Coloring Outside the Lines (with a New Release)


Why did you do this to me? 

I’m an extremely dominant woman and usually can’t be told what to do, unless it is in role-play, but unless you are my mate, don’t even think about it.  So, what I concluded is that I have a very hard time hearing ‘you belong to this box’.  I belong in no-one’s box.    So I did not write a non-interracial book to irritate fans or to do anything but the obvious: to avoid being pigeon-holed.    I could have come up with another pseudonym but I  already have enough muses talking to me, I really don’t need another ‘voice’ coming at me with ideas.  So I wrote a non-IR work for no other purpose but to flex my literary muscle.

Love is colorless 

It doesn’t matter what color of skin you live in, all that matters is that love conquers all things.  Now, could I take some flack for not being a certain color and writing about a heroine in that color? Yep, but I’m not hearing you.  Love is colorless and no matter your pigment, you know distress, you know romance and you know emotions.  Emotions are not based upon how much melanin is in your skin or what ‘hood’ you grew up in.  As far as I know, rage is rage, hurt is hurt and love is love.

The New Release

As you can tell from the cover, this is a non-Interracial book that exceeds color lines.  LOOK AT THAT COVER!  How could you not want to write about them?  Look at that embrace, the look in their eyes.  It is sensual, seductive and erotic.  How could I not craft a story for this wonderful couple?

Initate and Ignite
Initate and Ignite

So now that you know somewhat why I wrote this  touching and endearing story of a PTSD suffering Marine and a touch therapist, how about an excerpt to entice you?

Blurb – Massage therapist Celine Beauregard came across all types of people in her line of work; those who were nice, and those who could be classified as the scum of the earth. Then there was Gunnery Sergeant Xerxes Talmay, a war-weary vet with a case of post-traumatic stress disorder. Something always ached in Celine when she set eyes on the tall handsome Marine, and her job was to help. The soldier needed different therapy, and Celine decided it was time to initiate the man to the true power of touch.

EXCERPT

Perhaps it was her mind playing tricks on her. She’d like to think she’d always kept the relationship between her and Xerxes one hundred percent professional, but in his arms now, she questioned why she always made him the last appointment of her day. Maybe it was because she wanted his face to be the last face she saw before she settled in for the evening.

“I’ve never tried to dance with a client before, Xerxes. This isn’t typical.” Celine felt like she needed to defend what she was doing in his arms, as if there was some sort of code of conduct she signed. The only code she was going by was her own personal morals, and she didn’t want to feel like she was taking advantage of someone.

“I wouldn’t think it was typical for you, and if I had any inkling that it was, you wouldn’t have seen me after the first session. I’m a Marine, Celine. I’m trained to spot inconsistencies.”

“Then you and I are a lot alike. I’m trained to spot them as well. Care to tell me what you think your anchor is, since I’ve been trying to figure it out,” Celine said. She didn’t expect him to twirl her around and dip her in a move that could have been in a Fred Astaire movie. When he pulled her into his embrace, and wrapped his arms around her, her body involuntarily shuddered with delight.

“My guess is that my anchor,” Xerxes said as he looked her up and down, “is you.” His gaze strayed to her lips again. She knew he was going to kiss her even before he licked his lips. It was the look in his eyes, and she wasn’t going to stop him. Her eyes fluttered closed even as he took his time leaning down to her lips.

The kiss was as soft as a whisper, at first, dancing across her lips, leaving the memory of his mouth on hers. Working with Xerxes over the past months, she’d always kept her distance, letting him find his own pace with their sessions. Now, in his arms, she realized the months of touching him, trying to soothe him, she’d formed an attraction to him that went beyond his mere physical appearance.

He raised his head from the kiss, his deep brown eyes burrowing into hers, making her feel hot, desired, wanton and scared shitless all at the same time. She met his gaze unwaveringly, and tried to read his expression. It was lust for sure. She’d seen that plenty times before. However, Xerxes lustful look contained just enough longing to make her womanhood clench.

“Will you be my anchor?” He asked as his lips descended on hers again, this time, the light kisses were gone. His tongue plundered her mouth as if he was on a mission to capture every single one of her breaths and inhale it as his own. Over her mouth, his tongue raked against her lips, his teeth nipping the corners, his hands roaming over her bare back. Every motion whipped up a frenzy of lust that made her feel faint. He broke the kiss, and she had to take in big gulps of air.

