Tag: Latrivia S. Nelson

Excerpt from Highness

Leave a comment

In Michael’s very privileged life, he had had the opportunity to visit every continent in the world, travel every ocean; he had sat with royalty from over fifty countries and dined at their personal tables; he had stood on battle fields and observed destruction and victory; he had drunk champaign 8,850 meters above sea level atop Mount Everest; he had played volley ball with a sheik on sun bleached sand with sun bleached beauties and charted a $4.8 billion yacht with a Malaysian general, but never once had he had the pleasure of visiting a Super Wal-Mart.

This dynamic retailer was packed with everything from sugar cookies and radio tires to double-barrel shotguns – all in one very convenient location, all reasonable priced, all on sale twenty-four hours a day and all under devil-awful florescent lights.  This place was so liked by Americans until it only closed on Christmas Day.

And he could see why.

He loved this place too.

The only thing he didn’t love was having to wait in line like the rest of the working-class stiffs.  One almost needed to buy a book to bide the time away.  How could you have ten lines and only two workers?  The idea perplexed him.

As he passed by the many families scurrying about the large store in deep conversation or maneuvering with their cell phones stuck to their faces and hands, he found himself completely entertained by the varying wardrobes, the deep southern drawls and overall informality of the place.

To his amazement, he was knee deep in common life.  He saw sagging pants, too tight skirts, shorts that were more like briefs, women wearing way too much makeup, old women with bad wigs, and kids with offensively snotty noses.  So not only could one get everything that was on their shopping list, they could also get a communicable disease.

      Genius. 

Prologue for The Chronicles of Young Dmitry Medlov: Volume 7

Leave a comment

sheldonian
Prologue
Oxford University
Oxfordshire, England

On a classic British autumn Wednesday of metallic gray skies, clean, brisk winds and multi-colored Sycamore trees, an afternoon lecture was taking place on the campus of Oxford University that was causing the masses to converge upon one of its most sacred buildings in record-breaking numbers.
The Sheldonian Theatre, situated in the city’s center, has long been a ceremonial gem. The eight-sided, historic fixture adorned with detailed tapestry, awe-striking brick masonry and overall old world opulence, was perfectly fitting for hosting the world’s most, powerful and wealthy crime lord.
Dmitry Medlov remembered visiting the campus many years back as a young man, when he attended his former lover Elsa’s graduation. Even then, after seeing so much in the world, he had been in complete won-der of the stately institution’s beauty. He still remembered feeling small and insignificant on campus and in comparison to the great thinkers who had matriculated here.
However, never in a million years, did he think that he would be a guest lecturer for its most prominent criminal justice academic community.
The appeal had come via FedEx and de-livered to the front door of his palatial mansion in Prague. Royal had delivered it with urgency, thinking that it had something to do with their son.

oxford-sheldonian-theatre-5250
When he had first received the invitation from Oxford, he had understandably dis-missed it. There was no way that he was going to allow himself to be put on display for greenhorns and their ridiculous journals.
However, his son Maxim – one of those reluctant greenhorns – had begged him profusely to change his mind, arguing that, “Everyone already knows who you are and what you do. Now the University would like to understand why. Do this for me, please, Papa?”
His boy. His very own greenhorn.
The rest was history.
Unable to deny his son’s request, he accepted the invitation against his other children’s wishes. It was probably their urging not to do it that made him want to speak. He might have retired but he was by no means….soft.
After all, it wasn’t him who was in charge of the Medlov Crime Family any-more, and it wasn’t as if he was going to give any real specifics about any illegal activities that had taken place over the years.
In essence, he would just speak on the perception the world had of him throughout the decades, and how wrong they all were.
Now in front of a lecture hall full of over 1,000 hungry college students, professors, reporters, and curious fans with eyes glued to him and ears opened wide ready to receive his every word, Dmitry stood behind the podium in his signature, tailored black three-piece suit in complete silence.
The entire lecture hall was ominously still, waiting on bated breath for an answer to the question just posed by the student standing at that microphone.

 

46816664
A woman, whose resemblance to Elsa was uncanny, stood up during the Q&A and posed very specific questions to him. “Why did you feel the need to acquire so much wealth in your life? And do you feel that that greed has affected your ability to really be human?”
Dmitry raised a brow at the question. He could tell that despite the department’s previous assurances, this was not going to be a soft ball interrogation. With careful thought, he mulled through endless experi-ences to arrive at an answer appropriate for her delicate mind.
She deserved an answer and in some way, it was karma-like that he’d be addressed by a woman who reminded him so much of a past that started right here on the campus where Elsa had experienced some of her most exciting and turbulent times.
The gray on the sides of his golden blonde hair was accented even more by the gold rimmed glasses angled downward on his perfect nose. He rubbed his brow and looked down at his hand-scribbled notes under the desk light. Clearing his throat, he balled up the papers.
Bending toward the microphone, his bari-tone voice boomed and echoed throughout the acoustically superior room. “I never set out to acquire the wealth that I have been blessed to have acquired. I actually just wanted to not starve to death, and more than that, I didn’t want my little brother, a man whom I saw more like a son, to starve to death. This is one of those times when the saying the road to hell is paved with good intentions actually fits.”
Dmitry smiled a little, thinking of Ivan when he was yet a boy standing on the pavement outside of their old apartment in Moscow waiting on him to return from prison. A tear started to form in the side of his eye, but he quickly pushed it back. In his older years, he often thought of his brother often and often with painful side effects.
“We were beyond poor, and so alone, but we were determined to take our destiny into our own hands and make something of our futures. When you have that type of deter-mination, nothing is impossible, not even becoming a billionaire. And when you have that type of experience, nothing makes you more human.”
Maxim Medlov was sitting in the front row of the large group with the other col-leagues of his class in a pair of tweed slacks, a white button down shirt and a sweater, looking as splendid as a man of his stature should.
More of an academic than any other child of Dmitry’s, Maxim had grown into a hand-some, tall, young man with dark striking features and an equally striking thirst for knowledge.
Boasting ink black wavy hair curled at the nape of his neck, wearing silver-rimmed glasses over his bright blue eyes the color of a London topaz and looking so much like Ivan until it made his mother sick, he often was referred to as the “Clark Kent of the Medlov men.”
Only, despite all of his heavenly features, there was nothing adventurous about Max-im. He was a settled man who believed in reasoning and non-violence.
Even as a boy, he had always asked the question why and now in his adulthood, he sought out the reasons as a budding educa-tor, destined to be a professor at this very same institution. In fact, if his future was simply based upon the large endowment that Dmitry had given the school, Maxim’s grandchildren would also be professors here as well.
Watching his father answer the questions so candidly made him shift in his seat in discomfort. Maxim knew this scene would only anger Konstantin, his twin brother, more. He looked over across the room to find Konstantin glaring at him with an angry scowl on his face.
Dutifully standing guard over their be-loved father, Konstantin looked around the room covertly, scanning for threats. To say that he did not want to be here was a su-preme understatement. He loathed these philosophical types with all their tree hug-ging and non-violent ideals. He had seen that the world was made up of wolves and sheep, and nothing in between. It was sick-ening to him that their father had indulged his wimpy, simple-minded brother with this blasphemous request, and he had made sure to tell everyone just that at dinner last night right before he stormed off to be alone and brood.

