New Release! “Falling Leaves in Autumn” Available Now

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I love Autumn!  I love the smell, the sounds of leaves crunching under your feet.  Your eyes become sensitive to all the sensitive hues of orange, yellow and gold…  Which is why I had to give Autumn its own book in the Seasons of Love series.   There was “Disturbing the Yuletide” then “Shaking up the New Year” and now you have “Falling Leaves in Autumn.” Check out the excerpt below and enjoy! 

 

Justine Marshall is in a mood. Not that she doesn’t adore the fact that her best friend Topaz is was marrying the great love of her life; she’s ecstatic, but being alone while trying to plan the wedding to end all weddings has her in a funk and admittedly jealous. In an effort to keep her emotions from spilling into Topaz’s happy day, Justine comes up with one surefire solution: find a bed buddy. 

Clark Pinot has been trying to get Justine’s attention for months, which is the only reason he volunteered to go shopping with the guarded woman in the first place. When she comes to him with the ridiculous idea of being her “booty call,” he sees it as the one opportunity to prove he isn’t the Casanova she thinks he is and what he wants is much more than a tumble in the sack. Breaking down Justine’s defenses won’t be easy, but he’s determined to see them fall like the leaves in autumn.

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**EXCERPT**The sun was setting, casting a comforting orange glow over the turning leaves. It was my favorite time of year, the transition into autumn, and I found the hues of oranges, yellows, and reds comforting. Taking in a deep breath, letting the partially chilled air fill my lungs, I knew I had to get a grip. What are you doing? You know dang well Clark Pinot is nothing but a rolling stone with an accent. Who’s to say you can’t have a bit of a fling before he leaves? I sighed. Flings weren’t in my nature. Even as I tried to summon up some of my courage to just flirt with the man, I couldn’t even do that. It’s funny how when you are warring with yourself, you can’t pick a side. 

“Well that is one way to end a discussion.” His voice made me gasp. It was a rich baritone that vibrated when he laughed, like it was doing now. I had to cross my legs to keep my wayward womanhood under control. 

“There was nothing to discuss. You have your opinion, and I’ve got mine. You don’t make it in this world without having to drop the rose-colored glasses sometimes. I’m not jaded on love, I just don’t think it is perfect, and I haven’t found the other half to my imperfection yet, just like you, Clark.” 

“I can see that, Justine.” Oh the way he said my name made me want to curl up beside him and purr. Yet, I still couldn’t bring myself to even entertain the idea of making a bed buddy out of Clark. It would be too dangerous. 

“So, you want to take some bags with you back to…” His lips touched mine before I even realized he was standing that close to me. It was a gentle, tentative, and explorative kiss that left me breathless. His hand, which was resting slightly on my shoulder, moved down my biceps, down my forearm, and then, just when I thought I couldn’t take any more of his subtle touches, his large, tanned fingers intertwined with mine. It wasn’t the kisses I’d read about and hoped for in my novels, the ones that bruise your lips, but a light kiss, an appetizer with the promise of so much more.

Coming Soon to Mocha Memoirs Press

Are you looking for a short and hot read, something like a shot of espresso to your senses?  How about something that will get you going and in the mood like your favorite cup of coffee? Look for Java Rain, by yours truly coming soon to Mocha Memoirs Press and an eReader near you.  

Aquarian Stars by Nevea Lane – Available Now

Beauty & the Geek: Aquarian Stars

Buy at Amazon

Nikolas Perminov’s assignment in America was finished. His project was a success, and now he could go home to his beloved Russia and hide behind his telescope. He couldn’t help to feel a sense of loss when he realized his assignment being finished meant that he would no longer see his assistant, Eloise. He was sure that Eloise didn’t look at him as a man but as her bore of a boss.

Eloise, however, couldn’t get to sleep at night without thinking about her sexy boss and those azure eyes that hid behind his glasses. If it were up to her, she would throw herself at him and make him whisper Russian phrases in her ear. She also knew that being the hellion she was, she would never fit into his organized world. With one night left together, these two will need help from the stars to see they are perfect for each other.

Product Details File Size: 172 KB Simultaneous Device Usage: Unlimited Publisher: Mocha Memoirs Press (May 21, 2012) Sold by: Amazon Digital Services Language: English ASIN: B00855WS2U Text-to-Speech: Enabled Lending: Enabled

Sex, Erotica and the Stuff in Between

I was having a discussion the other day about what makes my writing any different than a screenplay for a porn movie.    I jokingly replied that my stories have a plot.  

