Missionary Position Synopsis:
Sex? Absolutely
Love? Not my thing.
I didn't do love or butterflies, but I loved him.
I was screwed, and not in a good way.
Selah Elmore is a smart, independent woman who knows exactly who she is and what she wants. She loves her life being a professor and popular pirate erotica author. However, when she leaves the Pacific Northwest to spend six months studying sculpture in West Africa, she learns she doesn't know a thing about love.
Cocky, suit-wearing Gerhard charms her during a stopover in Amsterdam, but dashing, adventurous Kai sweeps her off her feet in Ghana.
Sparks fly on three continents when perpetually single Selah discovers there's more to love and life than she ever imagined.
Before writing bestselling contemporary adult romances, I dreamed of being an author while doing a lot of other things. Antiques dealer, baker, blue ribbon pie-maker, fangirl, freelance writer, gardener, pet mom and wife are a few of the other titles I've acquired over the years.
Born and raised in San Diego, I currently lives in a real life Stars Hollow in the Boston suburbs with my husband, our dog Hubbell, and an imaginary house goat.
Missionary Position is a spin-off from my first novel, Geoducks Are for Lovers. Like my second novel, Ready to Fall, it can be read as a standalone contemporary romance/romantic comedy.
AN EXCERPT:
Instead of kissing my lips, Kai leaned in and kissed first
one cheek, then the other with agonizingly slow movements. Our breaths mingled,
but he didn’t kiss my mouth. He moved closer to my ear, his breath tickling my
neck, torturing me, building up my desire to crash my mouth to his.
“Kiss me, then.” My voice trembled.
“I am kissing you.” He emphasized his words by pressing his
lips against my forehead.
I groaned and shifted to meet his eyes again. Merriment and
lust danced behind those dark lashes.
Fuck this.
I reached up to his neck, clutched his hair, and pulled his
mouth to mine. He laughed before returning my kiss.
Our inappropriate for public kiss of earlier had nothing on
this one. In the privacy of the screened sun hut, I unleashed my pent-up frustration.
I moaned like a porn queen, grateful Ama wasn’t home.
His hands left my face, skimming down over my breasts, then
settling on my hips, encouraging me to move closer to him. I obliged by
straddling his thighs.
Bless long, full skirts.
Settling me on his lap, he took over, controlling the kiss
and letting his hands roam my body. I gently pulled at his hair, cupped his
face, and dragged my fingers along his scruff before venturing further south to
explore his wide shoulders and biceps through the thin linen of his shirt. His
body was El Dorado, and I sought his hidden treasure.
Full body contact in humid afternoon air created stickiness
and wetness, which had nothing to do with arousal. I could feel sweat
glistening on my neck and chest, pooling between my breasts, but didn’t want to
stop kissing. Who needed air?
His mouth left mine and he worked his way down my neck,
kissing and licking a path to my collarbone. “Mmm, salty,” he said.
I froze. We were making out like teenagers, and I was
sweating like the proverbial whore in church. Sweat plus arousal equaled a
sweaty pussy. Swussy. Sexy? Not sexy.
“Sorry. It’s hot.”
North Sea blue flashed at me. “Why are you apologizing?”
“For being sweaty.”
“It’s Ghana. Everyone’s sweaty. Here, lick me.” He offered up
his neck.
“Seriously?”
“Come on, you know you want to.”
“Are we doing body shots? Is this spring break?”
He laughed, then licked the corner of his mouth. “I love the
way you taste.”
I blinked and my Kegel muscles involuntarily tightened at
his words. This man could be my undoing.
I licked him—of course I licked him—on that magical place
right below his ear where the corner of his strong jaw jutted out. I could cut
steak with his jaw. Maybe I’d try later. For now, I traced my nose along his
scruff, inhaling his good sweaty, man smell. When I reached the spot of soft
skin below his ear, I darted my tongue out to taste him. He tasted salty, too.
I wanted to lick him all over his body, starting at his ear and working my way
down, much further down. He could be my personal salt lick.
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