 

jonathanwaud-make-me-a-supermodel-photos-06032009-12
Konstantin was the polar opposite of Maxim. While both were over 7’ tall, Kon-stantin was an extremely muscular, pure blonde, blue-eyed, olive-skinned monster of a man with a deep voice, brooding, rugged good looks, and possessing true Vor mental-ity.
He had quit college in his third year, re-fusing to further his education. Instead, he took a job under Anya and served as the Head of Security for Medlov Enterprises.
He had been the second of the children to move out of the family home, and was al-ways the one with the shortest temper.
His mother, Royal, was completely against it all, knowing that the company was a front for the Medlov Organized Crime Family’s larger and more criminal global operations. She wanted more for her son than be relegated to the same rules of his previous generation. But he wanted to fol-low in the footsteps of his father, his big brother Anatoly, and sister.
Still, what could anyone do about the boy quitting school?
Dmitry’s final word was that Konstantin was a man, capable of making his own decisions. He felt that he had equipped him with all the tools he needed to make his own life decisions. And if Konstantin wanted to follow in the Vor way, there was no way that he would deny him the opportunity.
Anatoly, was completely behind their fa-ther’s decision and had become his biggest advocate in all family decisions.
Anya could think of nothing better than having one of her baby brothers by her side, along with her husband, Semyon. As the first woman to reign in such a capacity, loyalty was a hard commodity to come by and she would never turn down someone she knew that she could trust.
Maxim was too much of an intellect to even weigh in on the decision. And even if he had, no one would have listened.
Then there was the baby girl of the fami-ly. Demi was, as usual, unaffected by the family feud. She was off planning a wedding and refusing to even accept that her family was associated with the Vor. Maxim would always comment that Demi had drunk the Kool-Aid and was now hopelessly blind to what their family had done in the world while gaining personal wealth.
Dmitry huffed and gazed out over the crowd. “The question of nature versus nurture could be better evaluated at my home. Do you breed criminals or are they born? Some in this world, though I’ve never been convicted of a crime as an adult, would say that I am a criminal.” His eye twitched. “I would ask the question, what billionaire is not a criminal?”
Everyone laughed.
“Show me one, and I’ll show you a man or woman who inherited billions but does not yet control it, because any time that you have that type of wealth and you are in control, something is bound to go wrong.” Scratching his throat, he straightened his long back. “My children have truly made me see what’s important in this life. They have also shown me that despite your best efforts, once they are adults, you have to let them make their own decisions. Even if you tell them a 100 times not to do what you have done…sometimes they still follow in your footsteps.”
Just then, the doors in the back of the lec-ture hall opened and with it came a bright light, cool air and a breathtakingly beautiful tall woman. She appeared through the double doors wearing a black leather jacket cut to fit her small waist and wide shoulders and a matching black leather skirt tapered to fit her wide hips and long legs down to the knee. Although she was well over 6’ tall, she wore leather stilettos that tied at the ankle making her appear even larger than life.
Busty and voluptuous, she walked with a powerful stride, hips moving with a mean sway. The diamonds in her ears, on her neck, her wrist, and finger caught the light and reflected across the room. Throwing her silky black hair over her shoulder, it landed perfectly down her back and feathered around her angelic face.
She strode in with all eyes watching in sheer admiration and curiosity. Right be-hind her were five enormous men, all wear-ing suits, and all very menacing in their appearance.
Dmitry paused, giving his daughter the moment her presence commanded. How she reminded him of her mother. She was al-ways draped in diamonds, always beautiful and always powerful.
“Speak of the devil,” he said, winking at Anya.
“Better late than never, Papa,” she said, walking down the aisle to the very front of the room.
Five scholars on the front row opposite Maxim stood up and moved as if on cue, far too intimidated by the woman to wait for her entourage to ask them to relocate.
Arrogantly, she removed her designer shades and sat down beside her brother. With a venomous glare, she smiled at him. “Enjoying your little show Maxim?” she asked under her breath.
She looked over at Konstantin who was eyeing her every move and smiled at him proudly. How she loved her Konstantin.
“Nice of you to add to the conversation, sestra,” Maxim said, rolling his eyes. He adjusted his glasses in frustration. “If you had let me know that you were coming, there would have been no need to strong arm innocent students for their seats. I would have reserved a few seats for you and your private army.” He looked at the men sitting beside her, so large until they barely fit in the chairs, and sucked in a frustrated breath.
Without asking, he was certain there were more of them outside, causing a scene and circling the perimeter of the building as if she was the Queen of England.
Anya huffed. “Well, there was no way in hell that I was going to allow you to just throw just Papa to these wolves.”
“They are not wolves,” Maxim answered suggestively.
“Really? Then why are they circling like wolves around him? Anyway…you know the saying, where there is one Medlov, there are many. Admit it or not, brother, you knew that I’d be here. I’ll always be here.” Anya crossed her long legs and blew her father an endearing kiss. “Please continue, Papa. Forgive my tardiness and interrup-tion.”
“No apologies needed, princess. I would wait for you until the end of time,” Dmitry said, picking up where he left off with more vigor. “Where was I? Yes, nature versus nurture…”

bestactor_mortensen_big_grid-6x2

Vasily’s Revenge: The Complete Story is out!!!