Seriously, it got me thinking; if you don’t typically read well put together erotica, is it just sex in words?   I insert the caveat of ‘well put together’ because let’s face it, there are some books out there that is just plain trash and makes you want to grab the oil barrel and get an old fashioned book burning going on… but I digress.

Erotica (from the Greek Eros—”desire”) or “curiosa”, are works of art, including literature, photography, film, sculpture and painting, that deal substantively with erotically stimulating or sexually arousing descriptions. (en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Erotica). So how is that different than porn? Pornography: creative activity (writing or pictures or films etc.) of no literary or artistic value other than to stimulate sexual desire. (wordnetweb.princeton.edu/perl/webwn)

I know, this is a topic that has been flushed and probably beat into the ground, but it still applies and is still relevant because I still get termed ‘smut writer’ by those who prefer literary greatness.  To those people, I give the one-finger salute because I don’t write to please those that are looking to find the second coming of Rene Descartes in my writing.   

I don’t write just to give any reader sexual gratification, but if they get that from reading one of my scenes, I’m going to pat myself on my back and do a happy dance.   If, however, you read my work and can spy the romance that is involved, then I can say my mission is accomplished. 

In the real world, many of us can have stellar relationships without sex.  Yet, how many of us can admit that the sex in a good relationship is important as well?  I am not talking about what equipment you have either.   I’m talking about do we stimulate each other’s senses in the way that a well written erotica does?  Sex is the cherry on top of a good relationship.  Just as sex is the cherry on top of a good romance book.

There are some readers out there that prefer a good old fashioned romance where the sex is ‘behind closed doors’ and implied.  I started off that way.  My first erotica book, which came at the ripe age of 17, was supposed to be in my mind, a basic collection of short stories.  I didn’t know at that time or age what Black Lace Omnibus was.   Before that moment, I mainly read historicals, Regency romance, contemporary Harlequin novels and so on.  My eyes were definitely opened and so were my tastes.  I blushed and hid the book under my mattress for years, only to be dragged out after a break-up or a really bad day. 

Yet, every romance that I read after that collection of erotica seemed to be lacking.  I wanted more, needed more from the characters.  I wanted to know if the characters were explosive in bed as they were out of it.   However, that is just me.   If you like your romances squeaky clean with no cussing (swearing for the rest of you), I am probably not the author for you.   I can admit that, but as the saying goes, you can only please some of the people some of the time, but you can’t please all of the people all of the time.   

So what is the “in-between”?  It is that murky gray area that makes you wonder if your book is a) Erotica b) Romance with a little sex thrown in, or c) none of the above.    Books written by me, by choice, have one sex scene namely, but sexual tension is apparent through the whole story.  I wouldn’t classify my actual published work as erotica, but some would due to the graphic nature of the scene.   I would say that my short stories that are peppered around here are erotica, period.  So I am happy to be the in-between.  I don’t write porn, but I just don’t write erotica either.

I am always interested in knowing what the readers want from what they have paid their good money for.  Leave a note, drop an email…every author wants/needs/craves feedback.

New eBook by Nevea Lane – Stunt 101 Available Now at BTP



Stunt 101 by Nevea Lane

 

 

It’s been eight years since Ambrosia Davies last laid eyes on Wyatt Arachard. Eight years of trying to inspire the same adrenaline rush Wyatt gave her with a mere look from his smoke-gray eyes. Ambrosia thinks she might have found the rush needed working as a stunt woman in Hollywood. She’s willing to risk her life to keep the thoughts of Wyatt and his sexy dimple at bay.

Wyatt Arachard works as a bodyguard for the newest Hollywood diva. The kicker? The diva is a spoiled thing who won’t even walk from point “a” to point “b”—how in the hell is she going to be in an action movie? Hire a stuntwoman, of course. When Wyatt tries to do his job and keep the diva out of trouble, he ends up grabbing the very woman who’s consumed his thoughts for the past eight years—Ambrosia Davies.

Will Ambrosia still feel the same jolt after laying eyes on Wyatt again? Wyatt has to prove that he’s the only excitement that Ambrosia will ever want or need. Will Ambrosia let Wyatt teach her a few new stunts?

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**EXCERPT**

Ambrosia had no idea what came over Wyatt at that moment, but she could get used to him picking her up. His strong, toned arms held her tight, and she knew he wouldn’t let her go. She contemplated spraining her ankle every once in a while just to have the man carry her around from place to place.

