Nervous

Nervous

4.6 336
by Zane
     
 

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Zane's legion of fans can't get enough of her way of telling a juicy, sexy story. Now, the New York Times bestselling queen of erotica brings us a tale of a woman with a split personality -- one highly sexed and one sexually repressed.

Jonquinette Pierce has always been nervous when it comes to men. She took a job dealing with mostly women so she could

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Overview

Zane's legion of fans can't get enough of her way of telling a juicy, sexy story. Now, the New York Times bestselling queen of erotica brings us a tale of a woman with a split personality -- one highly sexed and one sexually repressed.

Jonquinette Pierce has always been nervous when it comes to men. She took a job dealing with mostly women so she could avoid men. She goes to work and comes straight home during the week, but on the weekends her other self, Jude, takes over and goes on intense sexual escapades.

Jonquinette recognizes that her alter ego is a problem and seeks to resolve it with the help of Dr. Marcella Spencer, the psychiatrist Zane originated in her bestselling novel Addicted. Jude's response is to get angry and go on a sexual rampage. In the meantime, Jonquinette becomes interested in her new neighbor, Mason, after having a conversation with him at a mutual friend's wedding. Jude has no intention of letting Jonquinette fall in love and find happiness at her expense. Jude is having way too much fun using the body she shares with Jonquinette. This "two faces of Eve" scenario is a fun fantasy for women who have imagined their own alter ego behaving badly in a sexual way. But for the leading lady of Nervous, this is a nightmare. Based on a short story of the same title from her bestselling collection, The Sex Chronicles, Nervous is classic Zane with an edge. So, relax, sit back. You're in for a nerve-tingling read.

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Product Details

ISBN-13:
9780743476232
Publisher:
Atria Books
Publication date:
09/02/2003
Pages:
304
Product dimensions:
6.12(w) x 9.25(h) x 1.06(d)

Meet the Author

Zane is the New York Times bestselling author of Afterburn, The Heat Seekers, Dear G-Spot, Getting’ Buck Wild, The Hot Box, Total Eclipse of the Heart, Nervous, Skyscraper, Love is Never Painless, Shame on It All, and The Sisters of APF; the ebook short stories I’ll be Home for Christmas and Everything Fades Away; and editor for the Flava anthology series, including Z-Rated and Busy Bodies. Her TV series, Zane’s Sex Chronicles, and The Jump Off are featured on Cinemax, and her bestselling novel Addicted has been adapted for a major motion picture with Lionsgate Films. She is the publisher of Strebor Books, an imprint of Atria Books/Simon & Schuster, and lives in the Washington, DC, area with her family. Visit her online at EroticaNoir.com.

Read an Excerpt

from The Heat Seekers

"Whew, we finally get a chance to sit down and chat for a few!" Geren exclaimed, throwing his left leg over the bench of one of the picnic tables in Janessa's grandmother's backyard.

Tempest giggled as she sat down beside him. "Yeah, I know." She looked around the yard at the various people doing everything from frying up croakers in the black pots over an open flame to tossing horseshoes to playing spades. "Marquita and Curtis are talking about having a water-balloon fight, but I'm not even down with that."

"Water-balloon fight?" Geren asked with disbelief.

Tempest nodded her head after taking a sip of her grape Kool-Aid. "Yup! You have to admit it fits right in with the rest of today's festivities."

Geren sighed heavily and took a swig of his Miller Lite. "I guess."

Tempest swatted a sugar-hunting fly away from her cup. "So how did you like the wedding? Honestly?"

Geren lowered his eyes to the table trying to think of something appropriate to say. "It was...was...was -- "

"Yes?"

"Let's just say it was different," he finally uttered.

Tempest laughed. "You're being kind. This whole day has been like a bad B movie."

Geren started laughing with her.

"My favorite part," Tempest continued through her cackles, "was when Curtis had to climb up on the step stool to kiss the bride."

Geren started laughing so hard then that he had to hold his stomach. "That was wild, but the really off-the-hook part was when people threw black-eyed peas at them when they left the church."

Tempest gave him a light slap on the arm. "Ha, ha! How about the hoopty they rolled out in?"

"Aw man, who could forget the yellow Charger with empty beer cans tied to the bumper."

"Did you notice that the t was left out of 'Just Married' on the trunk?" Tempest asked through tear-drenched eyes.

"Naw, I missed that one," Geren replied, trying to bring his amusement under control. He felt bad making fun of people, especially on their wedding day. But in that situation, it really couldn't be helped. "What I want to know is how brotha man can even drive a car as short as he is. I bet Gary Coleman and Webster both have at least a foot on him."

"Ooooooohhh, you so crazy!"

Tempest reached for an empty paper plate farther down on the table and started trying to pulverize the fly that was continuing to get on her nerves.

"I know how he drives it, though," she added. "I got nosy last night at the rehearsal and peeked inside."

"And?" Geren asked anxiously. For the life of him, he thought it was not humanly possible for a person that short to operate an automobile.

"He has these extension pedals for the gas and brake, and he sits on top of two Power Rangers pillows so he can see over the dash," Tempest answered, trying to keep a straight face.

"Damnnnnnnn!"

"I know. That's deep, isn't it?"

"Deep and then some. I have seen it..."

"Excuse me. I don't mean to interrupt you, but can I ask you a question?"

Geren and Tempest both looked around to see who said this. They even looked under the table, and then Tempest finally noticed some pudgy short legs standing at the north end. She leaned over so she could look over the tabletop and spotted the best man, Raoul.

