOG, PAMELA! :)
Pamela is an author of contemporary and historical romance
novels. Her first book, Jane
Austen and the Archangel (Angels Come to Earth, #1) was released in 2012. Midnight Becomes You, (Angels Come to
Earth, #2) will
release in 2014, along with three more books in the Heart of the Game series, all releasing in 2014.
Before becoming a romance author, Pamela Aares produced and wrote
award-winning films and radio shows including Your Water, Your Life featuring actress Susan Sarandon and the
NPR series New
Voices. After producing
The Powers of the Universe and The Earth’s Imagination, she knew without a doubt that romance lives at the heart of the
universe and powers the greatest stories of all.
Pamela holds a Master’s Degree from Harvard and lives in the wine
country of California with her husband and two curious cats. Her love of nature
led to adventures scuba diving the coral reefs of Fiji, exploring the cliffs of
Greece, sea kayaking the Rosario Straits and white water rafting the wild and
scenic rivers of the west—and romance!
Where to Find Pamela:
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Love Bats Last by Pamela Aares
Publisher: SeaStar Press (January 31, 2014)
Series: Heart of the Game, 1
Genre: Contemporary Romance
LOVE BATS LAST
Book One in Pamela Aares' the Heart of the Game series
Get ready for All-Star alpha males and the strong women they come to love!
A stormy night changes their lives forever...
The baseball diamond isn't the only field for all-star player Alex Tavonesi; he also runs his family's prestigious vineyard. What he can't seem to run is his love life. He's closing in on the perfect vintage and the perfect game, but so far the perfect woman has eluded him.
Veterinarian Jackie Brandon is eluding her aristocratic past and memories of a soccer star who jilted her just before their wedding. She devotes herself to a marine mammal rescue center on the northern California coast, where hundreds of seals and sea lions are washing up dead.
A chance meeting in a midnight storm brings Alex and Jackie together to rescue a stranded whale. Watching her work, he realizes she's the passionate, courageous woman he thought he'd never find--he just has to overcome her deep distrust of jocks. Jackie’s passion and courage lead her to discover what's killing the sea mammals. The culprits want to silence her, and Alex is the only one standing in their way. What will he sacrifice to save the woman he loves?
Where to Buy*:
More Info:
Love Bats Last by Pamela Aares
Excerpt
Chapter One
S
|
he
should’ve asked for help.
Jackie
gunned the motor and ran the inflatable Zodiac up onto the muddy riverbank. At
eight that morning, putting in downriver to collect soil and water samples had
been a good idea. At two in the afternoon, the work was grueling. She should’ve
listened to Gage and brought an intern. Somebody. Anybody.
She
tied the stern line of the Zodiac to an overhanging willow branch. A startled
kingfisher squawked at her and flew upriver. She looped the strap of her
backpack over her arm and slid over the side of the boat. Her feet sank deep
into the mud. Cold water seeped over the top of her boots, and she grabbed at
the willow branch and fought to keep her balance.
She
dragged her feet out of the mud and stomped up onto a crescent of beach,
muttering under her breath. She’d take climbing a solid wall of granite over
mincing about on slippery riverbeds any day.
Stepping
carefully, she inched along to where a narrow trail led up from the river.
Thick willows lined the riverbank and hid everything above them. Deer tracks in
the mud told her this was a place where animals came for an evening drink.
Shielding
her face with her hand, she squinted upriver. If she worked fast, she could
cover another mile, maybe two, before dark, gathering water samples along this
stretch of river. She’d still have time to get back to her truck, winch the
Zodiac onto its trailer and drive the samples back to the lab.
Nothing
she’d discovered in the past two weeks added up. Someone had dumped a massive
amount of fertilizer near the mouth of the river where it met the San Francisco
Bay. The fertilizer had caused the worst diatom bloom ever recorded in the
North Bay, and the bloom was killing harbor seals in the area. But fertilizer
was expensive. Dumping that much fertilizer made no sense.
It
was more than a puzzle to solve.
They’d
rescued twenty seals in just the past week and however the stuff was getting
into the water, she was determined to stop whoever was responsible. Seals and
whales, all the marine animals, had enough problems without adding dumped
chemicals into the mix.
She
shrugged her backpack off her shoulders and pulled out her GPS and map. The map
showed two vineyards just above where she’d landed, the first of several north
of where the Susul River met the San Francisco Bay. She pulled her notebook and
a sample jar from the backpack. Water lapped at her feet as she squatted to
scoop some of the muddy soil into the jar. She snapped on the lid and wrote the
coordinates on the front label.
She stuffed the sample jar and map into her knapsack and
tossed it over the side of the Zodiac. With a flick of her hand, she freed the
line from the willow branch and turned to push the boat from the tiny beach. It
didn’t budge.
Bracing
herself in the mud, she put her shoulder against the pontoon and shoved hard.
It didn’t move even a fraction of an inch.
Great.
