Marina Taylor is a bold, adventure-seeking writer with a one-way ticket to Rome and big dreams to write her book, Italian Women of Influence . . . but an undeniable connection with an irresistible stranger—and her penchant for disaster—just may derail her plans.

Inspired by actress and sex icon Regina Lombardi, Marina tries to master the sexual gaze as she researches her book and stumbles her way through Italian scholars, Turkish footballers, and Sicilian twins. From the nightclubs of Rome to a Venetian masquerade ball, Marina’s escapades leave her yearning for a particular French-Italian photographer. Will she catch her illusive stranger, or prove more calamity than coquette? And what about the ruggedly down-to-earth ex who's waiting for her back home?

Equal parts laugh-out-loud travel comedy and sexy adventure, Marina’s first trip abroad will inspire you to throw your own itinerary out the window and throw caution to the wind. Art, love, sex, wine—the Italian playboy and the boy next door—who says you can’t have it all?

Excerpt

How Not To Seduce a Man

Ristorante La Brezza, Positano, Italy:

Tuesday, 11:26 p.m.

The dynamic lesbian duo I meet on the train from Rome to Positano are full of wing-woman potential. I’m traveling alone, so the refined, blonde Parisian one who reminds me of a beautiful wood nymph invites me to join them for dinner with her friends. Her saucy British girlfriend, more nympho than nymph, orders me to come. I accept out of curiosity and fear of insulting the Brit, who was clearly Wicked Spice, a sixth girl, kicked out of the group for bad behavior. Anyway, I didn’t just come to Italy to research a book. I came to meet people and have adventures. This qualifies as both. Positano is a sleepy, gorgeous town near the Italian Riviera, and the warmly lit trattoria is right on the blue-green water. I have no idea he will be there. Dinner is eccellente. Dessert does not go as planned. If you are ever traveling on your own Italian-love-cation, here are some things I learned.

HINTS FOR NOT BEING “TOO AMERICAN”:

1. Espresso is to be enjoyed after dessert, not with. (What are you, a hedonist?)

2. Fragola and Limoncello are digestive liqueurs. Not shots. Trust me. (You don’t want to be cleaning your own strawberry-lemon smoothie off the floor of your pensione bathroom at 2:00 a.m.)

3. Italians don’t do doggie bags. (Even if they were the best meat-balls you ever had in your life, don’t try to put the last three in your purse.)

The meal is finishing up.

AT THIS POINT, IF: you’ve been playing footsies with the sexy photographer across from you, only to realize it’s actually the female Alitalia pilot or the leg of the table…

YOU SHOULD: start the Escher-esque climb of steps back to your pen-sione.

DO NOT: do what I do now.

I take a slow look around the table so it doesn’t seem like I’m looking at him. I know him. He’s a certain half-French, half-Italian photographer from the Roman fountain last week. The cocky, handsome stranger had pissed me off, and I’d taken the high road, instead of a ride in his sports car. Since that day, I’d distracted myself pretty fantastically, but Frantonio (I’d decided to call him this since I never got his name), kept slipping back into my mind.

Tonight when we were introduced we both pretended not to recognize each other. Now, he sips espresso, listening to his friend talk about football while staring at me. Is it hot in here? When we met in Rome, he had the upper hand. I decide now that tonight will be different. Seduction is a fine art to be practiced by masters. Rembrandt. Degas. Renoir. Me, I’m more of a Pollock. It’s definitely hot in here.

I fill my glass with ice from the Prosecco bucket, lift my hair, and roll the glass gently against my neck, willing him to watch me. How sexy is this? Unfortunately, I’ve forgotten the bright red “Luscious Passion” lipstick on my glass, and I now have red smears on my neck as if I’ve been recently strangled. Sadly, I am unaware of this. Seeing that I’ve got his attention, I shift my weight so the neck of my dress drapes open enough for the lace of my bra to show. Glancing down, I then remember my one sexy bra had smelled like a gladiator in the Colosseum after he’d been beaten and buried for thousands of years. Tonight I’ve worn my sensible, once-white-now-gray-and-fraying Target bra. I quickly sit up straight again. Or at least what I think is straight. The pictures on the wall opposite all slope downhill as if I’m on a cruise ship. I’m sure it has nothing to do with all the wine I’ve had.

I know he recognizes me also. How could he not? It was only a brief encounter, but I remembered every inch of him. I allow my eyes to wander over his nicely shaped forearms, his dirty blond, perfectly ruffled hair, the graceful arc of his collarbone, his strong jawline peppered with stubble, and the firm curve of his lip. But what’s been creeping into my dreams are those eyes, framed by his glasses—deep brown with hints of gold and playful, curling lashes. He is gorgeous. Here’s a second chance to see what’s behind door number one. It’s now or never. I rise slowly. I’m not a person who passes up risky potential for a safe bet. As I walk toward the hall that leads to the bathroom, I throw Frantonio a sexy smile. Andiamo. Let’s go.

IF YOU’VE MADE IT THIS FAR, FOLLOW THESE INSTRUCTIONS:

1. Quick pee and hand wash.

2. Cleavage hike.

3. Breath check.

4. Pit sniff and pit wipe

5. In the hall, drape yourself against the wall and channel your best Jessica (Biel, Alba, Simpson, for me it’s Rabbit).

6. Wait.

DO NOT: reapply previously mentioned “Luscious Passion” red lipstick

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Published in the United States by Cleis Press, an imprint of Start Midnight, LLC, 221

River Street, Ninth Floor, Hoboken, New Jersey 07030.

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About the Author

Karina Kennedy is a romantic writer and a restless spirit. Growing up in Florida, she cheated her Choose Your Own Adventure books by keeping fingers stuck in the pages so she could change her mind. Who wants only one adventure? Karina is inspired by strong, creative women in all walks of life and uses this passion to fuel her travels all over the world. As an intrepid explorer she is unwilling to miss out on a memory, willing to bend the rules, unafraid of her own beauty, and ready to share it with those who deserve it. Karina hopes to inspire and entertain other like-minded people to explore the world, fall in love, or just have fun.

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