"Who, me?" Tempest asked, not wanting to be bothered. She was trying to get to know Geren with his fine ass.

"Yes, you," Raoul replied snidely.

Tempest smirked at him. She was well aware of his reputation and thought it was ridiculous. "I'm not in the market for a well-endowed midget, if that's what you want."

"Very funny!" Raoul hissed back at her. "I would never discuss business today. My boy just tied the knot. What type of man do you think I am?"

"Hmph, I take you to be about half of a man, from where I'm sitting."

Raoul shook his stubby finger up at her. "See, I knew it!"

"Knew what?" Geren asked, finally coming out of his shock-induced trance. All of these midgets were tripping him out, but the well-endowed comment threw him for a loop.

"I knew she was related to those triflin' Whitfields as soon as I saw her standing in for Marquita last night at the rehearsal!" Raoul replied, crossing his arms in front of him and rolling his eyes.

"My last name is not Whitfield," Tempest stated with obvious disdain. "In fact, I don't even know any Whitfields."

"Hmmmmmmm, I don't blame you for lying about it. I wouldn't admit to being kin to that nasty, ill-bred covenant of witches turned bitches either."

Geren fell out laughing, but Tempest failed to see the humor. "I have no idea what you're talking about but would you mind if I talked with my date?" She waited patiently for a few seconds for Raoul to waddle away. When he didn't budge, she added, "Alone!"

"Fine, just be like that," Raoul said, on the verge of throwing a hissy fit. "I need to get going soon anyway. I'm handling the night shift at my motel."

"You have a motel, too?" Tempest asked.

"Yeah, it's right across the street from my midget breeding farm and next door to my burger joint."

"You have a business card, little man?" Geren inquired, halfway impressed by Raoul. "I like your entrepreneurial spirit."

"I'm not a little man." Raoul placed his left hand over his chest. "I have a big heart, among other things, and that's what counts." He reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out a business card, handing it to Geren.

"Thanks!"

"No problemo. Come by one weekend and give a brotha some business. If you bring your woman here with you, I'll let ya'll have ten percent off our Oompa Loompa Deluxe Honeymoon Suite."

Tempest and Geren both started guffawing. Then Tempest's smile turned to a frown. "I don't know how to tell you this Raoul, but that French poodle over there has been eyeing you like she's hungry for the past few minutes."

Raoul swung his half-neck around and spotted the white predator standing by a tree. "Shit! I'm 'bout to go!" He pulled the collar of his tuxedo up around his half-neck as if that would protect his Adam's apple in case of an attack. "Nice meeting you, ummmmmmm -- "

"Tempest."

"Geren."

"Tempest and Geren. Unique names. You make a cute couple, too."

"Thanks," Geren said, noticing that Tempest was blushing.

"Catch you later," Raoul said, waving as he walked off.

"Peace," Tempest shouted out after him. "I hope he makes it to his remote control car before that poodle makes him the catch of the day."

Geren gawked at her. "Did you say remote control?"

Tempest flung her hand at him and held up her palm. "Pleassssssse don't ask!"

Geren chuckled but didn't press any further. He had witnessed enough unbelievable stuff for one day.

"Where did Janessa and Dvontè run off to?" Tempest inquired, realizing she hadn't seen hide nor hair of them for about an hour.

"They're probably out in my car, chillin' and waiting on us. Dvontè got sick and tired of dodging all the women."

Tempest smacked her lips. "I thought he relished being the object of affection?"

"Normally he does, but not today." Geren held his hands up over his face, trying to hide the smile on his face. "These sistahs are out there. One woman flashed her sagging breasts at him in the parking lot at the church."

"Reallllllly?"

"Absolutely!" Geren had a quick flashback of the woman's breasts. They were touching her belly button, and it almost made him hurl.

"What about you?" Tempest raised her eyebrow. "No woman exposed herself to you?"

Geren put his hands back down and reached over to rub his thumb across Tempest's right cheek. "Not yet, but the night is still young. Anything's possible."

Tempest pulled back from him. She was nervous as hell. She started looking around the yard in an effort to divert her eyes away from Geren's stare. "Well, it looks like the party is dying down. Why don't we extend our well wishes to the bride and groom and go find Janessa and Dvontè?"

"Sounds like a winner."

"Lawd knows I'm ready to take this dress off and toss it in the trash compactor."

Geren laughed. He couldn't believe Tempest was still trippin' off the dress. "You really do look nice, Tempest. I mean that."

"Why, thank you, Mr. Kincaid," Tempest replied, finally looking back at him. Damn, he was fine! "You're rather dapper yourself."

She was getting up from the table when she heard a boom box start blaring from the back porch. She looked that way and noticed a bunch of drunk people, spread out in two lines. "Flashlight" by Parliament Funkadelic was cranking from the speakers.

"Oh, no, a Soul Train line!" Tempest exclaimed.

"I haven't seen one of those in years," Geren said, getting up from the table and standing behind her.

Tempest swung around and looked at him excitedly, like she'd just won the Powerball. "Come on, let's go down the line!"

Geren took a long look at the couple presently going down the line. The man was doing the Freeze, and the woman was doing the Happy Feet. "You can't be serious?"

"Just one time," Tempest responded, pulling him toward the porch by the elbow. "Pleassssssse!!!!! You need to loosen up a little."

Geren let out a heavy sigh. "Okay, okay," he said, giving in. "If it means that much to you, but don't expect me to do the Robot, the Moonwalk or jumping splits."

Tempest giggled. "I'm going to do the jumping splits!"

Copyright © 2002 by Zane

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