That was when Ambrosia realized the track her mind was following. It was thinking permanency, attaching herself to him for the long haul. When Wyatt finally put her down, her body protested at the loss of his body heat. Ambrosia almost fell into her trailer instead of using the graceful walk she thought she possessed. Being around Wyatt made her forget a lot of things, like her name.

If you want to see what happens, check out Stunt 101, available now at Beautiful Trouble Publishing.

https://beautifultroublepublishing.com/xcart/Stunt-101-EBOOK.html

Sometimes I Wonder…

You know, sometimes I wonder at what started me with writing.  I realize that it could be sheer boredom that makes me position my fingers over the keys to type out a manuscript.  It could be because I have all these funny characters running through my head that are like, homeless. *smile* These characters come barreling into my life and demand that I give them attention.

So I wonder, if I didn’t write, would I be considered crazy because I have characters talking to me in my head.  If I didn’t write, I wouldn’t have a place to put all the sassiness that I have into one person.   I believe that my characters have the ability to say the things that I ‘should’ have said in response to some remark or another.  

I also wonder what people think about my characters.  I know that sometimes being an author of romance, especially erotic interracial romance, it can be a thankless job.  I know that sometimes we can always forget that hey, there are people out there reading your words and your thoughts and they have an opinion too.   Which is why I am glad that the internet has progressed the way that it has.  I am glad that there are now Author Groups where you can sit and gab about your favorite authors and even maybe chat it up with the author if you choose.  I am glad there is a Twitter to follow your favorite authors even if they only tweet a *sigh* every six months.  (They are human beings and they do have a life, and do not merely exist to satisfy our word-cravings, even though we wish they did). 

I also sometimes try to figure out if I weren’t writing, what would I be doing with all my free time?  I would be watching t.v. shows and thinking that I could write a better plot line.  So even if I wasn’t writing, I would be thinking about writing. 

There are other times when I sit down to write, and the plot doesn’t hit me.   I have about sixteen WIP’s on my flash drive where I didn’t get further than a conversation.  The conversation is good, and I refuse to let it die, but what do I do with one good dialog?   So there they sit.

Sometimes the hardest thing to do as a writer is to let the book evolve on its own.  I’m so thankful to eBooks because it allows me the freedom to write something that is either 3,ooo words or 9,000 words and not feel as though I didn’t tell all of the character’s story.  I love the flexibility that being e-pubed allows. 

I’m thankful that we live in a day in age where books, news, gossip and music are so easily accessible.  If it weren’t for eBooks, I would have never discovered the world of multi-cultural/interracial story weavers.  

So those are my musings…which normally come after I have submitted a manuscript.  I bet you are wondering what the next book is…stay tuned and find out…

Chased Through Montana eBook Available Now…

Yummy...

 

This is my newest work, and I am so happy with this cover art.  I am glad to say that Chase Daniels needs a book all of his own…  so tasty…

https://beautifultroublepublishing.com/xcart/Chased-Through-Montana-EBOOK.html

Here is an excerpt:

Detective Layla Owens, after shooting a perp during a drug raid, was placed on mandatory administrative leave, with an “extended vacation” according to her old-fashioned captain and lieutenant. An “extended vacation” to think about her position and all the “things” she could do to make the problem “disappear.” Apparently catching the bad guy and shooting a drug dealer meant you had a problem—if you were a female cop. Disgusted by the captain’s obvious lust for her body, Layla took the leave and hightailed it to Montana. But once there, Layla didn’t expect to run in to someone far more dangerous to her body than criminals or the Maryland PD: Chase Daniels.

Chase Daniels had been around long enough to know that good women don’t just fall in your lap. Women desired him, and he didn’t have to run after any woman—except the day Layla Owens showed up at Stone Ridge. From the moment Chase saw her, all bets were off, and he couldn’t wait to let this detective to frisk him! Why didn’t she drool over him or at least try to get his attention? Chase isn’t used to being the one doing the chasing, but he will pursue the elusive but captivating Layla all up and through Montana just to make her his.

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**EXCERPT**

 

“Ranger!” I yelled, coming around the corner at full speed. I skidded to a halt, the tips of my running shoes turning green in the lush grass. Ranger, the damned traitor, was lapping the face of someone. The dog’s tail was wagging like he’d just found his best friend. Then, the someone spoke.

“Okay, okay lil’ buddy. Since I just fed my girls, I guess I can feed you too. Where’s your papa?” The man’s melodious voice flicked a switch in my body. His tone was a deep and rich vibrato with a hint of a Southern drawl. Yes, his voice was like whisky, and I was already drunk. I bit my lower lip to get myself into check, or to stop the moan that rose to my throat. Five years of celibacy and this man had me wanting to throw my panties at him, and he was only talking to the dog. He could have a face only a mother could love, but his voice alone made me want to pant and drool. Damn.