“Anchor me, Celine. Be the calm in the midst of the noise.”

If you want more, click the cover and head on over to Beautiful Trouble Publishing to get your copy. 

Until we meet again, love is limitless, color outside the lines and break free from stereotypes.  

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99 Cents at ARe! Prima Materia by Nevea Lane


Prima Materia by Nevea Lane
Prima Materia by Nevea Lane

 

 

Fatima had an immense amount of time to think being over three hundred years old. When she wasn’t administering her own version of justice, preternatural style, she was thinking of only one other being: Pero Franco, her sire and her lover. Although she’d hadn’t lain sight on him in over two hundred years, her love for him still ruled over everything. Pero’s disappearing act turned her into the cold vampyre she was, and only Pero could save her from her loneliness. A part of her wanted to tear him limb from limb, and the other wanted to caress every inch of his skin. Can Fatima find peace once she comes face to face of the one that created her and abandoned her?

New Release! Get Ready To Chase Nickels…


 

Chasing Nickels Around Dollar Signs

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Are you ready for a little treat?  This inexpensive little treat will definitely get you revved and ready.  Are you ready for a little heat to start your summer off just right?

I know, enough with the questions right? (See what I did there *smirk*) The tax season is finally over and we all get a little punch drunk and woozy during those times.  Let’s face it,  working into all hours of the night, your mind tends to run away with you.  You never know what may happen once your brain is fogged.

Take Sasha Nickels for example.  She works hard and well…take a peek ~

The April tax deadline is fast approaching for Sasha Nickels, and the last thing she needs is an unannounced visit from her questionable client Cesar Parisi and his associate Sonny Amato.  Cesar and Sonny are two men who won’t take no for an answer. Obedience is expected.

When they show up unannounced on the busiest tax day of the year, she wants give them both a good piece of her mind.  However, Cesar and Sonny make it known they’ll take a piece of her mind, but they want her body as well…

Excerpt:

It was difficult to stand in their menacing presence one at a time, let alone both of them at the same time.  They both stood well over six feet, but Sonny had the advantage by an inch.   The stare down couldn’t last all night.  She moved to the side and pushed her hair behind her ears.  Keep it quick and simple, stick to the points, and don’t think about touching their hair.    Touching their hair was always on her mind, as Sonny’s hair was jet black and Mr. Parisi’s hair was a tussle of blonds and browns.  For the two years of their working relationship, she was more often tempted to touch their hair than their money. Clearing her throat, she motioned to the leather chairs in front of the desk.  She watched as they sat and noticed there wasn’t a briefcase between them.  What the hell is going on?

“So to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence, Mr. Parisi?”
Sasha walked to her desk, sat down, and folded her arms in front of her.
“Come on, Sasha.”  His voice dipped, and her name sounded like a melodic seduction rather than a greeting.  “You’ve known me for years now. Can’t you bring yourself to call me Cesar?”

Not if I want to keep myself from sitting in your lap as if you’re Santa.
“Mr. Parisi, I’m a busy woman.”

“And Mr. Parisi is a busy man.”  Sonny’s voice was as gruff as always.  She cut her gaze to him. Like she didn’t know that.
“Since we are both so busy, why don’t we skip this verbal sparring and get to the point of why you’re here?”   She’d directed her question at Sonny, but it was Cesar who answered.

“You’re amazing.”
That wasn’t what she’d expected.
“Excuse me?”
“You said to drop the verbal sparring and that is exactly what I’m doing.  Sasha, mia cara, you’ve done an amazing job for me for the last few years, and I wanted to show you that I’m more than grateful.”

“Send me a bottle of Chianti and a box of chocolates and we’ll call it even.”  She waved him off with a flick of her wrist and picked up her pencil with the other hand.  Sasha didn’t have time for this. She needed to review returns and try to get at least three hours of sleep tonight.

“You are worth far more than a box of chocolates and some wine,” Sonny said. For once, he didn’t sound ticked off.

She turned to look at him.  In her line of work, as frigid as it may seem, she wasn’t surprised by much.  In her life, being the only child, growing up dirt poor and having barely enough to eat, she could match attitude for attitude, but this bad cop, good cop or whatever these two were doing was unraveling her carefully constructed wall of self-preservation.