4 Comments

Vasilys Revenge Option 2 (907x1280)

Well, I kept my promise. I made my deadline of September 30th to drop Vasily’s Revenge: The Complete Story.  I’m really excited about this one, simply because of its history.  When the Scandalous Heroes Box Set Authors approached me about writing a book, I was trying to figure out what character to be developed more.  Karen Moss was in love with Vasily and I thought, perfect, I’ll focus in on that.  Well, I didn’t realize how much I would enjoy writing his story.  I had a chance also to talk more about the relationship between Gabriel Medlov and his live-in girlfriend along with how Dmitry felt his organization should continue to be structured.

We’re going to have a book discussion tonight over at the Latrivia Nelson Love Pub on Facebook. You are welcome to Join and Swing by for a fun conversation. It’s also available on Amazon’s Kindle and Barnes and Noble’s Nook as of today.

Now, I’m off to finish writing The Chronicles of Young Dmitry Medlov: Volume 7. Then we switch to the Lonely Hearts.  Can’t wait and couldn’t have done it without all of you.

Synopsis

Vasily Kavlov has been proud of one title in his life, head enforcer of the Medlov Organized Crime Family. As a Russian Mafia hit man, his entire purpose has been to protect his bosses and their families without prejudice. However, even the bravest hit man has loved at least once. To Vasily’s detriment, it was his former boss, Leo Rasputin’s wife, Lilly. After sticking his neck out once in the name of love to protect her, he was nearly killed and then discarded by the very man who had sworn allegiance. Given a second and better chance with Dmitry Medlov and his men, Vasily focused on climbing the ranks and becoming lauded by his brethren. Now the head of security for the Czar of the Underworld, a feared and revered faction of the Vory v Zakone, he put all ideas of love aside and follows the code of the Thieves-in-Law. That is until Leo breaks out of Attica and tries to hunt down Lilly in an attempt to take her life. Secret pacts between men and women come unbound as the race against time for $20 million in diamonds, unveils the truth for Vasily. He might not only carry the title of enforcer but also the title of father of Lilly’s eight year old son. Hiding them under the guard of the Medlov family, he must find the diamonds, find the men responsible for the set up and finally find out the truth. Read the first book in the new series about the most famous fiction Russian Mafia family in books, The Medlov Men, by national bestselling author Latrivia S. Nelson.

Warner Brothers is doing a Vory v Zakone project

Leave a comment

eastern_promises_armin_mueller_stahl_viggo_mortensen_cast_1

EXCLUSIVE: Warner Bros is moving forward with a drama that will trace the origins of organized crime in Russia. The studio has hired Andrew Sodroski to write Vor V Zakone. That is a Russian term that translates to Thief In Law, which refers to a professional criminal who holds elite status among other law breakers. This traces back to the Russian Revolution of 1917, where Stalin attempted to exterminate the criminal underworld and filled the gulags with bandits and thugs of every stripe. Rather than weed them out, that effort united them and created a heirarchy that continues to this day, with soldiers wearing their rank in the form of tattoos bestowed by leaders from prison. The narrative thru line here is how one man, a leader of the Vor V Zakone, rose to become the very person his brethren swore never to serve: the Tsar himself.

Michael Andreen is producing. Sodroski’s script Holland, Michigan is getting made with Errol Morris directing and Naomi Watts starring, with John Lesher’s Le Grisbi producing. The scribe was a history major at Harvard and has lived in Kosovo and the Republic of Georgia. He’s repped by CAA, Principato Young and David Fox. Andreen, a longtime studio exec, hatched the original idea for the epic drama and Warner Bros’ Jon Berg will oversee it.

http://www.deadline.com/2013/09/warner-bros-plans-russian-mob-origin-drama-vor-v-zakone/

Article written by: By | Wednesday September 18, 2013 @ 4:33pm PDT

 

Highness: A Lonely Heart Series Story

6 Comments

Official Cover

Prince Michael has always been England’s bad boy.  Handsome, confident and completely untraditional, many of his antics garnered front-page news and international headlines over the years.  However, once he gets engaged to a woman of note, he finally become a man that his mother, The Queen of England, can be proud of.  Too bad, the world wind romance is short lived.

Catastrophe:  After calling off the wedding to Thalia, his brother Richard convinces him to get out of the public eye and covertly go to the United States for a while where he hopes that Michael will gain a little more respect for his title and position by living as a commoner, and so the media won’t keep catching him in other women’s beds.  To make the situation a little more discrete, they pick the small town of Hernando, Mississippi for their experiment.  Normally, Michael would have considered the entire proposal laughable, but the constant fallout from the breakup make what started out as a preposterous suggestion a pliable solution.

Hope Daniels is on top of the world.  Working on a collection of art to display in a few months after signing a major deal, she feverishly is working toward her deadline, when suddenly disaster strikes.  After being in a head-on collision with a drunk driver, she is left temporarily blind and completely alone. With no one to help take care of her, her agent pushes her to hire someone to help her around the house until her sight comes back.  After the most ridiculous interview ever, she finally agrees to hire handyman, Beau Michaels, not knowing that her help is actually the royal variety.

