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8 Feb 2016

Today’s DRIVE Excerpt (NSFW)

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. No Comments

We’re enjoying a fine winter storm here in New England, so I thought I’d share a little something to heat up your winter day. Early reviews are saying things along the lines of “Wow, this story has it all!” (Harp’s Romance Book Reviews) and “Character-driven romance and well-developed sex scenes […] a book that is worth a look.” (All About Romance). And today, you can still get the pre0rder price. (Plus it’s on sale at Samhain, along with all other romance titles.)

“We’re going to have so much fun.” He smiled, shaking his head. “Open your legs.” When she obeyed, he ran two fingers over her lips, catching her moisture. “You’re so wet.” His fingers dove into her, just long enough to make her clench. “I can’t wait to lick that lovely pussy and play with that ring. Can’t wait to fuck you. But first, I’m going to do something I’ve been dreaming about ever since I saw you bent over the Mustang. Turn around so I can spank your beautiful ass. Assuming that’s something you want to try, of course.”

Heart pounding, breath caught in her throat, Suzanne obeyed, bracing herself against the counter.

She prepared herself for a resounding thwack, but as he’d done with her breasts, he started with a light caress, running his big hands over the skin until every bit of it tingled to life.

She pushed her ass back at him and moaned. He rewarded her with a hard spank.

Surprisingly hard. She’d been prepared, she thought, but it had been a long time. “Ouch!” she exclaimed, then added quickly as the heat spread from her affronted bottom throughout her body, “But not yellow. Just startled.”

He stroked the tender skin for a second then struck again. This time, she managed not to yell, though she did bounce in place on her toes and instinctively pull her hips forward.

She immediately pushed them back at Neil and the spanking continued.

It stung like the devil, but at the same time, the pain suffused her with heat and need. Her clit throbbed. Her pussy ached as it got even wetter. The ring in her labia felt like a great, teasing, delicious weight. At first she tried to count the blows, but soon her brain refused to deal with anything that mundane and lost itself in the cycle of sting and sensual fire. Her hips rocked back and forth. Her head swam. Neil was crooning something as he spanked her, but while the words sounded sweet and dirty, she couldn’t focus on them.

When he switched from his hand to a wooden spoon, she yelped, but more because she was startled than anything. That felt great too—a different, more concentrated sensation, less intimate than Neil’s hand, but exciting in the way it packed the sensation into one small area. “Is that good?” Neil asked.

“Yes,” she moaned, surprised by how husky her voice sounded, how much like a woman already having an orgasm rather than spiraling toward one. “Oh, yes. Wouldn’t mind harder.”

A flurry of sharp wood blows followed, light but stinging. She danced in place, flinching instinctively, yet delighting in the blows, in the way pain and pleasure blurred.

Without warning, Neil switched back to his hand, one solid, thuddy spank. The warmth of his hand seared into her beautifully abused skin and reached places inside her she hadn’t even known existed.

Her body convulsed. Her cunt contracted around nothing. Her knees started to buckle from the force of an unexpected orgasm. She caught herself on the counter, still wobbling. Then Neil wrapped his arms around her, pressed himself over her body.

As she started to calm down, he pressed harder, the roughness of his jeans emphasizing how tender her ass was. One hand snaked between her legs to tug gently on her piercing then circle her clit.

Suzanne detonated again, crying out his name.

Neil didn’t even bother to undress, just opened his fly and, after a few minutes of rummaging that seemed like hours, put on a condom.

She didn’t ask where the condom came from, didn’t especially care. She wished she’d gotten a good look at his cock, but right now what mattered was he was in her, long and thick and fierce. It felt like she’d been waiting for this all her life. One hand pressed on her upper back, pushing her onto the counter, the other gripped her hip almost savagely. He didn’t bother starting slow or building up gradually. Just pistoned into her and it was just what she needed at that moment. The slap of his hips against her sore ass, the slight abrasion of the zipper, reminded her over and over again of the spanking. She couldn’t move, just feel and react, and that was just fine with her.

The hand that had been holding her against the counter grabbed her ponytail, forcing her head back. She arched, clenching even more. “I want to feel you come on my cock.” Neil’s voice shivered on her skin, rough and beautiful. “Can you do that for me?”

Car photo (c) Bodnarchuk/BigStock.com

Car photo (c) Bodnarchuk/BigStock.com

He’s a kinky dream come true—and her only protection from danger.

Eight months after her (cheating, almost-ex) husband’s death, Suzanne Mayhew has a plan to move on with her life. First step: sell off Frank’s classic cars, starting with the red vintage Mustang convertible he never let her drive. Second step: get her unexplored kink on with a delicious younger man.

Preferably the one an old friend sends around, ostensibly to check out the Mustang. Neil Callahan—Boston cop, Dom, fifteen years her junior.

Neil feels the mutual sizzle, but if the blush staining her cheeks is any indication, her flirting skills are a little rusty. Though his instinct tells him to take things slow with the recent widow, he can’t resist inviting her along for a test drive—for the whole weekend.

Throwing caution to the wind, Suzanne takes him up on it. But they’re barely out of the driveway when Neil’s cop instincts kick in. They’ve got a tail…and it looks dangerously like her ex’s secrets looming large—and deadly—in their rear-view mirror.

