Zane - Nervous

Here I go again for the seventh time in three years, which in itself is a blessing. Always ever present in my life and first on my list is the Lord. He is responsible for the air that I breathe and my health, my creativity, and my determination.

Next on my list is my parents, for their continuous support and encouragement, I could never express enough gratitude or pay them back properly for all they have given me. However, I intend to try.

Hubby, what can I say except thanks for loving me, cheering me up when I am down, understanding me when I start flipping out (often in the middle of the night), staying up with the baby late at night so I can either sleep or write or a combination of both, being versatile enough to change a diaper one second and handle a major business decision the next. You might not be a superhero but you are definitely a superman.

To my offspring, Mommy loves you and as you know, when it comes to motherhood, nothing else comes first. Even if that means making the sacrifice of staying up all night working so I can spend quality time with you during the day.

To my family members: Miss Bettye, Carlita, Charmaine, Rick, David, Aunt Rose, Aunt Margaret, Aunt Neet, Miss Maurice and Uncle Snook, Uncle George and Miss Mary, Joyce and Ed and all those I am close to, thanks for the support and love.

To my friends: Pamela Crockett, Esq., Destiny Wood, Lisa Fox, Karen Black, Janet Allen, Sharon Johnson, Dee Mc-Conneaughy, Denise Barrow, Tracy Crockett, Pamela Shannon, MD, Cornelia Williams, and all the rest of you hoochie mommas (just kidding), thanks for all the late night phone conversations, the encouragement, the babysitting, and just having my back in general.

To the special kids in my life: Arianna, Ashley, Jazmin, Adam, Jerlan, Tislem, Indira, Briana, Karlin, Brian, Jr., and Nicholas, remember to stay in school and get a good education because it will all pay off in the end.

To my agent, Sara Camilli, thanks for all the pep talks and more importantly your patience in dealing with such a drama queen (inside joke) as a client.

To Malaika Adero, my editor, Carlos Brown, my publicist, Judith Curr, Carolyn Reidy, Demond Jarrett, Louise Burke, Brigitte Smith, Dennis Eulau, Karen Mender, and the rest of the ATRIA/Simon & Schuster crew, thanks for everything and I look forward to a prosperous and long-lasting future.

Thanks to the Strebor Books International staff, the Strebor authors, and all the other authors, booksellers, distributors, book clubs, and everyone else who has supported me throughout my brief but exciting writing career. I guarantee you that the best is yet to come.

I am not going to go on and on since I have books coming out every three months or so (smile). Just know that I love and appreciate everyone.

Peace and Blessings,

Zane

I wanted to pen Nervous for several reasons. I have always been intrigued by the short story I first wrote by the same name for The Sex Chronicles: Shattering the Myth. The complexity of the character drew me to her and so many readers felt a connection with the one known only as SHE. Many women have two sides to them: the good girl and the bad girl. Most of the time they try to hide the bad girl, not realizing how short life truly is and how at the end of it, there is nothing we can do about regrets and missed opportunities.

I thought about what was the wildest thing that could ever possibly happen to a woman and thus, Jonquinette Pierce was created. A woman that, in her mind, is a virgin, but she suffers with a split personality disorder. The other woman in her is a whore. The contrast between the two was a delight to write. I also love my character. Nervous is the second in a planned five-book series that features the psychiatrist, Dr. Marcella Spencer. Addicted was the first. After Nervous, Vengeance, Torn, and Patience will come. Dr. Spencer will become the main character in one, but I wont reveal which one just yet. You will have to wait and see.

I hope you enjoy reading Nervous as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Peace, Blessings, and Love,

Zane

For as long as I could remember, I had always been nervous. Nervous about school. Nervous about friends. Nervous about relationships with men. Even nervous about talking to my own mother. I dont know whether it was something deep-rooted inside of me from an early childhood experience or whether it was something that was just meant to be.

I lived in my own little world by the time I was twenty-two years old. I was fresh out of college and working as a project coordinator for a nonprofit organization in Philadelphia. I selected that job because I wouldnt have to deal with too many people on a daily basis. I only had face-to-face dealings with a few of the people from the office, mostly women, and I was very thankful for that. My daily routine consisted of going to work, stopping off at a carry-out on the way home to pick up dinner, and then retiring to my cozy but cramped one bedroom apartment for the rest of the night.

When it came to dealing with a man on an intellectual level, any man, my palms would get sweaty and my knees would tremble a little. I am not sure how noticeable it was to anybody else, but I was painfully aware of it.

I had managed to make it all the way through my high school and college years without a single boyfriend. But I was not a virgin by far. The weekends were her time. They were the times that SHE came out into the light. SHE was my wild side, the one who craved to be fucked. SHE was one who felt conversation was never needed, nor were games, because SHE knew within five minutes after SHE laid eyes on a man whether SHE wanted to fuck him or not.

SHE first appeared back in my freshman year of college. At that time, I would spend lonely nights in my dorm room masturbating myself to sleep by playing with my nipples and rubbing a sheet or towel between my legs. I imagined having wild, passionate sex with men that had no faces until I climaxed and the sheet or towel was soaking wet with my nectar.

I have always been a pretty girl, above average even, I would say. It was never a question of whether I thought I looked good enough to get a man. I was just too nervous to talk to the men who pursued me. They came in all shapes and sizes and from all walks of life. Most were extremely nice and attractive, but I wanted to wait and give my virginity to the man I would ultimately marry. SHE, though, could not wait.

One cold winter night of my freshman year, I was studying in the university library when SHE saw him. He was average height, about five-nine and not what one would call foine, yet attractive. It was his eyes that made him desirable. His eyes seemed to have a passion burning inside of them. SHE sat there, at a table across the room from where he was standing at a bookcase flipping through some pages. SHE could feel her panties becoming damp from the growing desire to feel him inside of her. SHE crossed her legs and moved them back and forth, creating a light friction against her vagina and making her desire even more intense. SHE didnt realize that SHE was simultaneously sucking on the eraser of her pencil and staring at him, until SHE felt him staring back. SHE moved her eyes up from where they had locked on the bulge of his pants to his face and for what seemed like an endless moment, their eyes met. He broke the stare and smiled at her. It was then that SHE noticed he had the softest-looking lips. SHE yearned to draw the bottom one into her mouth and suck on it.