Safari Moon: Solo St. John, a wildlife photographer, is preparing for a trip to Alaska.  Suddenly, Solo finds women of all sorts invading his privacy.

Safari Moon: Contemporary Romance

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REVIEW: Safari Moon

Safari Moon by AnnChristine
Publisher: Rogue Phoenix Press
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Length: Full Length (154 pgs)
Rated: 5 Stars
Reviewed by It’s  Raining Books

Funny and Sweet

Imagine, if you can, our hero, sound asleep and dreaming a delightful, erotic dream. Suddenly he is awakened by an almost naked, sexy woman, walking into his bedroom accompanied by her pet skunk.

And that is how Safari Moon begins. I chuckled to myself as I continued reading. It seemed that he, a wild life photographer, put an ad in the paper for an assistant, but somehow his Grandfather changed the ad and it now stated that he was desperately in need of a wife. Immediately our handsome, confirmed bachelor is surrounded by a bevy of giggling, panting, eager women wanting to marry him.

How he plans his escape from all the desperate women involves an old friend he gets to help him. Since the friend is presently engaged to someone else and doesn’t really want to get involved, it’s more than a little complicated. They arrive in Alaska, planning on pretending they are an item. Then Grandfather and Grandmother arrive. The story continues with much laughing on my part, and many misunderstandings, especially when the fiancé shows up.

The story is funny and complicated due to the fact that each of the two main characters are trying to pretend that they really don’t care about each other. And since neither is able to keep his or her hands off the other, the story becomes hilarious.

Safari Moon is not your typical romance, and I really loved it.

BLURB: Safari Moon

Solo St. John, a wildlife photographer, is preparing for a trip to Alaska. Suddenly, Solo finds women of all sorts invading his privacy, his home and his office, all cooing nonsense words and blatantly throwing themselves at him.  Solo doesn’t know why, and he has no idea how to rid himself of the persistent women.  He finally decides to beg a favor of his best buddy Nyssa Harrington.

Excerpt: Safari Moon

Wanted: A professional wildlife photographer to take pictures in the Alaskan wilderness. Experience first hand a real safari moon. Call(555)381-1252 or send resumes to 2286 Main, Suite 2D Bend, Oregon.

Solo St. John was in the middle of an erotic dream about his buddy, Nyssa Harrington, when the click of his front door shutting brought him to instant alert mode.

Solo looked up, caught a flashing glimpse of a good deal of naked flesh; long legs, perfectly rounded derriere, and a waist he could span with his hands. The intruder’s long blond hair curled around her shoulders an inch above the ties of her bikini top.

Then he saw the skunk. He blinked twice.

This woman and the skunk were not the subject of his brief and very strange dream, a fantasy that made his mind speed along at sixty in a residential zone. This was someone he had never seen before and he resented the intrusion.

“Hello,” she cooed seductively from his living room. “Will you come out and play?”

The skunk stuck a black and white head around the open door to his bedroom. A second later the animal turned and lifted his tail before disappearing into the living room.

Solo was out of bed and pulling on his jeans before the count of five. Yet in that short time, the lady in question, along with the skunk that was now exploring his fireplace hearth, had taken over his living room.

The lithe, supple blond sported an expensive camera, and all the while the lady in question babbled nonsense words.

“I’m willing, able, and eager.” She posed for him, a pose meant to entice.

“You’re insane?” He hesitated then said to the lady, “Get that animal out of here!”

“I read the ad in the newspaper for a wildlife photographer, and I wanted to be the first one here.” She smiled and tugged on a leash which was connected to the skunk. “Juniper is my pet. She’s deperfumed or whatever.”

Pet?

He had never, to his recollection, set eyes on this woman. Frozen stock-still in his bare feet between the bedroom and the living room of his rustic forest retreat in the hills outside Sisters, Oregon, Solo St. John was completely, utterly baffled.

After all, he had placed the ad in a few of the most widely distributed papers in Oregon. That was two days ago. Yesterday, having second thoughts and knowing he didn’t want to train an assistant, he pulled it. Although none of this made sense, instinctively, he knew she told the truth. The ad was the cause of this phenomenon in his cabin.

“Come here and play.” Posing seductively once again, she beckoned him with one slim index finger.

Why didn’t he want to play? Wouldn’t any normal, warm-blooded American male dream of waking up to an almost naked blond bombshell in his living room? Wouldn’t that male want to play?

Why didn’t he feel turned on and excited. Why didn’t he fantasize about what would happen if he obeyed? All those lush curvaceous parts on display didn’t interest him in the least.

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