Warning: Spies, lies and vile bad guys. A meddling BFF. Inappropriate use of kitchen tools. Completely appropriate use of rope and floggers. Your mileage may vary, depending on battery life.

Samhain / Amazon US / Amazon UK / Barnes & Noble /Kobo / iTunes/iBooks /Google Play /All Romance Ebooks


7 Feb 2016

Another snippet from DRIVE

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. No Comments

Photo (C) Yastremka, courtesy of BigStock.com

Photo (C) Yastremka, courtesy of BigStock.com. Obviously NOT the Mustang from my story, but I like the photo.


Can you tell I’m getting excited about this release? Tuesday, my friends. Tuesday!

Suzanne’s knuckles were white as she made her way through the herd of mountain bikers, but she was already having fun.

By the time she’d been on the highway for half an hour, she had second thoughts about selling the Mustang. The power of the engine, the warm leather seats, the sheer fun of driving something so big and red and shiny, something that turned heads. She snapped another car selfie when they stopped for coffee and sent it to Janice with the text SELL OR KEEP?

Janice might just urge her to keep it, if only as a form of revenge through good living. And this car was definitely good living. No wonder Frank had loved it so much. Damn selfish of him not to share it with her.

Then again, he hadn’t shared much with her. Neil had already opened up more in the short drive than Frank typically would in a year. Not that Neil was a chatterbox, but she’d learned from his words that he’d inherited his grandparents’ two-family house in Dorchester, and that he and his father, a retired cop, restored cars and other vehicles together. The vintage motorcycle he’d arrived on was one of their projects.

And she knew from his eyes and the inflections of his voice that he loved his father, even though he’d told a few hilarious stories about them butting heads.

She knew he was dedicated to his work, knew he wasn’t a detective yet, but hoped to be one within the year.

From the way his big hand stroked the dashboard or the leather seat when he thought she wasn’t looking, she could tell that he lusted after the Mustang, but the smile that lit up his incredible blue eyes told her he enjoyed watching her getting acquainted with a car that was technically hers, but that she hadn’t enjoyed until now.

She wondered if Janice would playfully suggest keeping Neil or selling him. He’d been in the picture too.

Suzanne would keep him if that were an option. Alas, it probably wasn’t.


Car photo (c) Bodnarchuk/BigStock.com

Car photo (c) Bodnarchuk/BigStock.com

He’s a kinky dream come true—and her only protection from danger.

Eight months after her (cheating, almost-ex) husband’s death, Suzanne Mayhew has a plan to move on with her life. First step: sell off Frank’s classic cars, starting with the red vintage Mustang convertible he never let her drive. Second step: get her unexplored kink on with a delicious younger man.

Preferably the one an old friend sends around, ostensibly to check out the Mustang. Neil Callahan—Boston cop, Dom, fifteen years her junior.

Neil feels the mutual sizzle, but if the blush staining her cheeks is any indication, her flirting skills are a little rusty. Though his instinct tells him to take things slow with the recent widow, he can’t resist inviting her along for a test drive—for the whole weekend.

Throwing caution to the wind, Suzanne takes him up on it. But they’re barely out of the driveway when Neil’s cop instincts kick in. They’ve got a tail…and it looks dangerously like her ex’s secrets looming large—and deadly—in their rear-view mirror.

Warning: Spies, lies and vile bad guys. A meddling BFF. Inappropriate use of kitchen tools. Completely appropriate use of rope and floggers. Your mileage may vary, depending on battery life.

Samhain / Amazon US / Amazon UK / Barnes & Noble /Kobo / iTunes/iBooks /Google Play /All Romance Ebooks

6 Feb 2016

#MySexySaturday “A Sexy Encounter” from DRIVE

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. 1 Comment


The theme for this week’s My Sexy Saturday blog hop is “a sexy encounter.” Luckily Drive (out 2/9–that’s Tuesday, folks!) is full of them. Here’s a taste of the first time Neil and Suzanne start to get naked and kinky together.


His cock strained so hard against his fly that he swore he could count each tooth of the zipper as it pressed against him. He eased away from the kiss, but only far enough to slide his hands to the hem of her shirt. “I want you naked,” he said, and it sounded like a groan and a prayer wrapped together with hemp rope.

“I want to be naked. And I wanted you out of those clothes about five seconds after I met you.” She clamped her lips together as soon as she said it; as if she was astonished the words had come from her mouth. But her eyes sparkled, and she wriggled, helping Neil pull her shirt over her head.

Her bra was off-white, plain, not the kind of bra a woman wore on a hot date. He still thought it looked beautiful, or maybe more like she was beautiful and the bra, like her clothes, was irrelevant.

Her breasts would look better with his hands cupping them, not the bra.

Evidently she agreed, because Suzanne twisted her arms behind her back and the bra fell to the floor. “Normally I like to set the pace, undress you myself,” Neil said, “or tell you to do so. But I appreciate your enthusiasm. And the view.” Her breasts were neither model-perky nor model-huge. A little softness there, but like the subtle lines around her eyes, he liked that proof she wasn’t a girl, but a woman who knew what she wanted and had the experience to back up her choices. Her skin was fair, her stiff, deep rose nipples contrasting starkly. He could see the faded tan lines from the summer; although she had the body to rock a skimpy bikini, Suzanne was apparently a one-piece woman. He hoped it was because she was the type of person who didn’t want to worry about sand rash or one more place to protect a redhead’s sensitive skin, not the kind who was ashamed of a belly that had a slight curve to it, a hint of softness that he, personally, found sexy as hell. (Not that there was anything wrong with a more athletic build, either. Face it, he just liked women’s bodies.)