Blessing:  Michael’s never been understood, mostly because his beauty and title have always gotten in the way of any sincere connection with a woman, but with Hope blind to his looks and unaware of his true status, he is forced to be himself for the first time ever.

With his majesty waiting on Hope hand and foot, and Hope feeding Michael’s soul with more than pomp and circumstance, their connection becomes electric.

Only what happens when she can see again and he finally sees what he wants in life?

Read the fifth book in The Lonely Heart Series by National Bestselling Author Latrivia S. Nelson, Highness.  Coming Soon.

Former New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin Guilty of Corruption

Leave a comment

I can’t even say anymore, just read the article. I’m so sad right now.  We  put so much trust into Nagin after the storms and we needed so much help.  I say “we” because the citizens of New Orleans are American Citizens, Southern Citizens, the whole nine.  I do hope that this is not all true.  I hope that he has been set up.  Even as I write this, I hear my readers saying, “Wishful thinking, Latrivia.”  What is really going on in the world, Craig? He could have made $60,000 writing a good book about his experiences there in New Orleans during the Hurricane.  Geesh!!!

twilight%20in%20New%20Orleans%20fa
By Elizabeth Chuck

Former New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin was convicted Wednesday of accepting bribes and free trips from contractors in exchange for helping them clinch millions of dollars in city work when he was in office.

Prosecutors in the federal corruption case alleged Nagin took bribes worth more than $500,000 through various criminal acts, starting before Hurricane Katrina hit in 2005 and continuing through the storm’s recovery.

Nagin, a Democrat who was mayor for two terms from 2002 to 2010, denied he took any bribes. He faced a 21-count indictment, and was found guilty of 20 counts. The counts ranged from conspiracy to filing a false tax return.

Read the indictment

One of the most egregious charges Nagin was found guilty of was accepting $60,000 from an engineering firm, Three Fold Consulting, in exchange for special treatment. The lone charge he was found not guilty of was a separate bribery charge: accepting a $10,000 bribe arranged by a principal in Three Fold Consultants.

Nagin, 57, faces more than 20 years in prison. His sentencing date has not yet been set. U.S. District Judge Ginger Berrigan ordered him to be under house arrest until the sentencing, WDSU in New Orleans reported.

The jury deliberated for about six and a half hours before delivering the verdict.

First published February 12th 2014, 12:59 pm

Latrivia Nelson Steps into 2014

11 Comments

Latrivia Nelson and Bruce Welch

Latrivia Nelson and Bruce Welch

At the stroke of midnight, I was on the phone with Shag, while he told me that he loved me as he was working. I was in route to the party we both we soon be at in the late hours of the night. Our promise to ourselves was simple…We would no longer allow ourselves to be controlled by other people and their demands of us.

We had endured a tough year (1) the loss of our unborn child, (2) the craziness of past relationships, (3) near death experiences, (4) cleaning up the garage…and the list goes on. But we made it. Now it’s a new year, and a lot has changed. I went from the Sr. Account Services at the firm that I work for to the Senior Account Executive (big jump), I’ve got a load of new material to release for the Latrivia Nelson brand and more than anything, I’m actually thinking outside of the box.

The key, however, is to be consistent. You have to think outside of the box on a continual basis. Not easy. Not easy at all. It’s like sticking your big toe in the water but not following through with getting in, even if the water is just right. So this year, I’m diving in.

To prove it, I’m sharing something with you. Here is the rough, rough, rough draft of the Prologue of The Chronicles of Young Dmitry: Volume 6. I refuse to miss out on one more opportunity to share with you, because no one is promised tomorrow.

How are you stepping into 2014? I’d love to hear, so please share.

XoXo and all that jazz,
Latrivia

The Chronicles of Young Dmitry Medlov
Volume 6

By: Latrivia S. Nelson
Confidential Copy

Prologue

Midnight, Private Airstrip
Manhattan (New York City, NY)

After a physically and mentally exhausting flight from Prague, Dmitry Medlov stepped off his shiny, new private Learjet in a private Manhattan hangar with five of his best men in tow and planted his long limbs on solid ground.

Ahh.

It felt good to be out of the confinement of the stuffy plane and back on the earth’s surface again. He’d never truly been fond of planes, because it took away too much control and put it in the hands of another; although at the same time, planes were an absolute necessity for his way of life. So were the bodyguards and the armored cars and the guns and so many other things, he would have been happy to live without had he had another life. A simple life. But that was wishful thinking.

Three black bulletproof SUVs were waiting outside of the hangar for the men along with his eager-to-please Brighton Beach team. All of the men on the team were young, barely in their thirties, dying to be in charge or at least to be recognized. They greeted him with the customary respects, shocked to see the boss in the flesh.

Although he was tired, he made sure to shake every man’s hand, even though he didn’t have to. It was unbelievable what a man would risk if shown a little respect. Over the years, just shaking a man’s hand had led them to dive in front of bullets for him, knowing that they would not survive. And what did it take to get them to sacrifice themselves? A little kindness. But that had been learned not taught sense, something that had come at a hefty price.

“Boss, you’re here,” Semyon said, opening the door for him to the SUV.

Dmitry paused at the door and looked at Semyon. “I want you on your best behavior.”

Semyon tilted his head. “Of course, boss.”

Although Dmitry loaded up, no part of him wanted to sit for a second longer. He would have walked in the night’s air, if he had the time.

His body ached in places that only a man of his age could, longing for a steaming hot bath and a warm bed, but he knew that his attention needed to be in other places at the moment, namely on his more than defiant daughter, Anya.

In a word, she was out of control.

And as a result, so was he.

Only, he denied himself any reason to show it. He couldn’t give her that power over the situation.
Another power struggle.

Life was full of them.

