Hi lovely followers! We're getting close to the launch of the first ever Nevermore Bookshop special edition paperbacks. I'm so excited to show you all the details of these linocut, punk AF beauties. Have you seen the launch party page? It has some sneaky peeks :)
We are planning to crowdfund for the full set of 11 Nevermore books in a slipcase (OMG the plans we have for this slipcase will MELT YOUR FACE). The full campaign will happen in the second half of next year. In this campaign, we're enabling the Nevermore bookshop fans to get the first books, which will easily slide into the slipcase when you complete the set next year.
(The reason it's split up is boring and has to do with printing logistics, the artists' schedules, and Steff's sanity).
SO, what I want to know, is given how strapped everyone is this year with all of *gestures at world*, would you rather get five books now and five books next year if you want to complete your set, or would you prefer to only do three books now and seven next year? This poll WILL decide if we chop the campaign down to three books – all of the merch and extra goodies we have planned will stay the same.
It's time to vote on the vellum overlay artwork for Wicked Deeds on a Winter's Night! Which scene with Bowen and Mariketa do you want to bring to life?
Our artist, @skaiwitch, has provided a loose sketch for each of the three scene options. This is a glimpse behind-the-scenes into how the art comes together. The earliest sketches can be a little hard to envision what the final will look like, so as an example of other art we've made with skaiwitch, here's how the first sketch looked along with the finished product! This example art is not from this book!
Before and After
Your scene options from Wicked Deeds on a Winter's Night:
Scene 1: Bowen's first kiss in 200 years (in a tomb because VIBES).
The witch seethed with power. Spells and magicks swirled about her. Bowen could sense them, could perceive them tangling around him, binding him to her—because she was beckoning him to kiss her. . . .
No, he couldn’t get distracted from his aim! He wouldn’t. So much was at stake with this competition. His past, his future. He knew what he was fighting for—so why couldn’t he drag his eyes away from the witch’s face?
As she gazed up at him, her features seemed to shift. Her irises briefly flickered from an ordinary blue to a stormy, intense gray. She licked her lips, and right before him they turned from pink to the deepest, most enticing red. His shaft throbbed harder, straining against his pants.
Yes, he had to taste her. To walk away without knowing what those glistening lips promised . . . ? Impossible. Not after beholding the body she’d concealed beneath her cloak. She was lush, surprisingly curvy with high, plump breasts.
And in that tunnel, when she’d crawled in front of him, the allure of her generous hips and arse had been as strong as a siren’s call. He’d have followed her for miles, hard as rock, heart thundering in anticipation.
Then to be wedged against her in that position? Hell, he’d just stopped himself from thrusting uncontrollably against her arse—
“Bowen . . .” she whispered, an edge of need in her voice. The witch wanted; he was helpless not to give.
His first kiss in nearly two centuries.
Pulling her closer with his hand at her nape, he leaned down and took her mouth with his. The merest contact rocked him. From the first touch, he felt how giving her lips were, parting in welcome. She gave a cry against him, and her palms traced up his chest to rest at his neck, her fingers twining in his hair.
He slipped his tongue into her mouth, and she met it with her own, with slow, wicked laps that made him inhale sharply to groan against her. His free hand grasped her waist to hold her as he deepened the kiss. She moaned her approval, going soft against him.
She was the one enthralling him, so why did she seem out of her head with desire? She seemed . . . lost for him.
Scene 2: Getting frisky in a cave after saving her
The need to kiss her suddenly became critical.
“Oh, not again!” She tried to wriggle out from under him, which only made his erection grow harder. When her lips parted on a breath, he knew she’d felt it pulse against her.
“I’ll put you across the cave, MacRieve.”
In a flash, he pinned her wrists behind her back. “I doona believeyou can, no’ with your hands like this.” He eased to his side and used his free hand to slowly unbutton the shirt.
“What do you think you’re do—” She broke off with a little moan when he raised his knee and pressed his thigh between hers, languidly moving it against her sex.
With an openmouthed kiss on her collarbone, he pulled the shirt open, one side and then the other. But he fumbled at unclasping her transparent bra from the front. This was partly because he had no experience with modern female undergarments, but also because he couldn’t stop staring as her nipples budded right before his eyes, jutting against the gauzy material.
He finally sliced the front clasp with his claw. By the time he brushed the material over those tight peaks, she was panting, making that bared flesh rise and fall so temptingly.
She struggled again, and her breasts quivered. His voice rough, he said, “Ah, beauty, now you’re just showin’ off.”
She stilled, her face and chest flushing hotly.
Leaning down to her nipple, he said, “I’ve heard rumors about bedding witches, heard that if you can close your lips around one of these, the witch will be a slave to your hands.”
Scene 3: Lykae kissing with glowing eyes!
He was breathing hard, with that muscled chest heaving. His eyes were still light blue, and were locked on her as if she was his most coveted possession—one he’d feared losing.