Neil moved behind her. The kitchen was narrow, the sort you found in older houses where they worried more about function than form, and she had to step closer to the counter to allow him to do it. He didn’t need to say anything. She seemed to read his body language, his need. Yeah, her experience with kink might be years ago, but she had the right instincts. She could anticipate his needs and wishes from his body language, and they barely knew each other.

Hot like a jalapeño.

He reached around, cupping her breasts to pull her close, her bare back pressed against his chest. Dammit. He liked the mental game of stripping her while he stayed dressed, setting up a power dichotomy for their games, but right now, he wished he’d given up the mindfuck for that bit of extra skin-on-skin contact.

Car photo (c) Bodnarchuk, courtesy of BigStock

Drive buy links:

Samhain / Amazon US / Amazon UK / Barnes & Noble /Kobo / iTunes/iBooks /Google Play /All Romance Ebooks

Be sure to use the links below to visit everyone else who’s highlighting a sexy encounter for My Sexy Saturday! You might find the perfect weekend read.
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4 Feb 2016

A first taste of DRIVE–romantic suspense with a bit of kink (or is that kink with a bit of romantic suspense?)

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. 2 Comments

Car photo (c) Bodnarchuk/BigStock.com

Car photo (c) Bodnarchuk/BigStock.com

Neil had done this dance before, something more than a dozen times, less than a thousand. Done the dance of pretending to be doing anything on earth other than paying attention to potential criminal activity.

The difference between those times and this one?

For one, the many times he’d done it as part of his job, he’d been armed, and there’d been backup, even if the backup hadn’t always been close enough to do much good if, as his dad said, the excrement really hit the air-conditioner.

The bigger difference between just about any surveillance-type situation in police work and this one was that at work he had an idea why the person was behaving suspiciously. Knew, in general, if he was dealing with a known drug dealer or a possible burglar, a potential pedophile or a suspected murderer. This time, he had no clue what was going on, no idea why or how the guy may have followed them all the way to the Cape, or whether he was stalking Suzanne or himself. Not exactly reassuring to know so little, especially not when someone else was involved.

Was she an innocent bystander in whatever the hell was going on or did she know something? What did he really know about Suzanne Mayhew anyway, other than she’d inherited (supposedly) a gorgeous Mustang and she kissed like someone possessed by a succubus? Not a hell of a lot.

Part of his mind was wandering in all directions, but most of it was observing. No one else appeared to be watching him or Suzanne with intense interest, though he got a couple of glances. Suzanne’s car was definitely drawing admiring looks, but then people moved on. It was hard to keep track of all the people milling around the lot, not to mention he was more interested in keeping an eye on Suzanne and on the people in the gray Lincoln anyway. He waved at Suzanne, smiling goofily like a doting boyfriend and was rewarded with her blowing him a kiss.

Suddenly he felt very much like a doting boyfriend.

Which wasn’t helping his concentration.


He’s a kinky dream come true—and her only protection from danger.

Eight months after her (cheating, almost-ex) husband’s death, Suzanne Mayhew has a plan to move on with her life. First step: sell off Frank’s classic cars, starting with the red vintage Mustang convertible he never let her drive. Second step: get her unexplored kink on with a delicious younger man.

Preferably the one an old friend sends around, ostensibly to check out the Mustang. Neil Callahan—Boston cop, Dom, fifteen years her junior.

Neil feels the mutual sizzle, but if the blush staining her cheeks is any indication, her flirting skills are a little rusty. Though his instinct tells him to take things slow with the recent widow, he can’t resist inviting her along for a test drive—for the whole weekend.

Throwing caution to the wind, Suzanne takes him up on it. But they’re barely out of the driveway when Neil’s cop instincts kick in. They’ve got a tail…and it looks dangerously like her ex’s secrets looming large—and deadly—in their rear-view mirror.

Warning: Spies, lies and vile bad guys. A meddling BFF. Inappropriate use of kitchen tools. Completely appropriate use of rope and floggers. Your mileage may vary, depending on battery life.

Samhain / Amazon US / Amazon UK / Barnes & Noble /Kobo / iTunes/iBooks /Google Play /All Romance Ebooks

Photo (C) Stokkette / courtesy of BigStock.com

Photo (C) Stokkette / courtesy of BigStock.com

1 Feb 2016

Kripalu and musings on new beginnings

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. No Comments

Not for the first time, I started out a year by paying a visit to Kripalu, a yoga retreat center in the beautiful Berkshires of western Massachusetts. Once again, I went with a friend who’s been part of my life since junior high school, refreshing ourselves with a much-needed time out. It was astonishing in some ways to curl up in our shared room like we used to curl up during sleepovers–only this time talking about retirement (not that I’m planning to “retire” from writing and her retirement is more than a decade away, but planning is on her mind), the love and struggle of life with aging parents, how romance changes to solid love over the course of a long marriage, how our bodies are changing post-menopause. Yet it felt so right. She’s known me longer than anyone I know today except my mother.