“Your eyes are sparking.  Does that mean you are interested, mia cara?”  Sonny’s voice was definitely lethal, and he was using it to his full advantage.  She’d never bothered to wonder if her eyes sparked or not because they were hidden behind her glasses most of the time.   Sasha stared at him a long time before she spoke.
“Interested in what, Sonny?  You haven’t proposed anything for me to be interested in.”

“A proposal would be a bit premature. How about one night together first? We’ll get around to wedding plans later.”

End Excerpt

Want to know how Sasha responds?   Pick it up: Available at the Beautiful Trouble Publishing website ONLY:

http://beautifultroublepublishing.com/genres/new-releases-home-page/chasing-nickels-around-dollar-signs-ebook.html

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NEW RELEASE – Silver Bells and Straps by Nevea Lane


Silver Bells and Straps by Nevea Lane CLICK TO BUY!

Yes, I did it. My first light BDSM tale.   I fear I haven’t been completely honest with you all.  I like kink. I’m not sure if that was a confession or just a ‘just so you know’ announcement.   Shara Azod LLC knows a little something about kink.  I’m pleased to throw my name into their marvelous Whipped Dreams line.    For those of you who know the imprints works, you know that Whipped Dreams center around BDSM or D/s story lines.   I took it one step further.  This time, the heroine is the Domme.

Below is the blurb and a spicy little excerpt to get you wondering.  Click the link, buy the tale, and warm up your holiday season with a bit a sugar, spice and and a whole lot of kink.

BLURB

Athena Divan had it good; her own company, a premium New York apartment and a secret.   Gerard Bourdain was much the same; his own company, a premium New York apartment, a restless spirit and a secret.  These two had butted heads in the board room, but they were about to find they had a lot more in common when their secrets collide at the Black Tie bondage club.

The only thing is, Athena was Mistress Minerva. She knew who he was, but Gerard was in the dark about her secret identity.   Would she take the opportunity to have a bit of revenge at Gerard’s expense?  Of course.  Yet, could she keep herself in check and not step over the line and jeopardize her identity?
*EXCERPT*

As he stood on the other side of the door, he took a deep breath. This
mistress was supposed to be the best, as the owner kept telling him. A second generation dominatrix. He’d never heard of such a thing. Pushing the heavy
door open, he stepped into the room.
His stomach immediately tightened when his eyes focused on the woman
perched on the throne. She looked like a deity, her shoulders back and her long
legs crossed in a striking pose. Her mouth was pursed, and her burgundy
lipstick looked like a fine wine staining her lips. The black masquerade mask
did little to hide her features. Her high cheekbones stood out in the dim
lighting, but her eyes were the most striking almond color he’d ever seen.
He swallowed hard. She raised her arm and, in a regal movement, turned
her palm upward and curled her fingers forward, beckoning him to her. He
dropped his head and took slow steps toward her. He stopped a mere foot away
from his appointed mistress. For the first time, he was intimidated by a woman.
His mother didn’t intimidate him, and she threw her weight around better than
any man he’d met.
“Well, well, well,” his mistress said in a husky, breathless tone. She
uncrossed her legs and stood. Her heels didn’t make a sound as she walked
toward him across the carpeted floor.
Without pausing, she began to walk around him, looking him up and
down. He didn’t dare move his head to follow her movements, knowing that
would bring him punishment. The leather of her glove felt cool as she laid the
palm of her hand against the small of his back. The simple touch made his cock
stir.
“Mmmm. There is nothing I like more than fresh meat.” She smacked his
ass with an echoing slap that stung his flesh even through the leather pants.
Her palm cupped his ass in a soothing motion, and she began to rub his
stinging cheek as if to soothe the sting. The smell of her hung in the air, and it
was all he could think about as he tried to force himself to breathe in through
his nose and out through his mouth.
“What is your name, slave?”

*End Excerpt* 

Well there you have it, what do you think?

 

New Release – Java Rain by Nevea Lane


That is right,  its  my turn in the 31 Days of Steamy Mocha going on at Mocha Memoirs Press.   The little heater will make you love coffee and rain.  It would be a wise dollar invested…and less money than a large coffee. 

Blurb: In the rolling valley of Papua New Guinea, Ansley, a coffee bean farmer has his sight set on Kalia, the American bean buyer whom he’s known for years. The skies open and rain falls, but Ansley wants Kalia to open for him and to admit the one thing that he already knows, she was meant to be his.

http://www.mochamemoirspress.blogspot.com/2012/07/31-days-of-steamy-mocha-nevea-lanes.html

Buy Now!
Quick and Hot, like a shot of espresso.

