Monday, 17 March 2014

Shower sex for the black woman? By @NanaPrah #Giveaway

Happy Monday, people! Today I have the vivacious Nana Prah with me talking about shower sex and her latest book Midwife to Destiny. She is a fab friend and a fellow member of Romance Writers of West Africa.

Please make her feel welcome and leave her a comment. She's also giving away an Amazon gift card to one lucky person.

Now over to Nana...
I would equate black women with cats. Other than being finicky and heavily sought after, the main reason is that we hate getting our hair wet. Hate it. Think about it for a second – how many black women do you know who are professional swimmers or divers? Hmmmm.  Any other sport we will delve into with gusto, but water sports- nuh uh.

When I read a scene in novel where the couple is having sex in the shower, I cringe, especially when the water sluices through the hair. First of all they’re not describing a black woman  unless:
1. She’s about to go get her hair done the next day
2. She sports a natural do
3. Is having sex in the shower for the very first time and wants to experiment (she’ll learn the consequences soon enough).

If she really wanted to have sex in the shower she’d pause the scene and say something like, “Why don’t you suds up while I go get my swimming cap.”  Kind of kills the mood doesn’t it?  

She’d be more likely to say, “Let’s dry off and finish this in the bedroom or against the sink.” 

She’d be thinking,  “There’s no way I’m getting my hair wet. He may be good, but he’s not that good. I sat in the saloon for six hours getting these braids (supplement with weave on or relaxer) in. Do you know how long it would take for them to dry? I am not trying to pay good money to return to the hair dresser so soon.  No thanks.”

And this is why it would be a rare event to find a black woman having sex in the shower.

The Blurb
Ghanaian nurse Aurora ‘Ora’ Aikins never expected to find the love of her life while on vacation in South Africa. Engaged to another and believing that love has no place in her life, she returns to Ghana, and puts duty and honor first.

Three years later, Dr. Jason Lartey still can’t get Ora out of his mind or his heart. After learning she never married, he takes a risk and moves to Ghana hoping to rekindle what they started. His sudden appearance in Ora’s Emergency Department sends sparks flying all over again.

They’re in the same country, working in the same hospital, and together but distance creeps between them. Can they make their destined love one for the ages? 

Buy Links

About the Author:
Nana Prah was born in Ghana, West Africa, raised in the US and currently resides in Ghana where she loves her job as a writer and nurse educator. She has been writing since she can remember (in her journal) and has been an avid reader of romance novels since the eighth grade. She has finally been able to utilize the years and years of inadvertent research into writing her own romance novels where love always conquers all.

Contact Details:
Twitter: @NanaPrah

Enjoy the following excerpt for Midwife to Destiny:

Ora focused on putting one foot in front of the other as if she were a one-year-old learning how to walk. After turning the corner and seeing the back of his head, she froze. She would know that head anywhere. He’d grown his hair out a little, but his adorable, Will Smith ears gave him away. Initiating the process of pivoting and sprinting out of the ED unnoticed sprang to mind when he turned around and his gaze caught hers.

The air became charged with tension and neither of them moved. Her heart threatened to pop out of her chest with the force of each beat. The nurses stood between them, looking back and forth as if they watched a tennis match. They didn’t bother to hide their expressions of curiosity.

They’d never seen Ora behave in such a manner. Not cool as a cucumber super nurse. Like herself, they kept looking at the new doctor just because of his tall, broad-shouldered, gorgeous stature. The past three years had matured him, adding a few lines around his eyes and the new feature of a goatee with a moustache changed his countenance a little. But otherwise, the same man she’d met three years ago, at least in the physical sense, stood before her.

After an eternity, Ora snapped back to attention. “Akwaaba, Dr. Lartey. Welcome to the ward.” Madam Professional stuck out her hand for a handshake.

Her words seemed to drag him out of his own stupor. “Uh….”

She had rendered the man speechless. Ora’s gracious nature—that’s what she blamed it on, anyway—took pity on him and she touched his shoulder. The contact sent sensual awareness through her and she recoiled her hand.

“Hello, Aurora. Please forgive me. It’s just that I’m a little surprised to see you.”

“Not as much as I am,” she muttered, attempting to squash both the joy bubbling up inside of her at seeing him again and the overwhelming sadness of what she’d been missing for so long.

“Pardon me?” he asked.

“I didn’t expect to see you here. It’s a surprise to me, too.” She tried to smile, but it came out contorted, as if she’d been able to have a painful, rocky bowel movement after being constipated for seven days.

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