She
was two miles from where she’d parked her truck downriver and didn’t relish the
idea of trying to find a vineyard hand to help her. There’d be questions.
Questions she wasn’t prepared to answer, not yet.
She
walked to the bow of the Zodiac. It jutted up, maybe just enough for her to
hang her weight from the front and pop up the midsection. She stepped into the
river and sucked in her breath as she sank neck deep into an eddy pool. Feeling
with her feet, she found a flat rock that gave her solid footing. She reached
up and wrapped the bowline around her hands and tugged her full weight against
it. Her hands slipped and she splashed back into the chilly water.
“It’s
a bit early in the season for a swim.”
Adrenaline
shot through her as she scrambled to her feet. A tall and ridiculously handsome
man stood blocking the trail. He looked like he’d been airlifted out of a men’s
fashion magazine. He squatted, bringing him to her eye level. She froze,
unprepared for the intensity of his gaze. He had deep blue eyes, the color of
the sea before a storm. Those eyes crinkled as a slow, easy smile curved his
lips.
“Just
testing the water,” she said with a bravado she didn’t feel.
Goose
bumps rose along her arms as she sloshed out of the water and stepped onto the
riverbank. She wished they were just from the cold. To give her hands something
to do, she brushed ineffectively at the mud on her jeans.
“Can
I give you a hand?”
He
held a half-eaten sandwich, one of those piled-high deli sandwiches that
Americans loved. Her stomach grumbled; she’d forgotten her own lunch. But this
was no time to be thinking about food.
He
didn’t look dangerous. But the expensive-looking slacks and perfectly tailored
shirt he wore were out of place. She was from England—she knew a
custom-tailored shirt from a Savile row tailor when she saw one. Why anyone
would be wearing a three-hundred-dollar shirt and Prada loafers in river
brambles was anybody’s guess.
“No,”
she said, backing up a step. “I was just leaving.”
His
assessing gaze sent a shiver down her spine, pushed it deep. She tugged at her
shirt. Wet and plastered against her skin, it was almost transparent. She
didn’t have to look down to know he could see her nipples puckered from the
chilled water. She wished she’d taken the time to put on a bra.
She
glanced up, and he quickly averted his eyes. Every cell in her body suddenly
said flee.
She
leaned over the pontoon and grabbed her backpack, rummaged to the bottom, found
her jacket and pulled it on. She felt his eyes on her once again as she tugged
up the zipper. At least she didn’t feel naked anymore.
She
put a hand on the Zodiac, wishing that her touch would magically free it.
“What
brings you up here? I don’t see many people boating in this stretch of
river—just the occasional kayaker doing some bird watching. It’s mighty
shallow.”
He
gave her the perfect answer.
“I
was looking for nesting clapper rails.”
“That
shouldn’t take long,” he said. “There’ve only been a few sightings in this area
since I’ve lived here. They’re endangered, you know.”
The
man knew something about birds. And he was local. Could be good. Could be bad.
“I
know.”
He
quirked his brow. “And you’d be more likely to find clapper rails in the
fields, wouldn’t you?”
He
thought she was a clueless bird watcher. She should’ve chosen a different bird,
but she really didn’t know the birds of the region all that well, except for
the marine birds.
The
man smiled again.
A
smile shouldn’t send a zip of unnerving energy straight into her, but it did.
She’d sunk herself in her work for so long, studiously avoiding exactly that
kind of smile. He had the ease of a man who knew the effect he had on women. An
ease she knew only too well, having once fallen prey to it at the hands of
another man who knew how to wield his charm and allure.
She
looked away from his face and down to his hands.
“Nice-looking
Zodiac,” he said. “But you couldn’t have come up from the bay. It’d take you
half a day with that small motor. You put in somewhere south of here?”
An
observant man. Usually she liked that type. She tried not to be dazzled by his
near perfect physique and a face that was more handsome than any man should be
allowed. It was distracting. And dangerous. That she also knew from experience.
“I
might ask what you’re doing here,” she said, deflecting. She eyed the Zodiac,
assessing another approach to freeing it from the mud.
“Eating,”
he said with the same dazzling smile.
A
wise guy. From his polished American accent and fine clothing, obviously a very
wealthy and well-educated wise guy. But he didn’t have the body of a
businessman.
He
grinned and waved the sandwich at her.
“There’s
a great deli about two hundred feet from here. Can I buy you a sandwich? You
look like you could use one.”
She
dragged her hair away from her face. She’d love a sandwich. But there was a
mile of river to sample between here and the vineyard properties to the north.
And she didn’t want to answer questions. He looked like the type to ask plenty
of them.
“Thanks,
but I have to get back.”
“Back
where?”
Right.
Not the cleverest of responses on her part.
“Back
to, um...”
Jeez.
Tracking down water samples had made her feel like she was in some sort of
cheesy spy novel or something. This guy was just a guy having lunch near his
local deli. Right. Dressed in expensive
clothes and eating a sandwich by a really crummy spot in the river. She
might be good at chasing down the mysteries of marine mammals, their lives,
their health and the way the bigger picture affected them, but she was never
much good at figuring out people.