After an explosive argument that he and his oldest daughter had the day before about her desire to start running a part of his business that she should have neither known about nor in her right mind wanted anything to do with, she had packed her things and left the country.

The country.

It was a move that only proved to him that she was still an immature child, even if she was now technically a woman. However, his wife had begged to differ, rationalizing that his tyrant-like hold on Anya’s life was the reason that she had chosen to flee.

Who would blame her, Royal had reasoned.

Women all stuck together, no matter the age.

Again, it all came back to being his fault. The very notion that all that he had done to keep her safe had been not only unappreciated but completely overlooked made him want to show everyone what real immaturity looked like, but it wouldn’t have done any good. Anya had a hold on him, whether he admitted to it or not.

To keep the family from knowing her exact whereabouts, Anya had chartered a flight across the ocean using her own money, but what she hadn’t counted on was the chip that Dmitry had installed in the diamond bracelet that she was still wearing. It had been necessary after he had found out about her secret relationship with Semyon and her proposed marriage to the prince who would remain nameless.
Within one mission in mind, they headed in a tight convoy towards NYU’s campus. As soon as Dmitry heard where she had traveled to, he knew exactly where to look for her. And after one call, he had gotten an address. There was only one person whom she’d travel thousands of miles to cry to, her childhood friend, and one of the sons of his most trusted confidants, Adamo Agosto.

***

Twisting the cap off a cold beer and throwing it on the coffee table in the living room, Adamo plopped down on his brown leather sofa, put the pillow on his lap, and grabbed the remote.
It was a perfect Saturday night, and here he was watching The Godfather trilogy and babysitting. What a life? He should have been out hanging with his friends or crawling into bed with strange women, just like his brother Madison was doing at that moment, but Anya needed him.

She had shown up on his doorstep unannounced and alone the night before, interrupting his session with Apple, a California blonde named for Silicon Valley’s most coveted technology and shaped like a vintage coke bottle, whom he had devoted two very long weeks to getting in bed. The entire courtship had been all for naught, seeing that he had to throw her out on her ass when Anya came storming in teary eyed and upset.

Apple had been his weekend plan, but Anya had been his friend most of his life.

Now, it would take days to line up something else; time that he didn’t have. Major exams were coming up starting Monday morning, and he had to produce good grades or his old man would have his ball sack. If he could recall correctly, his father had used those exact words in his threat.
So help me if you don’t get those grades, I’ll have your ball sack on my rearview mirror for Christmas, his father had threatened.

Reason enough for any sensible young man to take his classes seriously.

“Do you feel like some company?” Anya asked, standing at the top of the spiral staircase that led to the bedroom. Her voice hummed through the air like a summer breeze.

Adamo looked up from the sofa and spied her in one of his dress shirts. It was like a jolting shock to his inner wolf, and suddenly he was begging to get out. True, they had seen each other plenty of times naked when they were kids playing in the backyard of his parents’ home with the water hose, but this was no child that he was beholding.

Anya was all woman, all curves and sensuality. Her long black mane flowed like a black river down past her shoulders and her killer body peaked out of the Brooks Brothers pin stripe making him nearly forget that she was at least like his sister. Her perky large breasts pressed hard against the fine fabric and flawless firm long legs anchored her stealthy frame. And even in the shirt that tried to dwarf her, he could see wide hips and a remarkable tiny waist.

Absolute perfection.

Absolutely untouchable.

He moved the bottle from his mouth absently and swallowed hard. His large Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “Sure,” he croaked in a deep southern baritone. He moved over on the sofa quickly and tapped the cushion. “Bring a throw with you. It can get chilly with the ceiling fan.” He couldn’t take his gaze off the still, diamond-like blueness of her sultry eyes.

Look away, he told himself quietly.

“You sure? I don’t want to intrude any more than I already have,” she said in her weird English and Russian accent.

Even after many years of spending time back and forth in the states, Anya sounded extremely foreign to Adamo.

“Hell, you’ve already intruded more than you should have. Might as well go the whole way.” He knew that she knew he was playing.

“I’ll be right down.” Anya smiled gently, almost with a hint of flirtation, and disappeared back in the room to grab the covers. As she did, Adamo caught a glimpse of her white lace panties from his low vantage point. He liked white.

His brow spiked in curiosity, but he quickly shut it off. “It’s Anya for Pete’s sake. Get a hold of yourself,” he mumbled under his breath.

“What did you say?” she called out from the bedroom.

“Umm…nothing,” Adamo said, looking down at his lap. This would have all gone better if Anya had just shown up a little later last night. Apple would have cured what was suddenly ailing him.
Trailing down the staircase with the throw in her hands, she stopped midway when his doorbell rang.

“Are you expecting anyone?” she asked, staring at the black wooden door.

Adamo stood up. “I’m never expecting anyone,” he said, walking across the room. “But that doesn’t mean shit.”

Anya wanted to tell him not to answer it, but kept her lips pursed closed.

“Who is it?” Adamo asked, looking through the peephole. He looked back at her and shook her head. “It’s your dad,” he said with a sigh. Great, more drama for the night. Just what he needed. All he was missing was the angry boyfriend.

“Shit,” Anya said, heading back upstairs. “Stall him.”

“Uh huh.” Adamo waited until she closed the bedroom door before he opened the front door. “What’s up, old man,” he said with a smile.

Dmitry looked down at Adamo, shirtless and wearing basketball shorts and growled. “I’m here for Anya,” he said, breezing past him.

Adamo stood to the side and let his NBA sized entourage inside. Closing the door behind them, he ran a hand through his black curls. “I can’t say that I didn’t expect you. Where there is one Medlov…there are normally many more.”

“I could say the same for the Agosto’s,” Dmitry quipped.

Standing in the middle of the open room, Dmitry looked around the little loft apartment, complete with New York Yankees memorabilia hanging on the exposed brick walls, a bike in the corner and tons of old textbooks lined up on the bookshelves. A typical college apartment. “Where is she?” he asked flatly. He took off his suit jacket and laid it on the recliner adjacent to the sofa.

