David Attenborough has long been a quiet, powerful force in my life—one of those rare souls whose devotion to the natural world feels almost sacred. As he approaches his 100th birthday on May 8, I find myself reflecting not only on the extraordinary breadth of his work, but on the way he has lived: with reverence, restraint, and an unwavering commitment to protecting what is most vulnerable.
This scene from my romance The Color of Love was born from that same spirit.
It was also shaped by something far more confronting—a deeply disturbing article I read about the deaths of wild sloths in captivity in Florida. Thirty-one gentle, ancient creatures—gone, not through nature, but through human interference. Through greed. Through a failure to understand that some things are not ours to possess.
That contrast stayed with me.
The beauty of protection…
and the brutality of exploitation.
And from that tension, Rafael Álvarez emerged.
A man who does not simply admire nature—but defends it.
A man who understands that true power lies not in control, but in care.
Because I believe this, deeply:
Men who protect the vulnerable—who stand as guardians of what cannot defend itself—are the true heroes of our time.
Don’t you?
Rafael Álvarez stared at the article on his laptop screen, the morning light from Panama’s highlands spilling across the long cedar table in his kitchen.
Thirty-one sloths dead in captivity.
He read the line again, willing it to become less grotesque.
Dead in a warehouse.
Dead because men with glossy brochures and shallow ambitions had decided wonder could be monetized.
Dead because someone wanted ticket sales.
Dead because greed was easier than reverence.
A hard pulse beat in his temple. Outside, dawn unfurled over the coffee plantation in ribbons of gold. Mist moved low across the valley. Beyond the terraces of ripening cherries, the rainforest rose in layered emerald folds. Somewhere in the cecropia trees near the river, one of the resident sloths he had spent years protecting was likely still sleeping, trusting the world to be kinder than it was.
He swore softly. Then with feeling. “Bloody hell.”
He pushed back his chair so sharply it scraped the stone floor and strode to the open doors overlooking the mountainside. The air smelled of wet earth, orchids, and the promise of rain.
Thirty-one lives lost. Creatures built for peace. For slowness. For leaves, branches, warmth, and silence.
And men had failed them.
“Why can’t people get off their lazy asses and come see them in their natural habitat,” he said, voice ringing through the house, “instead of importing them into these inhumane zoos? I’m furious!”
His housekeeper, Marta, paused in the doorway, startled. “Señor?”
“Sorry, Marta. Not you. Them.”
She glanced at the screen and her expression hardened. “Ah.”
“Call Diego. Elena. Tomas. Everyone. Fifteen minutes.”
She gave a single nod and disappeared. Rafael was already moving.
At forty-nine, Rafael Alvarez had become one of Panama’s most respected hoteliers by doing the opposite of what lesser men did. Where others bulldozed, he restored. Where others exploited, he preserved. Where others chased applause, he built things that lasted.
His flagship rainforest lodge in Gamboa had been praised in magazines for luxury, but the only praise that mattered to him came from the return of scarlet macaws, monkeys, and sloths to land once stripped bare.
He picked up his phone.
“Diego,” he said when the call connected. “Wake up.”
“Why are you up this early?”
“Because the world is full of idiots. I need plans for Sanctuary Verde in Gamboa expanded today.”
“The sloth sanctuary?”
“The sanctuary, veterinary clinic, canopy corridor system, rescue nursery, and education center. I need it fastracked. Today.”
“Are you serious?”
“I’m livid!” Rafael hung up and dialed again.
“Elena, assemble the legal team. Now.”
“Good morning to you, too.”
“I want anti-trafficking partnerships, rescue protocols, grant structures, and enough pressure on the wildlife trade to make smugglers regret being born. And I want the men responsible for the murder of those sloths brought to justice. Make them pay.”
He thrust his phone to his ear and made another call. “Tomas, find adjacent landowners. I want options on their land by noon.”
By seven-thirty, Rafael’s dining room had become command central. Maps covered the table. Tablets glowed with budgets and boundary lines. Conservationists joined by video. Engineers argued over terrain.
Rafael stood at the head of the room in rolled shirtsleeves, dark hair still damp from the shower he barely remembered taking. “We are not building an attraction,” he said. “We are building refuge.”