I went to Kripalu dealing with what I thought was the remnants of a nasty cold (Unfortunately it turned out to be the start of a secondary bacterial infection and resulting asthma flare-up. Yuck!) Instead of the intensely physical time I’d originally planned, with hiking and vigorous vinyasa yoga filling my days, I concentrated on more gentle yoga, breathwork and meditation.


It was remarkably good for me.

One of the things I focused on was how to reinvigorate my writing, how to find the joy I used to feel when writing was my avocation, not my job. I have some ideas. You may see some different stories from me in the future along with the erotic romances you’ve come to expect. I’m writing poetry again. I’m remembering how to play and laugh as I create.

What will come of this on a professional level, I can’t say. But more joy is never a bad thing.


1 Feb 2016

Valentine’s Rewind!

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. 1 Comment

I’m brain-fried, so I’m blatantly copying most of this post from Tamsen Parker and Rebecca Grace Allen.


One romantic holiday. More than twenty fabulous authors. All your favorite stories.

It’s almost Valentine’s Day, and if there’s one thing we romance writers flock to, it’s anything involving love. (Well, that and chocolate, but that’s not just in February.) So what better way to get into the spirit of all things heart-shaped than to gather a bunch of us together, put pen to paper and revisit some of our favorite characters?

From February 8th through 12th , we’ll be sharing original pieces revisiting characters from old stories. Which characters? You won’t know until you read! It could be a deleted scene you never thought you’d get to see. A sex scene in a different character’s POV. A where-are-they-now vignette, or even secondary characters who never got their chance to bang…er, have a happily ever after.

(And boy, do I have some crazy ideas…Now I just have to figure out which to pursue.)

What else could possibly make this better? Free stuff! Some authors will have their own giveaways going, but we’ll also have one massive prize pack at the end of our frolic! One lucky winner will be the recipient of a boatload of awesomeness, including gift cards, signed paperbacks, ebooks, and other V-day swag.

What are the deets on your chance to win? All you’ve got to do is leave one little love note on each author’s post. On Valentine’s Day, we’ll pick one commenter at random to get the whole shabang. So make sure to check out the schedule below, and get ready for the 2016 Valentine’s Rewind Blog Hop!

*Website links will not be live until the hop begins!*

Monday 2/8

Tamsen Parker


Nicole Helm


Julia Kelly


Rebekah Weatherspoon


Adriana Anders



Tuesday 2/9

Zoe York


CJ Lemire


Alexis Anne


Jennifer Blackwood

Website ♥ TwitterFacebook

Wednesday 2/10

Rebecca Grace Allen


Emma Barry


Audra North


Kelly Maher


Jeanette Grey



Thursday 2/11

Karen Stivali


KK Hendin


Rebecca Paula


Alexandra Haughton


Kasey Lane


Friday 2/12

Amber Belldene


Jodie Griffin


Alyssa Cole


Suleikha Snyder


Teresa Noelle Roberts



22 Jan 2016

Kate Richards brings us HER COWBOY

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. 1 Comment

her cowboy cover

If you’re in the path of Winter Storm Jonas, you might want to download this book right away. A sexy spanking cowboy sounds like the perfect way to keep warm while the wind howls and the snow flies. And even if the forecast is for clear, pleasant weather, a little spicy reading is always fun.


Felicity Franceaux’s new position as head of the Corbin’s Bend emergency room meets all her expectations. A professional staff, challenging cases, and a home in a town where spanking is not only accepted but appreciated. But losing her late husband left her so heartbroken, she’s afraid to try again. But if she did, the guy next door sure has her attention.

John Estrada, former ranch foreman now successful cowboy novelist also likes what Corbin’s Bend has to offer, but he’s having a hard time letting go of life on the range for life in the Bend.

He’d like to get to know the pretty neighbor lady who never gives him more than a casual wave.

If only they could find a way to connect.


So long since she’d been so close to a man. Two years. Pierre smelled like soap and his expensive cologne du jour. Different, but his aura of strength, of command of any situation was the same.

“Tell me about your book.”

Resting his chin on her head, John sighed. “I don’t tell anyone about my stories until they’re done. Bad luck.”

“But I looked—”

“For a moment. I would have shut the screen down if I’d expected company.”

“Something you don’t want me to see?” What else did he have there? “Lurid sex scene?” He wouldn’t, would he? Was he a stalker? Stiffening, she stayed put but didn’t give him any encouragement. She’d just met the man, and here she was alone in his house.

How many times had emergency room visits resulted from such bad judgment on the part of her patients? Nobody knew she’d visited him…and the arm he wrapped around her shoulder held lean muscle; he could overpower her without even trying.

“Sex…no. No sex scene in this story. At least not yet.” He gave her a squeeze. “I don’t know you well enough.”

Her? Did he mean if he, if they…. Heat flooding her cheeks—again—she knew she should make her excuses and leave. But why didn’t she want to? Something about the man’s presence evoked a safety, security. Like Pierre, but her late, beloved husband had been older than her by ne thirty years. Such an age difference held a different feel than….

Than what? A casual conversation with the next door neighbor after dinner? Obviously she was too hard up and needed a quick visit with Cowboy to regain her balance.

“Oh…okay, well….” Casting her gaze around, she spotted a clock hanging on the wall above the flat screen TV. “Look at the time. If you won’t let me help with the dishes, I should get going. You must have a lot of writing to do yet this evening.”