Adamo pointed. “Upstairs changing,” he said, locking eyes with Semyon, who was standing right beside him, glaring at him. “What’s up with your guard dog?”

Semyon’s eye twitched and the veins in his neck protruded out.

Dmitry walked into the small kitchen and grabbed a glass out of the cupboard, like he had been there a hundred times before. Leaning against the counter, he sipped the water and looked out the window at the Manhattan skyline. “How is your family?” he asked, ignoring Adamo’s snide remark.

Adamo was about to respond when the dog finally spoke.

“Just another fucking spoiled American suka,” Semyon snarled. He stepped closer to Adamo.
“Suka?” Adamo turned and looked up at Semyon, blue eyes blazing. “Who are you calling a bitch, bitch? You better take that shit outside.”

“Boys,” Dmitry said, slightly raising his voice. He glanced over at them with a warning glare. He wasn’t here for them to measure their dicks. He was here for his daughter.

Both men backed down, but only because of Dmitry’s command. Otherwise, they would have already been at each other’s throats.

Adamo had been around Russians most of his life, so the intimidation factor had long gone out the window, and he spoke the language fluently, knew the customs, understood the underworld. Plus, if one added in the factor that he was also an interracial child born out of a marriage of a black woman and a white man, Italian in fact, then he’d had hard knocks enough. As such, he had become hardened over the years. He was his own man, ready to stand when needed against anyone who got in his way.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Dmitry said in a low even tone.

“Pop is good. He and mom took a vacation to Cabo,” Adamo finally answered Dmitry, while at the same time stepping away from Semyon before he lost his cool. “My brothers are scattered out. Madison transferred up here to NYU this semester. Michael and David are all stars on the football team back home. Rosalyn and Sadiri are both boy crazed middle schoolers. We’re all just one big happy family,” Adamo said, walking into the kitchen. He opened the frig and pulled out another beer. “Want one?” He offered the bottle to Dmitry.

“It’s odd watching you even offer me that,” Dmitry said, taking the beer. “Just a minute ago, you were a child running around my house with your brothers.”

Adamo grabbed one for himself. “Well, I had to grow up sometime.” He took a sip and looked back over at Semyon critically. “You sure that he should be here when she comes out? She was pretty upset when she arrived.”

“Why wouldn’t he be?” Dmitry asked, looking over at Semyon, who had his eyes locked on Adamo’s closed bedroom door.

“He’s part of the problem,” Adamo said, intentionally not lowering his voice.

“Lovers often are,” Dmitry said with finality.

Adamo bucked his eyes. “Him?” He shook his head in disbelief. “What happened to Prince Pussy pants?”
The bedroom door opened and Anya emerged fully dressed. As soon as her hand touched the banister, she locked eyes on Semyon. Even in his brooding silence, he dominated the room and her attention.
Without intention, her mouth parted when she saw him. His deep tan skin glistened with sheer anger. Looking over at Adamo and back at her, he raised a brow.

“No,” she said, rolling her eyes. “He’s just a friend.”

The tension left his wide mountainous shoulders. Licking his deep rose lips, he gave her another look, one that was mixed with relief and need. Semyon headed up the staircase towards her. Then he remembered himself. Gritting his teeth, he looked over at Dmitry. “Boss, may I have a word with her alone?”

Dmitry placed the beer down carefully on the countertop and walked back out where she could see him.

“Daddy,” Anya said, straightening up. “How did you find me?”

“Boys, why don’t you all step outside,” Dmitry said, temper quietly flaring. He kept his eyes on Anya. “I need to speak to my daughter alone and unlike Semyon; I don’t have the energy to hike up a flight of stairs.”

Adamo opened the frig again and pulled out the rest of his beers. “I guess I’ll be outside then,” he said, walking to the front door.

Semyon looked at Anya one last time and then headed out of the door behind Adamo.

As soon as the door closed, Anya came down the stairs. “I needed some time,” she said before Dmitry could speak.

“You were throwing a fit. Stomping your feet won’t solve anything with me, Anya. You have to know that by now.”

Anya raised a finger. “I was not stomping my feet.”

“Really?” Dmitry said, lifting his palms in the air. “We’re in New York. You left the country because you were upset.”

“I needed to get some distance between myself and my situation,” she said in a matter of fact tone. “But you can’t understand that because you’re too busy still trying to control me.”

“Are you trying to provoke me?” Dmitry asked, voice even. He put a large hand on his hip.

“No, I’m trying to…”

Dmitry cut her off. “Don’t. If you try, I might just get provoked.”

“Then what, Daddy? I’m not a Vor. You can’t have me killed because I don’t want to do exactly as I’m told.”

Dmitry smiled. “Clever girl. You think I’m out of options, don’t you.” He shook his head. “I’m far from it. You will do as I have instructed because I have instructed it.”

“I will not,” she said calmly. She clenched her jaw. “I’ve decided that I’m not going back with you. So, you’ve wasted a trip. And I won’t come back until you hear out my proposal. It’s a good proposal…”

“It’s ridiculous. You running my London affairs? Have you gone mad? No women are on the council. No women run entire outfits. You’re a child.”

“I’m not a child,” she said, snapping back at him. “I haven’t been a child since the day that Davyd was killed.” She fought tears as she said his name.

Dmitry pointed a finger at her. “You will not place yourself in harm’s way by running London.
Viktor is running London, and he’s doing fine as my…”

“Viktor is dead,” Anya interrupted said, voice lower. “And I assure you, he’s not fine.”
Dmitry’s brow furrowed. “What?” Did he hear her right? Why had he not been informed?