“Back
to work,” she said flatly.
“Where
do you work? Can’t be around here.”
It
was a simple question, a question she’d answered hundreds, maybe thousands of
times. She hated to lie, usually didn’t have any reason to, but it was hard to
ignore the small voice telling her to do just that. Maybe the sun had addled
her brain. And she hadn’t been
sleeping well. She’d read that lack of sleep could make you paranoid, make you
read things into situations that weren’t there. She really should get more
sleep.
“I
work at the California Marine Mammal Center,” she said as she pulled her foot
from the muck and edged closer to the Zodiac.
“The
seal hospital near the Golden Gate Bridge?”
The
Center was known for their quick response in rescuing injured marine mammals,
doctoring them up and returning them to the ocean, but the work went far beyond
that. Yet right now she didn’t feel like explaining.
She
nodded.
“I’ve
been meaning to get over there. For about ten years,” he said with a laugh.
“Evidently
not a priority,” she said, trying not to like the sound of his laugh. “Or if it
is, maybe you’re direction challenged?” She hadn’t meant to engage him, but his
smooth manner was like oil on a hillside, and she just kept sliding along.
He
sprang up from his crouch with a catlike, almost effortless, motion and took a
couple steps down the path toward her. She stepped back and nearly lost her
balance as her foot sank into the mud.
She
fisted her hands against her hips, and he stopped walking.
“I
heard you’re having a rash of seal deaths,” he said, suddenly serious. “Any
clues as to what’s causing the diatom bloom?”
Her
breath hitched in her chest. People in the Bay Area knew about the seal strandings;
reports been all over the news. But most didn’t know about the diatom bloom or
if they did, they didn’t get the connection. Maybe he was a scientist. But he
didn’t look like a scientist. Scientists never had muscles like his.
“It’s
too early to tell.” At least it wasn’t a complete lie. It was too early to tell. “I really have to be going.”
She
turned and pushed her shoulder against the pontoon. Color crept into her face.
She was stuck, in more ways than one.
“Here,”
he said as he closed the distance between them. He bent down and put the
sandwich on a rock. “Hop in. I’ll shove you off.”
She
tilted her head and shaded her eyes. Maybe he could do it; he looked incredibly
strong. His shoulders reached beyond those of most normal men. Only movie thugs
and athletes had shoulders like that.
God,
she was being ridiculous. Letting him shove her off was the best solution.
Maybe the only one.
“Okay,”
she said.
Their
gazes locked, and she felt both trapped and held.
“I
don’t bite,” he said.
There
it was again, that easy, wide smile. She was really losing it if she could let
herself be charmed by a stranger standing on a riverbank.
Before
she could move away, he closed his hands around her waist and lifted her over
the side of the boat.
“Straddle
the pontoon on the opposite side,” he said as he released her. “Lean into it.”
The
confidence of his tone told her he was used to giving orders.
He
walked to the bow of the boat and stepped into the water. She noticed that he didn’t fall into the eddy pool. Maybe
he knew this stretch of river very, very well.
She
hung her weight against the pontoon and watched his arm muscles work as he
gripped the bow line and levered his shoulder against the boat. With perfect
control he tipped the bow down. The bottom of the boat sucked up off the
riverbed with a sigh and a slurp, and with a firm, steady motion, he pushed the
boat into the river.
“You
might need this.” He grinned and tossed the bow line over the side. She caught
it with one hand.
“Nice
catch,” he said as he stepped out of the water.
Mud
covered his expensive shoes and stained up his pant legs. He apparently didn’t
notice or didn’t care.
Her
hands shook as she started the engine. Only then did she remember she hadn’t
thanked him. She waved and shouted thanks over the buzz of the motor.
“My
name's Alex,” he said as he waved and stared after her. “Maybe I'll see you
around these parts again.”
Not
if she could help it. Maybe he wouldn’t notice that she was headed north,
upriver to the vineyards. Besides, why would he care?
“There
aren’t any marine mammals up that way,” he shouted with a puzzled smile. “No
clapper rails either.”
She
shrugged and looked resolutely upriver.
So
much for not noticing.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Sounds like a great contemporary romance!
Do you like sports romance? Do you have a favorite sport that you will read about?
Enjoy!
Until Next Time,
*TBQ's Book Palace is a member of both the Amazon and Barnes and Nobles affiliates program. By using the links provided to buy products from either website, I receive a very small percentage of the order. To read my full disclosure on the matter, please see this post!
4 comments :
Thank you for hosting me-- and thanks t all the readers who have written to say that they are loving Love Bats Last-- it means so much to hear from each one of you!
Oh oh! A sporty romance?? I'm so in! I hadn't seen this series yet. Thank ya!
You are very welcome -- I look forward to reading this series!
Enjoy,
TBQ
:D Always happy to provide your TBR pile with more ammo! lol
Enjoy,
TBQ
Post a Comment