Charity Sunday: For Nature -- #ApexPredator #ClimateChange #CharitySunday

Welcome to the April edition of the Charity Sunday blog hop. Since Earth Day was just a week ago, I thought I’d focus this month on an environmental charity. Specifically, for this Charity Sunday I am supporting the Mountain Lion Foundation.

The mission of MLF is to help ensure the survival of the American mountain lion (also known as cougars, pumas or panthers). Their work includes teaching people how to co-exist with mountain lions, fighting legislation (e.g. related to hunting or trapping) that jeopardizes mountain lions, conducting research into mountain lion distribution and behavior, and generally raising public awareness about lions.

It may seem that this is a very narrow mandate, compared to other organizations like the Wilderness Society or the World Wildlife Fund. However, mountain lions are both a key indicator of a healthy environment, and a factor in maintaining such an environment. As an apex predator, mountain lions function as ecological engineers, meaning they help keep entire ecosystems functioning properly. Lions reduce the time deer and elk spend browsing along streams, which helps protect our waterways from both droughts and flooding. Furthermore, mountain lion carrion provides food sources for countless wildlife species, helping maintain biodiversity and keeping ecosystems intact and resilient to change.

Of course, mountain lions are a prime example of “charismatic megafauna”. They are beautiful, powerful, and intelligent. Engaging people emotionally with mountain lions is one way to make them more aware of the wonders of nature in general – and of the threats to the environment created by humans.

 

Anyway, I will donate two dollars to the Mountain Lion Foundation for every comment I receive on this post.

My excerpt comes from Hot Spell, a paranormal erotic romance with an environmental/nature theme. It’s the first book of my Elemental Passions series. (So far there are two – I really need to write the third!)

In addition to the donations, I will give away a free copy of this book to one person who leaves a comment.

Blurb

The flames of passion are more than metaphor

Comfortable and at home in nature, Sylvie doesn't mind being alone in the wilderness. But she's not the only being haunting the glades and the trails. The stranger she encounters bathing in the stream near her camp obviously wants her, but refuses to act on his desire. Aidan is cursed with a power he fears will destroy her if they surrender to their passion. Can Sylvie refrain from tempting him?

 

Excerpt

The miles evaporated as Sylvie raced along the highway. Hot wind from the open window whipped her long hair back behind her. As the road climbed under her wheels, her spirits rose as well. She sang along with the oldies station as she drove—Satisfaction, Thunder Road, Born to Be Wild. The DJ’s playlist matched her mood. For the first time in weeks, she felt free, the burdens and worries of city life left behind her. Even the continuing heat failed to oppress her, spiked as it was with the scents of pine and wildflowers.

She reached the trailhead about five. Sunlight slanted between the towering trees like gold bars. She locked her car, then shouldered her pack and set out at a brisk pace for the campsite, about three miles up the path. She’d camped in these woods before, when she’d been in college. It seemed like a hundred years ago.

Alice and Jill had been appalled when she’d told them her plans. “Alone? In the middle of the wilderness?” Jill’s perfectly shaped eyebrows had knit in a frown. “What if something happens?”

“What could happen?” she’d laughed, guessing that neither of her friends had ever taken a hike or slept under the stars—or would ever consider doing so.

“Wild animals! Bears. Mountain lions. Or you might fall, break a leg and be stranded. You could starve to death.”

“And what about murderers or rapists?” Alice had rapped her fingernails against her desk. Her turquoise enamel matched her outfit. “You never know who you’ll meet out there in the woods.”

“I’ll have my phone,” she’d reassured them, although she’d known there’d likely be no signal. “Animals are shy. They won’t bother me if I don’t bother them. And I took a self-defense course last year. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Anyway, you’ll know where I am. If I’m not back on Tuesday, send out the National Guard.”

She strode along the trail, swinging her arms and filling her lungs with the fragrant mountain air. Sweat pooled in her armpits and under her breasts. The weather was still unseasonably warm, but a fresh breeze played amongst the trees, hinting at the coolness to come wherever it touched her damp skin. As dusk shrouded the forest, her senses grew keener. An owl perched on an overhanging branch—she caught the yellow glint of its eyes. Some furred creature skittered through the underbrush and the mournful call of a loon reached her from the direction of Crystal Lake, miles away. A spicy hint of crushed fennel tickled her nose, triggering a pang of hunger. Sylvie smiled, remembering the chunks of salmon marinating in a Ziplock bag in her backpack. She’d brought a half bottle of wine, too, for her first dinner in the wild. Somehow, she’d felt like celebrating.

Full night had fallen by the time she reached the campsite, perched on a ridge above the steep banks of Sandman Creek. As she piled fallen branches inside the ring of blackened stones and kindled them into a merry blaze, she could hear the stream singing to itself…or maybe welcoming her back where she belonged.

Her meal was every bit as tasty and satisfying as she’d anticipated. Afterwards, she sat for what seemed like hours, her back against the rough bark of a huge spruce, tasting the residual sweetness of her wine, watching the fire burn down to a clutch of glowing embers. The cinders shone from within like some dragon’s precious cache—ruby, gold, an occasional flash of emerald. The play of light fascinated her.

Her muscles ached from the strenuous hike. Her hair was in knots and a sticky film of perspiration coated her skin. None of that mattered. Peace enfolded her, along with a profound sense of well-being. The breeze whispered to her. The creek babbled and laughed.

Water. A bath. Relaxed, lazy and sated though she was, the notion still held an irresistible appeal. Sylvie checked the remains of the fire to assure herself that there was no chance it would escape the rocks encircling it. Then she dug a towel out of her pack and headed down the forested slope to the creek.

The gurgle of water tumbling over stone grew louder as she approached. The very sound was refreshing. A few feet from the edge, she stripped off her clothes, draping them and her towel over a convenient boulder. She was about to step out of the woods when an unexpected movement caught her eye.

There was something splashing in the creek a bit downstream from where she stood—something…or someone. Sylvie shrank back into the shadow of the trees.

Directly opposite her, the stream rushed over river-polished rocks, flecked with white froth. To her right, though, it widened into a calm pool, black as the sky above. The unexpected noise came from there.

She peered into the night. All she could see at first was a round, furry mass that seemed to float upon the surface. Ripples stirred as a figure rose from the water. At the same time, the half moon climbed above the crest of the trees. Its pale rays revealed the form of a naked man.

Sylvie caught her breath. His back was to her—a gleaming, sculpted expanse that swept down to a narrow waist, then flared into taut buttocks. A curtain of wet hair clung to his neck and shoulders. He took a step forwards, water swirling around his lean thighs. The grace and power revealed by that small motion made Sylvie ache inside. She’d rarely encountered such beauty in a man.

He turned then, and the ache deepened to an agony of want. Sleek skin stretched over his muscled chest and abdomen, strewn with glittering drops of moonlight. He turned his face to the sky and Sylvie caught a glimpse of features that seemed carved from marble—a soaring brow, chiseled jaw, sharp cheekbones and a broad, resolute mouth. The man’s eyes were closed, as though he was praying to the moon.

For buy links see https://www.lisabetsarai.com/hotspellbook.html

I hope you’ll visit the other authors participating in today’s Charity Sunday event.

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