He rubbed her arm. “What’s the matter, darlin’? Afraid I might try to use you for more intimate inspiration?”


Buy Links

Amazon / Blushing / Barnes and Noble



Reviewer: SH

01/21/2016 09:17am

An amazing love story with grown, mature adults who know what they want from life. John and Felicity are perfect for each other and their chemistry was off the chain! I also adored the story in the story, very clever :) Fantastic book!

Reviewer: nona

01/21/2016 06:39am

I enjoyed reading my cowboy, I was given this for a free review. I downloaded it, started reading and never stopped until finished. A little short , but it be nice to have some more on their new adventure. It was sweet story of two broken hearts come together over home made stew and bisque and thunder and lighting. So if your a fan of Corbin Bend. Then you won’t be disappointed.

Reviewer: pico1

01/21/2016 02:28am

Her Cowboy is another enjoyable Corbin’s Bend book – about a young widowed emergency room doctor who never expected to find love again, and a retired cowboy turned author. They meet, they develop a quick interest in each other and learn of a common interest in spanking, like most residents of Corbin’s Bend. After a separation and some misunderstandings, they come together again and move quickly to HEA. It is a good story about nice people finding love; I only wish it had been a little longer and more developed, because I liked both characters.

Reviewer: Laurel Loughman

01/20/2016 09:51pm

As usual, this was another great addition to the Corbin’s Bend saga. Felicity seems like an overworked but lonely young doctor who is still grieving the loss of her husband. And John is a lonely cowboy trying to transition from a lifelong career of working on a ranch to a budding author in a small town. The two spend months peeping in each other’s windows and are finally thrown together. It is definitely desire at first sight if not love. John and Felicity seem to get off to a slow and rough start, but once they get started, nothing is slow. I truly enjoyed this new edition to one of my favorite neighborhoods.


Author Contact Info

Facebook Fan Page http://on.fb.me/14Vqx48

Kate Richards Author FB: http://on.fb.me/1nfjxKy

Goodreads Page http://bit.ly/19yVcWh

Twitter http://bit.ly/17AeWeM

Also by Kate Richards

Finally, My Love

Demons Love Cinnamon

Christmas Afternoon Delight

The Vampire’s Bard

Pirate Lady Holiday

Spanking Ms. Whitman

Dungeon Time

Switch, The Trainer

Confessions From the Carnivore Club, Dave and Nancy’s Story

Sierra Seduction

Sensual Delights A Cookie Club Romance

Sci Spanks 2014

Spank or Treat 2014

Love Spanks 2015

The Duchess’s Handmaiden (Coming Soon)


Stories published at Decadent Publishing

One Night on the Beach

Avalon for Christmas

The Virgin and the Playboy

The Virgin and the Best Man

Two Men and a Virgin

Two Men

Virgin Under Ground

Gale Force Passion

Trail of Hearts

The Milkman Cometh

Madame Eve’s Gift

Frontier Inferno

Lily in Chains

Terci in Chains

Box of 1Night Stands: 21 Sizzling Nights

Box of 1Night Stands: 17 Sizzling Nights

The Virgin Series

An Apple Away

The One That Almost Got Away (Coming Soon)

Agent in Chains (Coming Soon)

Haunting Suspicions

All’s Fair



At Beachwalk Press

It’s Just Love


At Blushing Books

Kimmy, Love’s Reprise Anthology

For Ben – Corbin’s Bend Series

Educating Marguerite –A historical Western tale

Roy and Teri’s Accidental Staycation – Corbin’s Bend Series




13 Jan 2016

LeTeisha Newton visits with ONE HOUR GIRL (NSFW, but do I really need to say that?)

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. 1 Comment

Lost Series Banner

One Hour Girl, The Lost Series Book #1

Genre: Comtemporary Romance

From International Bestselling Author, LeTeisha Newton, February 29th, 2016!

Celeste Askew isn’t perfect. Not by far. Her childhood was dark and destructive, her family torn apart by greed and secrets.

So she learned to cope.

During her days she’s a paralegal in a prestigious firm. But by night, she’s an escort, addicted to dangerous situations, rough sex, and money. This is what she knows, what she craves, and what keeps her stable.

Ms. Perfection is kept happy because Ms. Whore keeps the darkness at bay.

Until she meets Royce Mattherson, L.A.’s most eligible bachelor, and billionaire. No that his life was much better. His past was just as dark, just as twisted, and they find that they can give each other those dirty moments. Love wasn’t supposed to be a part of it.

It never was.

Her heart is off limits, and he doesn’t have one to give. The found a way to break the rules anyway.

OHG Post Images_Synopsis

He thinks I’m his forever girl, I saw it in his eyes. I wished I could have slapped the look off his face and hit him with the same jarring finality I’d learned I didn’t mean shit.

I’m not a forever sort of girl.

I’m not even his for the night.

He’ll be lucky if I’m his for the next hour if he doesn’t pay me for it.

And then Royce Mattherson stormed my defenses. Took all the poison inside of me and pushed it out through my pores. He tasted the taint on my skin and still decided to love me. He terrifies me. Exhilarates me. Frustrates me.

And he always gets what he wants.



OHG Post Images_Excerpt

I watched Celeste’s eyes widen and she tried to shift from under me, coming out of the daze as she looked over at the hustling waiter. I gripped her hips, pinning her beneath me.