“I killed him,” Anya said, eyes darkening. She walked around the sofa toward her father. “Before I flew here, I stopped in London, and I met with him at his house, where I confronted him about his dealings with Hashed Nadir, and then I killed him after he basically admitted to stealing from us to fund activities that we don’t support, specifically terrorism. He was helping fund and fuel a civil war with our weapons and with our money.”

“If you had been in London, I would have known about it. If Viktor was dead, I would know about it,” Dmitry growled.

“Because of the diamond bracelet?” she asked, raising her wrist. It reflected in the light. “One plane came straight to New York with the bracelet on it. One plane went to London. And the reason that you don’t know about Viktor is because his men are dead also.”

Dmitry saw a glint in his daughter’s eyes that reminded him of a man he once knew. Even now, she bore his resemblance.

“Am I really to believe that a little girl killed my men?” Dmitry sucked his teeth. “Who helped you?” He looked toward the door as if to implicate Semyon.

Anya drew her father’s attention. “He wouldn’t have, even if I had begged him. He’s loyal to you way past a fault. And none of your men would have stood with me for fear of you, even though Viktor was a sorry excuse for a man and a traitor. The order didn’t come from you, so I had no help.”

“How many?” Dmitry asked.

“Five,” Anya said without flinching.

He thought it hard to believe that his daughter was capable of such a thing.

“They weren’t expecting it. That’s what made it easy,” she explained. “If they had even an inkling of an idea that I came there to kill them, then I’m sure that I’d be dead.” Still, she did not flinch.

“You only get that kind of advantage once. Eventually, your innocent façade will wear off and people will see you for what you are. No more surprises. No more advantages. Then where will you be?”

“And just what am I exactly, daddy?” she asked.

Dmitry walked up to her and rubbed her face. “You’re a Medlov.”

“Then give me the opportunity to prove it. My brothers have no desire to run anything outside of Anatoly. He’s got the States and everything on that side of the glob locked. But London…” Her eyes were bright. “We have so many growth opportunities in Europe.”
Dmitry’s shoulder’s slumped. “It kills me when I can’t give you what you want…”

“But…” She urged him to finish his sentence.

“But this is one of those times that I’ll just have to be unhappy. The Vor has no place for women and absolutely no place for my daughter. This family has billions of dollars at its disposable because I did the heavy lifting years before you were born. As a result there are even more opportunities…legal opportunities…for you to explore than most of the entire world put together. So you see, I can’t indulge this desire you have to live recklessly at everyone else’s expense. I appreciate your dealings with Viktor, and I will be following up on everything that you said, but if you are caught inserting yourself into my business again, then I’ll be forced to take drastic steps.”

“So because I am a woman…”

Dmitry cut her off. “You are my daughter. You will do as I say. This discussion is over. Now, I have rooms for us at the Waldorf. We’re leaving and going their now. And upon your arrival, you will call your mother and let her know that you are safe again.”

“I was safe before,” she snapped, stepping away from him. “I can’t believe after everything that I just told you, it still boiled down to a no answer. Do you think that my spoiled ass baby brothers are going to lead the next generation of men? Or Demi?” she laughed facetiously. “Anatoly isn’t exactly raising the next Czar. Gabriel never had a blind man’s chance in the first place and if you even think about selecting Semyon over me…” Her nostrils flared.

Dmitry smacked his lips and looked away from her. “You’re too power hungry for your own good, Anya,” he warned.

“It worked out well for you, didn’t it. Heavy lifting aside, you made out pretty well from the slums of Moscow to where you are now.”

“Do you think that you really have what it takes to lead at all costs?” he asked, stone faced.

“Yes,” she answered quickly.

“Fine,” Dmitry said, pulling his gun from the holster under his tailored suit jacket. The steel weapon gleemed across the room. “What if Semyon is the only thing standing in the way of you and your coveted position? When I was your age, I would have simply killed him. Got him out of the way.” He put the cold steel in her manicured hands. “Not much has changed since that time when it comes to life and power. If you want the Vory so badly, go and get it. He won’t be expecting it either. Blow his brains out and if you’re afraid of Adamo being a witness, then kill him too.”
Anya looked at the gun and then shoved it back toward him.

“What’s the matter?” Dmitry asked, taunting her.

“You would really let me kill them. Both of them. I know it,” she said pissed.

“That’s the point. The Vory v Zakone has no place for love,” Dmitry said, acknowledging the fact that he knew about covert but blooming relationship that she was having with Semyon.

“Who said anything about love?” she snapped.

“If I have to tell you how I know, this conversation is going to take a drastic turn. Now, I’m still your father dammit.” His teeth showed

Like a deer in headlights, Anya stood in shock. “How did you know?” she asked. “Did he tell you?”
“No. He did not tell me, though it did nearly cost him his life.”
Anya’s eyebrows immediately spiked.

Dmitry continued with a low ease in his voice. “Besides, it’s my business to know.” He bit his wide heart-shaped lips, contemplating just how much to tell her. “I may not always have a close enough eye on my men, Viktor being a prime example, but you aren’t one of my men, and I have to keep you safe and keep both eyes on you.” He sucked his teeth. “Would you make an excellent Czar? Absolutely. Will you make an excellent Czar? Hell no. It will be over my dead, rotting body.” He thought instantly of his father.

“As usual, your word is the last word father,” she said snidely. Her eyes were ice cold as was the sudden chill in the room.

Dmitry countered quickly. “And as usual, you only see your side.”
With that Anya threw her black backpack over her shoulder and cut her eyes at her father, realizing that at that moment he was getting exactly what he wanted while she was left empty handed yet again. “You’re making a mistake,” she said, walking to the door. “I’m your best chance for the future of the Medlov family and you know it.”

Dmitry followed a few feet behind her with his hands tucked into his pants pockets. She could say whatever she wanted now that she was in his view, unable to get into any more trouble. “If I have to chose a fallen legacy in organized crime or the health and protection of my daughter, then I think that the answer is obvious.”

