Excerpt: Call of the Jaguar by Pamela S. Beason

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Excerpt: Call of the Jaguar by Pamela S. Beason

Pamela S. Beason is a hybrid author. She's self-published, has been published by Wild Rose Press, and her Sam Westin mystery series will be published by Berkley Prime Crime in 2011.

CALL OF THE JAGUAR is on sale for $1.99. Here's the blurb:

On Rachel McCarthy's fortieth birthday, trading her cheating husband for a glamorous former lover seems like a brilliant idea. But her plane is shot down, the lover's a snake, and—barring a miracle—it looks like she and her intrepid pilot will not survive her mid-life crisis.

In the distance, the jungle resumed, green and dense, and beyond that, a reddish-colored mountain floated above the treetops.

"Is that El Castillo?" Alex asked.

"Yes, that's my mountain." Her heart lifted at the sight. At least that hadn't changed. The plane's shadow flitted over the green jungle below as they neared the peak. "Look," Rachel said. "There's a landing strip."

Alex flew lower, tilting the wings as he circled the strip of rough red dirt slashed out of the jungle. "I don't see any ruins."

Rachel peered across him, looking out his side window, searching for any sign of the archaeological site. Alex wheeled the plane again and they spiraled lower. As they neared the landing strip, several men stepped out of the jungle. They were dressed in camouflage fatigues and they carried automatic rifles.

Alex stiffened and gripped the yoke nervously. "Uh-oh. Was your professor expecting us?"

Oh shit, she had told him she had an urgent message for Dr. Kerby, hadn't she? "I doubt it," she said. "I couldn't call—no phone, no fax. No electricity."

The men on the ground raised their rifles to their shoulders. Alex jerked back the yoke. "Shit!"

Shots rang out around them as the plane climbed suddenly and steeply, leaving Rachel's stomach somewhere near her feet. She ducked her head beneath the window. Bullets pinged off the exterior of the plane.

"Goddamn it!" Alex shouted toward his side window. "Can't they see we're civilians?

The pinging of bullets stopped and Alex leveled off. Rachel pulled herself together, sat up straight, and chanced a look out the window. "We made it." She heaved a sigh of relief. "We're out of range."

Her brain was still flashing like a warning light. What the hell had just happened? The mountain was El Castillo; she knew they were in the right location. Patrick was down there somewhere. Why was the place crawling with armed soldiers? What was she supposed to do now?

"What's Plan B?" Alex asked, echoing her thoughts. "Back to Antigua?"

The engine sputtered. A warning light flashed red on the instrument panel. Damn. Rachel clutched for her armrests, realized she had none, and ended up wadding the denim above her knees in terrified fistfuls. Alex shot her a glance filled with anger. He tipped the plane on a wing again, his gaze raking over the terrain below.

"Shit!" he yelled again. He nodded toward the warning light, which seemed to glow redder with each passing second. "That's the oil gauge. The pan must be hit. I have to put her down."

Rachel couldn't stop the chant in her head. Oh god, oh god, oh god. This couldn't be happening. The sputtering of the failing engine grew louder. They wheeled in an ever descending spiral. Beneath them was a carpet of endless treetops; she couldn't even see the ground. Couldn't he see that? They'd die slamming into the trees. "Are you crazy?" she shouted. "We're over the jungle! There's no place to land."

His gaze locked on a spot ahead. "There, a cornfield."

She followed his gaze. Yes, a field loomed ahead. She'd been regretting the clearcutting and burning just a few minutes ago and now she was supremely thankful for it.

The engine sputtered out. All was silent for a second as they hung suspended in the air. Rachel stared at Alex, afraid to speak. Blue eyes, dark hair, weathered face, not a bad looking man. He might be the last human being she'd ever see. She really didn't want to say anything she'd regret at The Pearly Gates.

Then the plane began to fall. Air rushed by, louder and louder. Screaming would not help. She swallowed instead and said in a shaky voice, "Aren't we going down awfully fast?"

Alex was pulling back on the yoke for all he was worth. "Lady, this isn't a glider."