“You aren’t going anywhere,” I assured her. “You seemed to have ruined my dinner, and I’m famished.”

I licked my lips, feeling desire and pride swell within me as her gaze tracked my movement and a warm flush appeared under her skin. I pressed my hips between her legs, hissing at the heat of her pussy against my cloth covered cock.

“I think I’ve found something to eat…right…here,” I told her, letting go of her hip to push my hand between us and cup her sex.

She moaned, head tossed back. I waited long enough for the waiter to run behind the counter and away before I claimed her mouth again. This was my place, my money, my rules. No one would disturb us, and I wanted to see how wild she could get. I wanted to control her.

I rubbed my fingers against her in a circular motion as I devoured her mouth. She gripped at my jacket, pushing it off my shoulders. It couldn’t fall to the floor because I wouldn’t stop caressing her, but it was out of her way enough that she went for my shirt next. Buttons popped as she ripped my shirt open and ran her nails down my chest.

Ground zero.

My cock was hard and pulsing in my pants. I moved my hand from between us and ground against her. She cried out, rolling her hips against me. I liked that. I fucking loved how she gave into her passion. She didn’t fight it, she didn’t apologize for it. The way she responded to me made me feel like a god.

I sucked my way down the side of her neck, paying attention to any hitch of breath, and shift of her body. I noticed that her nails dug when I nipped over her pulse. She sucked in a breath when I traced her cleavage with my tongue. Her breath rushed out in a whoosh when I pulled the neck of her dress down far enough to suck her nipple into my mouth, bra and all.

I noted it all, and logged it to memory. She was mine. So what if it didn’t make sense? So what if I was fighting an uphill battle against a woman who didn’t believe in giving herself. We weren’t talking about love. We were talking about enjoying a spark with another person that we’d never feel again.

I could give her everything she needed, but the emotions. She just needed to learn that people like us? That’s all we needed. I let her nipple go long enough to pull her into my arms and force the dress up and over her head. I tossed the dress over my shoulder as I used my other hand to pop her bra. By the time she lay back on the table she only had her delicate black thong and heels on.


Her breasts were slightly rosy with desire. It was such a pretty color against her bronze flesh. I captured her slightly darker nipple in my mouth, grinding my hips against her. Her fingers tunneled through my hair as she held me to her. Rolling her nipple with my tongue just to hear her cry out again, I traced the inside of her thighs.

“So pretty. How good will you taste?” I asked her. I kissed my way down over her stomach, stopping long enough to dip my tongue in her navel. Her body shook under my hands. Or maybe it was my hands. I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. The most important thing for me was to drink her down. To hear her scream my name.

I nuzzled her groin. It was bare, and the skin there was smooth. I nipped the sensitive flesh and then licked away the sting. Her skin was like spun honey, sticky and moist, and so fucking amazing. The crease on the inside of her thigh where it met her groin demanded attention and I followed the line down with my tongue.

I took a moment to sit back and grab my chair. I sat back down and looked at her pussy. My breath came out hard and raspy as I admired the tight lips and nub peeking out from its hood. Moisture leaked out of her, making her shine. All for me. I’d done that. Gripping the backs of her thighs, I pushed her legs up and out.

“Royce—” she started by I popped her ass to shut her up.

“You chose this, and it’s what I want. Has anyone, ever, just pleased you? Have you ever had someone who couldn’t think of their own pleasure because it was intrinsically combined with yours?”

She stared at me, so I popped her ass again.

“Answer me.”

“No,” she said finally. “Never.”

“You won’t be able to say that after tonight,” I promised her.


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Add the book to your TBR Pile on Goodreads HERE!


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Writing professionally since 2008, LeTeisha has spanned from Fantasy to Interracial Romance on her road to getting the jumping characters out of her head. Most days she’s pretty color blind, unless it’s a great shade of red (then she can’t ignore it). Other times she’s plotting her next twenty books and then remembering that the computer can’t read her thoughts and doesn’t type at lightning speed. Either way, she just can’t seem to get enough of quill to paper…or eh…keyboard strokes, apparently.


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11 Jan 2016

2015 Recap

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. 1 Comment


Photo by George Hodan.

Photo by George Hodan..

2015 was the year that I had to admit my beloved mother is old and frail and…well, mortal. One knows parents are mortal, but one stays relatively sane and happy by not thinking about it, right? 2015 marked the point I could no longer pretend. At the same time, one of our beloved cats–Rumble, the largest, friendliest, most magnificent cat I’ve been privileged to love in a lifetime of living with them–fell ill with something our vet couldn’t diagnose and slowly declined. We lost him in the summer. I firmly believe that everything that dies will be reborn in some form, if only because matter and energy change forms but don’t vanish, but watching a slow, protracted dying when there’s not a damn thing you can do is depressing. Watching the cat was bad enough, but I was also watching my mother lose mobility and independence–she gave up driving this year, for instance. Talk about a recipe for morbid melancholy.

Add to that some health issues, the fun of menopause (which isn’t technically a health issue in itself, but can trigger some) and some financial stress and let’s just say much of 2015 passed in a blur of gray despite some genuinely good times. The mental fog wasn’t exactly great for my physical fitness or my social life and as you can probably imagine, it interfered with my writing.

Yeah, when I was thinking of bountiful possibilities, I hadn’t figured on depression being one of them. Silly me.