Anya opened the door and turned to look up at her father. “The problem is that you don’t have to choose. You can have both.”

“That’s the child in you speaking, Anya. Serving two masters has consequences.”

Dmitry immediately thought back to when he was her age and a young woman he was seeing taught him first hand about serving two masters and having two faces.
Elsa.

Even after all of the years that had passed, he could see her bright perfect smile and how when the light hit her beautiful flawless face just right, the damage and bagged showed. Her eyes told the story of a woman who had been through too much, had been hurt by the ones she trusted the most.
The result had been inward destruction. Somehow Elsa had begun to rot from within; only he hadn’t noticed it in time to save her. He had accepted that, but he would never accept what Anya was proposing.

He couldn’t and wouldn’t let that happen to his daughter. Despite Anya’s desire to fight against it, she still had a more good in her than anyone else he knew. And it was his job to protect it, to bring it out of her, even if it was the last thing that he did.

Ten Questions for Author Latrivia S. Nelson

2 Comments

By: Gina Morris

att00040-7234792

1.       How would you describe yourself?

I’m a pretty laid back person.  What you see is what you get.  I love my family, my friends, my professional career and my hobbies.

 

2.       What do you do outside of writing?

I’m the President and CEO of RiverHouse Publishing.  I am a partner in a national cleaning service.  And from 9-5, I represent some of the nation’s most promising businesses, political figures, non-profits and initiatives at a world-class public relations firm.

 

3.    What made you start to write interracial romance?

I’ve been writing since I was four.  I had my first poem published when I was five.  I started to write interracial romance in high school and finally committed to my first novel in undergrad.  I have always been drawn to the genre and felt like the only way to truly share my vision of IR was to write it.

bookclub

4.       How did you grow such a large readership?

I started out with 50 people whom I had to beg to write my book.  Then I developed a small grassroots marketing plan and started to reach out to IR readers.  My base went from 50 to 500 overnight and now it is at 50,000 readers globally.  Three of my basic tenets is to respond to emails, encourage open and honest dialogue and write to entertain.  I always want my readers to know that I appreciate them and their opinions and their support.  So, I do what I can to show that through my communications.

images-5 copy

5.       Is it true that you’ve dated Russian mobsters?

It’s true that I’ve dated a Russian. The rest is funny fiction.  I don’t know where the rumor started, but it was shortly after a post that my ex put on my page who also happened to be a 6’8”, blue-eyed Russian.  He was the muse for the book, but the rest is just an overactive imagination.

 

6.       With over 10,000 reviews online on combined sites, most people seem to either love you or hate you.  How do you handle bad reviews?

I read the reviews to gather input, but I have learned to only take the good from even the worst review.  One of the things that I remind myself of constantly is that after I’ve done my best, I just need to walk away from the project and move on to something else.  It keeps it fun and light and allows me to keep writing.  Plus, you can’t please everyone.  So, I don’t try.  If I can please the majority, then I’m a happy camper.

 

7.       What is the process for you writing a novel, whether short or long?

I ask myself if I’d fantasize about the scenario.  And if I would, then I write it. If I get bored with even the thought of the storyline, then I dump it.  There are so many half-finished manuscripts on my desk, until it’s not even funny.  But if I don’t think its good enough, I don’t give it to my readers, because they deserve my best.  I normally start out with an outline, cut out pictures, develop a soundtrack and then depending on the mood of the book, I carve out time during certain parts of the day to write it.

bw

8.       Your divorce was pretty public?  How did you handle it and are you dating now?

I encourage all women and men going through a tough divorce to pray hard and know that this is just a season in your life.  Wake up every day and look forward.  Visualize where you want to be and get there through hard work, prayer and healthy living. It was hard at first. I lost a lot of weight, was sick, got out of my normal schedule and really had to find out who I was without the “Mrs.” on the front of my name.  But in searching for the new me, I discovered that there was a better me around the corner.

 

Yes, I am dating now.  I’m in a happy relationship with a real “Southern Gentleman”.  LOL.  He’s funny and smart, but I think that outside of what he brings to the table, I’m a whole person, so we can mutually complement each other. You can’t do that when you don’t have it together yourself.  There will always be one step forward and two steps back.  But Trivi is okay now.

 

Plus, I like that every day with him is exciting.  We are both parents, both divorced and both anxious to see what life has in store for us.  Hopefully, what is in store will be something that we can enjoy together.

 

9.       Do readers have new characters to look forward to in 2014?

The Medlov Men will be out in January.  The Nine Lives of Kat Steele will be out in 2014.  And there will be new characters will completely different stories for The Lonely Heart Series.

 

10.   What’s next for you?  You’ve accomplished so much in a short time.  What else are you looking to achieve?

 

In 2014, I will be trying my hand at merchandising through a new company that I’m launching.  Trivi’s Treasure Chest.  There will be more to come on that, but I hope that the ladies like it.

 

The next set of questions are meant strictly for entertainment.  So have fun with it.

question-mark

 

Favorite Clothing Line

Armani

 

Favorite Perfume

Acqua di Gioia by Giorgio Armani

 

Favorite Flower

Red Roses

 

Favorite Movie

Too hard.  My list is too long.

 

Favorite Sport/Team

Football – Dallas Cowboys

 

Favorite Alcoholic Beverage

Jack and Coke in a crystal tumbler with two cubes of ice

 

Favorite Vacation Spot

Looking for a new one, but I’d have to say Palm Springs, California. I love the mountains and the amazing views.

 

Favorite Song

Beyoncé  – Run the World (Girls)

 

Favorite Color

Black

 

Favorite Body Part on a Man?

His chest and arms (they have to be bigger than life)

 

Favorite part of the day

Running a hot bubble bath in the garden tub right at dusk, opening the windows, having a glass of wine and listening to Robin Thicke.  It’s priceless.

 

latrivia_close_up_323175941_std