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.  

Java Rain by Nevea Lane

New Holiday Hotness – Eight Ball Side Pocket by Nevea Lane


From Shara Azod and Marteeka Karland

Need a little pick me up after shopping, wrapping and decorating?  Take a little bite to make your Season bright!

Brand New Quel Scandale Shorts~

Little Bites With a Touch of Spice!!!

What’s your fantasy? We all have them, even women. Quel Scandale is a woman’s answer to Penthouse ~ hot, steamy fantasy naughty enough for a man, but made for a woman. Perfect for a quick me up in the middle of the day or a bed time read guaranteed to give you delicious dreams.

On Set by Billy London

On Set by Billy London $0.99

Sean McNeil is about to take on the role of a lifetime. Getting film critic and blogger Melanie Beckford to play his lover on screen. Without the acting part.

 Eight  Ball Side Pocket

Eight Ball Side Pocket by Nevea Lane $0.99

One bet, winner takes all.  What’s a woman to do when she is challenged to a game of pool and the stakes are high? Play to win, of course.

My, My, My by Serenity King

My, My, My by Serenity King $0.99

As far as fantasies went Sherida Tomlin was getting ready to live out every one of hers. The moment Harrison Whitney walked into her office she’d known that he’d been the star of every erotic dream she’d ever had. And when he touched her…let’s just say that the real thing is even better than any fantasy could ever be.

And Brand Spanking New~

Force Me

Some women don’t want a sweet, gentle lover. Some women like to saunter up to a man and whisper in his ear, “Force me.”

 Force Me - Asking For it Marteeka Karland and Shara Azod

Asking For It by Marteeka Karland & Shara Azod $0.99

If she switched her ass in front of him one more time, Micaiah swore he was going to bend her over and spank hers. Seriously… Little Miss Trina was asking for it.

 Death by Sex by Marteeka Karland and Shara Azod

Death by Sex by Marteeka Karland & Shara Azod $0.99

“You’re about to die,” the deep gravelly voice rumbled next to her ear. “But don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”  The words were chilling to Mia, but not nearly as good as what happened next.

 The Alley - Marteeka Karland and Shara Azod

The Alley by Marteeka Karland & Shara Azod $0.99

Alana gets a taste of the forbidden in the alley. She should be repulsed, frightened even. Instead, all she feels is… unbearable pleasure.

The Princess by Marteeka Karland and Shara Azod

The Princess by Marteeka Karland & Shara Azod $0.99

Princess Mia has a problem. A BIG one. In the form of one very muscular, very Alpha Barbarian King.

Not Hot Enough For You – New Books Available from Nevea Lane, Marteeka Karland and Shara Azod


Take a trip into the back seat for a spicy lunch or midnight snack to get you all hot under the collar!!
Click the Pic to Purchase!


Zoe was content with her life as the king’s gardener. She had a home and the finest garden in the galaxy. What more could a girl want?

Well, there was the king’s son, Prince Abbas. He was Zoe’s greatest wet dream come true. For five years, she’d fantasized about him from afar, but never dared to approach him. Besides, he was too… royal for her liking.

When the king arranges a marriage for Abbas, Zoe’s life is changed forever. Will she be content to forever lust after the prince, or will she grab what she wants and take it?

Or will he make that decision for her…

Paxton Wainwright never planned on coming home to Essex, Connecticut, especially after fifteen years of being free of the title of the `mayor’s son’. The small town held nothing but dark memories and an unrequited need for one female, Delilah Gibbs.

Imagine his surprise when he returned home to see none other than Delilah in his father’s bedroom, acting as his physical therapist.   Paxton still felt the same flash of need as he did all those years ago.

The question is, can he make Delilah feel it too?

Skylar Moore had been looking for a new, exciting job. Taking a position as a civilian contractor in the middle of a war zone was probably a tad extreme, but it was the best decision she had ever made. 


How could she complain when she had not one, but two of the sexiest body guards/escorts on the face of the earth. Majors Ashe Marshall and Shannon O’Shea were the finest damn Marines in the entire Corps. It was hard to pretend she wasn’t interested in more than an escort to local Afghan villages. The problem was which one did she like the most? There was no way she could choose.