In the last few months, things have turned around. Coincidentally or not, the turnaround started just before Samhain/Halloween, which was the ancient Celtic New Year. My mother is still a frail old woman, but most of the time, I can accept this and be thankful she’s still with us, still in sound mind, and still the same wonderful self-described “stealth freak” she always has been, even if she has to do it in a much more limited arena these days. We still miss Rumble, but Xia the white blur of feline energy and adorable but retiring black and white Tinkerbelle joined the family in October. (Tink’s so shy we want to cheer when she comes out of the basement–but that would scare her so we don’t. Xia, on the other hand, was named after the heroine of Bad Kitty for many reasons: she’s adorable, charming and dangerous, at least to toys and furniture.) I got back to yoga and started playing outside again. The Cat-Herder and I are able to be more playful and joyous together, even though he’s dealing with some major work stress right now. The finances are looking better and so is our attitude about them. And I’ve written more words since December started, even with the holidays and other outside commitments, than I had in the previous six months.

Xia, looking calm for her.

Xia, looking calm for her.


Tinkerbelle engaged in her favorite activity, eating wet food.

2016 is looking good so far. I’m calling it the Year of Joy and Rebuilding and I’ll be talking more about those notions in an upcoming post. For now, Happy New Year. If your 2015 was great, may the awesome streak continue. If it wasn’t, may this new year give you inspiration to start regrouping.

19 Dec 2015

A flash of Christmas Stockings for #MySexySaturday

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. No Comments

Christmas stockings cover 172dpilarge

I’m apparently ending 2015 in the same way I’ve spent most of it: behind on everything and trying frantically to catch up. Consider this post part of my catching up efforts. I released a holiday novella, Christmas Stockings, earlier this month, but I haven’t added it to this site yet! So when the My Sexy Saturday blog hop said this week’s theme was Our Sexy Holidays, I knew I had to “hop” in.

This sexy novella features Jen and Drake from Out of Control getting kinky–after surviving a holiday party from hell. Warning: Academic obtuseness, artistic obsessions, glass-blowing metaphors, a lot of color-coordinated rope, a little pain-play and a pair of incendiary stockings.

Handsome man in tuxedo, wearing glasses.  Caption: Drake looked like her idea of the perfect holiday gift, her very own martial artist/movie star/mathemathical genius Dom.

Photo copyright Viorel Sima / courtesy of Bigstock


Seven sexy sentences to give you a taste of the story.

Jen hiked up her skirt and slithered the tiny thong down over her ass. Drake studied her every move. How could the gray of his eyes looked that heated? She’d been trying ever since she met him to figure out that implausible tone shift, but usually the fevered look and even hotter actions that followed it broke her down before she could get very far. Tonight was no exception.

She was bent over, the panties halfway down her thighs, when Drake stalked in behind her. One hand gripped the hair at the back of her neck, tugging her upright.


This Christmas is out of control!
Reconnect with Jen and Drake from Out of Control in this standalone short holiday novella.
Artist Jen’s striped holiday stockings factor in her mathematician husband—and Dominant—Drake’s equation for a delightfully kinky evening. What goes better with striped stockings than a striped ass, after all?
But first they have to survive Jen’s first faculty black-tie holiday party.
Jen, with her wild hair and wilder stockings, doesn’t mind standing out. But she’s not so crazy about standing out as the only person at the party without a college degree. Accomplished artist or not, that’ll raise eyebrows in academia. She doesn’t want to reflect badly on Drake, but she’s also not about to let snobbery go unchallenged.
Who knew going commando except for a garter belt could give a submissive the courage she needs to be herself in an uncomfortable environment—at least with her hot Dominant by her side?
And who knew the rewards for becoming the unlikely toast of the Mathematics Department party would be just what Jen wanted for Christmas?

Amazon US

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5 Dec 2015

My Sexy Saturday Blog Hop: A Sexy Galaxy

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. No Comments

cover for the science fiction romance Bad Kitty: sexy cat-girl against a background of stars

This week’s theme at My Sexy Saturday is “A Sexy Galaxy.” With two science-fiction romances under my belt and another in the works, I could hardly resist. Here’s another snippet from Bad Kitty, in which the felinoid heroine Xia finds herself, during a tense pre-combat moment, worrying about her growing feelings for the two males in her life. Fretting that she likes her hot lovers a bit too much beats worrying about dying, right? That’s what a felinoid would say!
She admitted as she stared at Karn’s intent face while he piloted the flyer—sadly it wasn’t a Fiero or one of the other zippy, sporty models, but the boring kind that no one would look at twice—spending nonsexy time with Karn had merits. There was a mystery to Karn the Viking, but it felt like a good mystery, as though his deep secret was he was a nice guy at heart, and Xia wanted to get to the bottom of it.

She shook her head. What kind of space dust was that? Flirting could be a pleasant distraction from the gritty business at hand, but getting to know a guy better had never been her style. Especially not when “getting to know” wasn’t another way of saying “getting naked with”.

Not that she wouldn’t get naked with him again in a Xylac minute. And Xylac minutes were only forty-two Standard seconds.

Stars, what was getting into her these days? First Rahal, now Karn. Two potential repeats, two lovers whom she actually liked and wanted to get to know better. Freaky.

Assassins after her? All in a day’s play.

