Deep, what, where now...?

I do kind of like romance about chefs. It's a voyeuristic thing because I don't cook. But then I don't do ninja acrobatics or woo werewolves either, and that doesn't stop me wanting to read about it.

I have to say, however, that I am totally confused as to what is being acheived by the fully-clothed evening beach yoga on the cover... and where her other leg is?