Luckily she didn’t have to…

Disturbing the Yuletide – Available now at Beautiful Trouble Publishing


Disturbing the Yuletide [EBOOK]

 

Disturbing the Yuletide
Click the Link to Purchase
Topaz Aura Sinclair, aka DJ Bluefire, has been feeling a little lonely this holiday season—the first one she’s spending without her family. She’s even taken on extra gigs just to stay active during the season. At one of her assignments, she meets Sebastian Rosser, an ex-military officer turned caterer. Sparks fly immediately… But when one of Topaz’s gigs turns dangerous, will she and Sebastian find a way to keep their holiday bright? 


**EXCERPT**

Topaz laughed and looked at Sebastian. She finally took the moment to really study the man who was before her. He looked delicious and dark in his black slacks and turtleneck. His toned arms seemed about to split the shirt at the seams. The deep green of his eyes gave him a dangerous air and made Topaz shudder. Then she remembered the way he’d gotten her out of the brawling fiasco at the Den. 

“What did you do before you became a chef, Sebastian?” He couldn’t possibly have been just a caterer all his life, not with those moves.

“I was in the British Army. I enlisted young, and applied for my discharge about three years ago.”

“I kinda figured you were military. You’re too sharp.” 

Sebastian lifted his eyebrow at her. She giggled and took another sip.

“What I mean is that you were cool under pressure. You didn’t seem to mind I was poking around in the kitchen when we met. Most caterers I know aren’t like that—they’re territorial.”
“Oh, I’m territorial, but not about food,” Sebastian countered, his tone serious.
“I see. So what brings you to the States?” Topaz knew the hour was late, but she didn’t want to let him go just yet. It was better than being in her small apartment, lonely and cold. Christmas was merely a week away, and she didn’t want to think about spending it alone. 

“Opportunity and a change of pace. Working with The Det, I spent most of my time in Northern Ireland, and London no longer seemed like home after my parents died, so the States seemed logical.”

Topaz could relate to what Sebastian was feeling. She knew what it was like to feel out of place. “The ‘Det.’ What is that?” Topaz asked.

“It’s a special recon unit. We’re plainclothes operatives, and that’s all I’m telling you,” Sebastian said, his lips playing around with the idea of a smile.
“Oh, it’s like that?” Topaz said, lifting her own eyebrow and staring at him. Sebastian gave a slight nod, and this time he actually did smile. 

Topaz gasped at the smile that transformed his face. It seemed to make the hard lines around his mouth disappear, and he looked so human. She felt a lump in her throat, and her words were lost. Sebastian Rosser was one fine man when he smiled.

* * *

Sebastian felt the sides of his face ache as he broke into a grin. He was sure he had smiled before he entered the military, but he’d never remembered it feeling so good. He was sure it was because of the company of one Topaz Sinclair.

From his days in the military, Sebastian had used his contacts to dig up important information on Topaz. Even with the little information he could find, he found that she soothed the restlessness he had been plagued with most of his life. He’d always been known as the one to take the first shot, the one to take the lead. With her, he didn’t want to jump in too fast, but he felt like he was on a roller coaster of emotions. “So tell me about you.” Sebastian said, knowing her soothing voice would calm the restlessness he was feeling again.

“What do you want to know?” Topaz asked, taking another sip of her coffee.

“Everything. Every last detail.” Sebastian didn’t mince words, but he didn’t think she would mind.
“Well, let’s see. I’m an only child. My mom and dad had me late in life, so they didn’t get the chance to have other children. They passed away earlier this year.” 

Sebastian nodded and again grabbed her hands. He was amazed at how small they seemed in his own. His thumbs circled over her palms, mindlessly tracing figure-eights on her warm skin. He looked at her long fingers, nails without polish, the simple silver thumb ring the only jewelry she wore. She was simplicity personified, and he wanted to know everything about her.

“I’m sorry. This time of year must be rough for you.” Sebastian gave his sympathy, but he couldn’t help but wonder if she would mind spending the holiday with him.

“Yeah, that’s why I took on so many extra gigs. I needed to be moving, doing something, anything.”

“So, what are your plans for the holiday then? More shows? Your calendar seemed pretty open.” 

Topaz looked at him, and Sebastian could see the scrutiny. He braced himself for the question.
“Was tonight the only night you came looking for me, Sebastian?”
“No. I think I’ve been looking for you all my life.”

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.