He clicked to an image of a sloth hanging in dappled light. “No petting encounters. No photos with tourists. No handling unless medically necessary. Guests come on the animals’ terms—or not at all.”
Heads nodded.
“We protect habitat. We fund rescues. We create jobs so local communities earn more from conservation than capture. We teach visitors that beauty is not something you cage.” His voice lowered. “And we begin today.”
The room fell silent for one charged second. Then everyone moved. Calls were made. Funds transferred. Land surveys commissioned. Builders dispatched. Veterinarians contacted in Costa Rica and Colombia.
By nine o’clock, trucks were climbing the mountain road with fencing, solar equipment, and nursery materials.
Rafael stepped onto the veranda at last.
The mist had lifted. Sun poured over the plantation. Below, in the pale branches of a guarumo tree, he saw a familiar shape.
A sloth.
Curled along a thick branch near the canopy, like a sacred blessing. Unhurried. Undisturbed. Unworried. Peace prevailed.
His chest tightened unexpectedly.
“I’ve got you,” he said quietly.
And because Rafael Álvarez was a man whose promises became reality, by the time the woman who would change everything arrived in Panama three weeks later—with grief in her suitcase and inheritance papers in her hand—the sanctuary was already rising from the earth.
END OF EXCERPT
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p.s. I can’t wait to hear how Mary-Anne and Rafael’s love story touches your heart….I already have his brother’s story drafted! All inspired by my travels in Panama.
Learning to let go of the past, to heal. Mary – Anne shares her story. It’s so powerful. She’s learning to trust again and it’s beautiful to see.
Raphael gives Mary – Anne the sweetest gift. The Sloth Necklace symbolises not rushing. He makes her feel comfortable. She trusts him and feels safe with him. Though she is still coming to terms with her past. This story shows how one man can help her heal and she might just heal him too.
“The rarest things are never possessed. Love them and they become Luminous.” Rafael works with Emeralds and this statement could not be truer.
What I love is that Mollie writes the truth about how relationships don’t always last. She does not feed Fairytales. Characters have hard pasts that shape how they see love. The challenges they face to love again are real, will they get their second chance?
The character’s backstories are heartbreaking and will resonate with some readers. Divorce is such a hard topic and how it affects people is written beautifully within these pages. “Love never given leaves a deep mark on hearts born to love.” It’s actually hard to read in parts is it’s so emotional and truthful.
Secrets. This scene is so filled with tension, how the weather, the thunder, reflects the weight of the truth or half truth Rafael gives her to protect her. The truth is harrowing, will it be the end for them?
“Older – sunlight sliding across pale stone, balconies tangled with bougainvillea, the air humming with salt, traffic and jasmine. Even the humidity felt intentional here, is if the city wanted to slow her down, force her to feel.” Panama sounds like such a beautiful place. It’s pictured in such a way I feel like I am there in the midst of it all the salty Jasmine air really appreciating the message to slow down.
A fight to save what’s left of Legacy and deep down Love. The outcome is to be seen but the ride along the way is filled with rebuilding her Grandmother’s home, Italian Poems and Christmas.
“A rainbow arched over the house” This along with the Blue Rose and Hummingbird is a beautiful memory of Mary – Anne’s grandmother. The house welcomes her granddaughter home. This scene really hit me. So emotional, powerful and symbolic.
The details within this book are so detailed I feel every emotion, every piece of Panama and every pane within Mary – Ann’s grandmother’s house. Even down to her car. I can picture it all. So much time and thought has gone into this book and I feel it. The passion and love for these characters that grow into who they are mean’t to be once more. This one is well worth the read.
“That love should expand you, not dim you; awaken you, not tuck you in.”
Can Mary – Anne and Rafael work together to save the land that threatens to be taken away from them, no matter what is thrown at them? Does love conquer all in this case?
The Character development for Mary – Anne is evident. I’ve loved seeing her be able to move on and really grow from her past. She has a bright future as an illustrator and product developer and taking care of her Grandmother’s Land, and has learned to stand up for what she believes in, maybe even love.
Another person tries to take what they have built. Will they succeed? One thing is for sure no solid ending is guaranteed in this book. Some people will really surprise you.
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