I cleared my throat and walked over to the man as I watched him scratch Ranger behind his ears. His hair was a darker black than Ranger’s coat. His back was broad, straining against the plain gray t-shirt he wore. His blue jeans looked well worn, and he was wearing them well. As I checked out his jean-clad bottom, I crossed my arms in front of me.

“Ranger has a mama, not a papa,” I said slowly. The man didn’t jump at all; he wasn’t surprised by my voice, as if he expected me to be there. Then, he slowly rose from his hunched position. I think I now know what that little boy Jack must have felt when he was watching the beanstalk grow. Holy Mother was this man large and in charge. I thought he was broad? No, he was a barn. I could see just how muscled his thighs were. He made a proud, tall six-foot woman like me feel like a pocket toy. He had to be at least six foot seven. I must have been drooling, because I felt a gnat fly in my mouth. I smacked my mouth shut and tried to pry my eyes from his chest to his face.

Big mistake. The cerulean glare pinned me to the spot. This man was dangerous. I don’t know who he was, but my cop instinct was telling me to be careful. I had to get back in control. I wasn’t in high school anymore; I was thirty-four, damn it which meant no drooling over guys, barns…whatever the hell old blue eyes here was, I shouldn’t be drooling!

He didn’t have on a hat, or a Stetson like many of the men I’d seen passing by, but he touched his two fingers to his head and nodded just the same, and then he smiled. He had the nerve to have perfect white teeth against that tanned skin of his.

Please God, don’t let him work here!

He walked toward me with an extended hand, a sure smile on his face. Taking my hand in his much larger one, he gave it a firm shake.

“Well hello, Mama.” His voice was more dangerous than the criminals I locked up back home. Whatever it was this man was made of, they needed to bottle it and sell it to us lesser mortals. The combination of his warm hands and even warmer voice had me weak in the knees.

I was here for a vacation, not to get caught up in sinful pleasures with whatever his name was. I tried pulling my hand from his grasp, but he just held tighter. I just stared at our hands entwined his tan skin against my chocolate hue; it was definitely a huge turn-on. Damn, I had only been around this guy for two seconds, and I’d thought about sex for most of it. I am in deep shit.

“It’s not Mama, it’s Detective Layla Owens. Nice to meet you,” I said, giving another tug and getting my hands returned to me. I had to put my hands back in my jean pockets or I was going to be rubbing his chest like he was a magic lamp and I was trying to get a genie to pop out. Yeah, his pants’ genie. Ranger didn’t seem to be ready to make a move as he stood by the man as if I were the stranger.

His inky eyebrows knit together as he folded his arm in front of his chest. His smile disappeared.
“Is one of our boys in trouble? I told Grant that a couple of these newbies would be a handful, but I don’t think I’ve heard Sherriff Jim talk about a beautiful chocolate truffle working for him.” His voice dipped to a whisper as he looked me up and down. This man knew how to play the game; every move he made seemed deliberate and attuned to my need. Or maybe it was my need that was attuned to his movement?

I shook my head and widened my stance, as if he were just another perp I was questioning. I held up my hand in order to stop whatever he was going to say next.

“I am not on duty; I am on vacation, from out east.” There came that smile again.

He walked closer still until he was looking down at me with those mysterious pools of blue.
“So then it’s Layla Owens, and we can drop the ‘detective’? Unless, of course, you would like to frisk me…”

 

 

Conclusion – Private Dancer – Chapter 12

This is it… the conclusion.   I know the writing could use some work, but like I said, I wrote this story a long long time ago, and have merely tweaked some things here and there.  I couldn’t let the character’s go, but I couldn’t let the story die altogether now could I?

Here it is… the conclusion to Private Dancer:  http://wp.me/PRJAl-3l

Severing Ties, Forming New Bonds…Private Dancer – Ch. 11

Severing Ties, Forming New Bonds…Private Dancer – Ch. 11 http://wp.me/PRJAl-3g

Losing Control Will Never Happen – Private Dancer – Ch. 9

Will Kasen take the bait, will he lose control and finally make Marise his?   Will Marise back out once she realizes the depth of Kasen’s feelings for her.  

We all have morals, but do we always follow them?   Chapter 9 of Private Dancer – http://wp.me/PRJAl-35