I wondered, as authors do, what if I wrote a marriage-of-convenience story where love must lead!
I won’t spoil the surprise for you, except to say there is a guaranteed happily-ever-after in The Color of Love (the full-length book of the Prequel Love in Panama).
Thank you, Loreli for your review!
★★★★★
“I loved the beginning of this story and can’t wait to find out what comes next. Mary-Anne has so much personal strength. I loved how she uses it. Rafael is very hard to read. I can’t wait to find out if his confidence will waver.”
Have you read and enjoyed https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0GBN3ZSHJ. I would love to read you review!
If all goes as planned, The Color of Love will be released on the New Moon in Capricorn, January 18th, 2026. And that timing is not accidental.
I have always loved releasing books on a new moon.
Not because it’s trendy or mystical-for-the-sake-of-it, but because it mirrors how stories are actually born.
The new moon is the dark of the sky.
No spectacle. No brightness. No applause.
Just potential.
It is the moment before the breath is taken.
The pause before the heart decides to open again.
The fertile darkness where something true begins to grow.
And The Color of Love is very much a book born from that space.
I promised, in an earlier newsletter to give the love-inspired orgin-story of the toy sloth of makes a cameo role in this story. Read on!
What I’m working on now…
I’ve also started work on a follow up to The Color of Love — another Panamanian love story — The Color of Serenity
Here’s the cover reveal
What if the deepest romance isn’t about being swept away—
but about finally being able to rest?
The Color of Serenity is a soulful, slow-burn love story for readers who believe that real passion doesn’t shout—it listens.
When internationally respected art curator Serena Valle is invited to Panama to curate the permanent art and sculpture collection for an unprecedented luxury wellness resort in El Valle de Antón, she knows instantly this is not just another commission—it is a legacy project.
She has already lived a full life. Loved deeply. Lost bravely. Learned how to stand on her own without bitterness or armor. Her days are shaped by quiet rituals and hard-won peace. Love, if it ever comes again, must be gentle enough not to disturb the life she has carefully rebuilt.
What Serena does not anticipate is Mateo Álvarez—the quietly magnetic co-owner of the property and brother of Rafael Álvarez, whom readers may recognise from Love in Panama.
He is not a man who arrives with promises or performance. He brings presence. Patience. The rare ability to stay. His strength is calm rather than forceful, his devotion revealed in attention rather than declarations.
Their connection unfolds slowly—in conversations that linger, shared silences that feel intimate, and moments of recognition that don’t need explaining. There is no rush, no drama, no need to prove anything. Only the steady, surprising discovery that safety can be profoundly romantic.
This is a later-in-life romance about:
Perfect for readers of slow-burn romance, emotionally rich women’s fiction, and clean, wholesome love stories that prioritise depth, tenderness, and truth.
The Color of Serenity is a reminder that love doesn’t fade with age—it deepens. And sometimes, the greatest romance begins when everything finally grows still.
If you believe (or dream) that love can be calm, soulful, and enduring—this story is for you.
COMING SOON!
If Love in Panama touched you, moved you, or gave you a moment of escape, I would be so grateful if you’d share that experience.
✨ You can leave a review here:
Amazon
US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0GBN3ZSHJ
CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0GBN3ZSHJ
UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0GBN3ZSHJ
AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B0GBN3ZSHJ
Apple Books, Barnes & Noble, Kobo & more:
https://books2read.com/u/bzlqeE
Audiobook (Audible):
https://www.audible.com/pd/Love-in-Panama-Prequel-Audiobook/B0FTFR5XPR
The Sloth Who Taught Us How to Love Slowly
This is the origin story of Sol the Sloth—though, truth be told, it’s also a love story about patience, tenderness, and the quiet courage of romance.
We met real sloths for the first time on a visit near Gamboa Rain Forest Reserve, 30 minutes from Panama City. We didn’t quite know what to expect. Perhaps something awkward or aloof. Instead, what we found was gentleness incarnate.
They were nestled in their woven beds like living prayers—one the color of warm honey and cream, another a deep charcoal-brown, and a third brushed with both, as if dusk and dawn had agreed to coexist. They slept with the serenity of beings who have never rushed a single thing in their lives.
Then came the hibiscus.
A bright red bloom was offered, and without ceremony—without expression—the tiniest hand emerged. Calm. Certain. The flower was drawn in, folded like a paper cupcake, breathed in, slowly chewed. Another hibiscus followed. The same ritual. And then, just as quietly, the sloth drifted back to sleep.
No performance. No urgency. Just presence.
Later, we wandered into the gift shop—the kind filled with forgettable souvenirs and plastic clutter. And there, up on a shelf, was him.
A sloth, soft and soulful, gazing downward as if he already knew our secrets. As if he were saying, Take me. I belong with you.
I stopped short.
“I want him. I want him.”
Laurie laughed and frowned
“No, you’ve got enough creatures.”
“I love him,” I said again—unwavering, childlike, sure.
But Laurie was resolute.
And so we left Sol there. Or so I thought.
That night, Laurie slipped down to reception.
“Could you do me a favour?” he asked. “Could you get that sloth from the shop, put him in a paper bag, and deliver him to our room between six and seven? We definitely won’t be there.”
The women behind the desk exchanged looks, already smiling.
“It’s a surprise,” he added.
Their giggles spilled out like bells.
“Ohhh,” one said. “There is still hope. Romance is still alive.”
That evening, Sol arrived.
Soft. Silent. Waiting.
From that moment on, he became more than a sloth. He became a teacher.
Sol teaches us the art of slow living—how to take time with a flower, how to savour a moment, how love doesn’t need noise to be real. He reminds us that tenderness is not weakness, that presence is its own kind of devotion, and that sometimes the most romantic thing you can do is simply stay still and play.
That’s how Sol came to live with us.
And every day, he invites us—without a word—to breathe a little slower, love a little deeper, and remember that the heart, like the sloth, was never meant to hurry.
With love,