MacRieve was fresh from the fight. At the assembly, she could have watched this Lykae for hours. But that night she hadn’t been able to kiss him as she’d desired, or stroke his powerful body.
Yet now . . .
Ferocity, the intensity. She’d craved it, always had—even before this uncontrollable, immortal need had begun to consume her. Want it . . . want him.
Her expression must have betrayed her hunger. His brows drew together. “Mariketa?”
Her hand shot up and cupped the back of his neck, tugging him down so she could kiss him.
Obviously shocked, he stilled for a moment. Then, with a groan, he released his clenching hold on her arms. His hands landed heavily on her ass, kneading as if he’d only been awaiting a chance to feel her like that. Against her mouth, he rasped, “Lusty witch.”
“Kiss me really hard, MacRieve, like you mean it.”
“Lusty and demanding. Gods, how you please me.” He did kiss her then, slanting his lips over hers, slipping his tongue between themto sweep it against her own. Hot . . . wet . . . hard. She could do nothing but mindlessly meet him.
His big palms on her ass rocked her up to him, forcing her against his rigid shaft.
She was in heaven.
Your vote will determine which scene we use for the vellum overlay artwork!
We'll be sharing the final art for Heart of Obsidian very soon!
It's time to start voting on the vellum overlay artwork for each book! We're beginning with Heart of Obsidian by Nalini Singh! Which scene with Kaleb Krychek and Sahara Kyriakus do you want to bring to life?
Our artist, @skaiwitch, has provided a loose sketch for each of the three scene options. This is a glimpse behind-the-scenes into how the art comes together. The earliest sketches can be a little hard to envision what the final will look like, so as an example of other art we've made with skaiwitch, here's how the first sketch looked along with the finished product! This example art is not from this book!
Before and After
Your scene options from Heart of Obsidian:
Sketch Options
First kiss at the cliff!
After climbing a cliff, Kaleb has laid Sahara down in the soft grass under the moonlight, and things escalate quickly after they kiss.
“Kaleb,” she whispered again. “I’ve missed you.”
He broke.
Gripping her wrists together as he came down over her, he pinned them above her head. “You can’t touch me.” Her fingers curled at his low-voiced order, but there was no panic, her lips soft under the hard demand of his mouth, her thighs spreading to cradle him.
Even as slender as she remained, there was no doubting her femininity. Gentle curves under his free hand, her breasts crushed against his chest, lips plump and wet. Until Sahara, he hadn’t understood why men murdered to possess a woman. Now the rage of it was a black fire in his blood, a deadly inferno that would engulf the world should anyone dare take her from him again.
This scene ends with one of our favorite lines from the book. “It will,” he said in a silken whisper, “only ever be with me.”
Telekinesis disrobing!
They get down to business, this time in a bed, and Kaleb demonstrates some of the many uses for his powers!
Her fingers clenched on the muscled heat of his back, the fine cotton of his shirt crumpling under her touch. “You came back.”
Closing his hand around her throat, he stroked gently, his mouth demanding on her own. She spread her thighs to accommodate his body, her core slick and soft. When he tugged at her cardigan, she reached down and pulled it off over her head to throw it to the floor. It left her dressed in a bra of delicate lace, her breasts straining at the cups.
Kaleb released her throat to look down at her breasts . . . and her bra straps tore in half, the center of the bra ripping to have the piece of lingerie falling off her body. It was the first time he’d used his Tk in such an intimate way, and her shocked surprise turned into pure pleasure when—still holding her gaze—he ran his fingers lightly over her nipple.
This time, his name whispered from her lips in a soft moan.
Lightning storm HEA!
Look, there's rain and lightning and professions of love--and it's perfect.
Both arms under her body, his hands curved over her shoulders as he held her in place for deep, hard thrusts that made her intimate muscles clench in sheer pleasure, he paused, his hair dark against his forehead, his eyes holding the colors of twilight, and his body a sculpture of male
beauty. “I love you. I will always love you.” Lightning, jagged and dangerous and beautiful, flashed overhead as he began to move again, his mouth seeking hers to lock them together. Around them, the rain was a thundering cocoon, theirs a private world. Kiss after kiss, stroke after stroke, they couldn’t get enough, would never
get enough.
He was so strong and hot and out of control, one of his hands now at her throat in a caress that her body instantly associated with erotic possession. She felt the orgasm approaching, tried to fight it off because she wanted more of this, didn’t want it to end, but it was too late, the pleasure tearing through them both in a wave of sensation as wild as the lightning that split the skies.
Only this time, it wasn’t limited to their bodies. Their minds collided on the psychic plane, their thoughts crashing together in a splintering of astonishing color that made her cry tears that became rain as she saw all the pieces of him. “I love you, Kaleb.”
Your vote will determine which scene we use for the vellum overlay artwork!