Practicing vigilante justice on a notoriously lawless planet? Sounds like fun.

Actually valuing her lovers for more than their bodies and their entertainment value? Terrifying. Marling terrifying.

bad kitty teaser 4 plotty

Blurb and more book info:

When you make the Devil’s bargain, be prepared to take the heat. A lot of heat.

Most of Xia’s early memories are repressed, thank the Great Cat Mother. But her body remembers how to kill.

The longer she and her fellow Malcolm crewmates are holed up on Cibari hiding from assassins, the twitchier she gets—until the planet’s insanely sexy Warlord, Rahal Mizyar, borrows her skills to take out slavers.

Rahal suspects Xia is his mate, but the human-raised female never learned the finer points of felinoid rituals. The solution: make her fall hard and fast for him, even if it means playing dirty.

Hired to determine if Xia is the long-missing granddaughter of the felinoid prime minister, Cal Janssen has finally tracked her down. Getting past Rahal, though, is a problem—until he’s mistaken for a notorious arms dealer and playboy. And he finds himself the object of both Rahal’s and Xia’s seduction.

When their first mission brings Xia’s memories bulleting back to the surface, she realizes she’s fallen for two men who don’t exist. Running away, however, could be her deadliest mistake.

Product Warnings
Contains an assassin with a swiss cheese memory, a badass warlord who’s getting tired of his own con, and a freelance lawman. Secrets, lies, and hot sex with no rules.

Buy Links: Samhain / Amazon US / Amazon UK /Kobo / Barnes and Noble / All Romance Ebooks

Be sure to visit all the other Sexy Saturday participants!

23 Nov 2015

Arla Dahl presents THE WATCHMAN (Immoral Virtue, book 3)

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. 2 Comments

Arla Dahl pays a visit today with The Watchman, the culmination of the Immoral Virtue Trilogy. It mnorphs the dark and twisted history of European witch trials into something that’s just as dark and twisted, but a lot sexier and more entertaining to read about. Face it, the Salem witch trials weren’t exactly fun unless you were a sadistic-in-the-pathological-sense psycho with a place in the legal system or the church.  Arla’s version, on the other hand, offers the readers a lot of sexy fun–and erotic rewards for the characters to balance moments where they face their darkest fears.


The final installment in the Immoral Virtue Trilogy is here at last!

The Watchman (Immoral Virtue, Book 3) Cover

“Totally worth the wait! THE WATCHMAN was so hot and satisfying.
The perfect conclusion to this trilogy.”
— Smart Mouth Smut

The Watchman - Back Cover Blurb


(Immoral Virtue, #3)

Evil is found when evil is sought

For when those in authority neglect to reprove sin, then very often the good are punished with the wicked.”
– Heinrick Kramer, 1486, The Malleus Maleficarum

For yielding to the proud tears of an accused witch, The Watchman’s soul may have been blackened by evil. To prove himself unmarked, his body free of the witch’s branding, he must stand naked before all and submit to the governor’s thorough and shameful examination.

Though Giles Scott would resist the governor’s practiced and patient touch, only complete abandon might prove his innocence. And since the witch cannot feel, only Giles’ arousal can spare his neck from the noose. And so, he surrenders.

Yet screams from another chamber – perhaps pained, perhaps pleasured – awaken memories from Giles’ dark, torturous past, and the governor’s touch no longer teases but stings… much like the punishing bite of a whip against the flesh of

The Watchman - NEW RELEASE! - Excerpt

“I will take only that which you offer.” He went to her, watched as she skimmed her fingertips from her throat to her breast as he had urged her to do earlier. As he vowed to do himself had he been unbound.

And now, free of the shackles, he took a step closer to her. “What do you offer, Elizabeth?”

“I offer all for you to take.” Her voice was near a whisper, a flutter of air, mesmerizing him near as much as her body bared there before him.

She smoothed her hand lower, a slight brush of her fingertips over her belly, the ripple of her touch pebbling her flesh in tiny bumps of pleasure, pleasure that made his bound cock reach for her. “I would have your hands against me like so,” she said, and with a slowness that pained him, she dipped her hand lower still, to the ruddy thatch he wished to touch and taste. “Your fingers thrust inside of me.” She stroked the tight curls there, tangled her fingers within them. “I offer all of me,” she said, “whatever you wish me to share.”

“Spread yourself for me Elizabeth. Share that part of yourself with me.”

She did not move and he raised his gaze to hers. Saw desire within it, was certain his held the same haze of need. Her breaths grew heavy, her breasts heaving, capturing his attention.

I receive copy

He reached for her, strummed his fingertips over the swell of her breasts, gently brushing his thumbs over her nipples until they stood firm. The hard nubs seeming to swell as he held them, as he lightly pinched them and used them to pull her to him, not letting go even when she stood so close the head of his cock brushed her belly.

“Do it, Elizabeth,” he whispered, pulsing his fingers against her nipples, lightly, firmly, stroking them in time to her breaths. “Spread yourself so I might see more of you.”

With a sigh, she reached between them, between her legs, and spread herself, her body swaying, his fingers tightening on her nipples, holding her in place. Watching her eyes, then lowering his to see how well she spread herself for him.

He stood back so he might see. “Wider,” he said, his voice thick with need.

Male/Male - Do not think, but feel.

She adjusted her stance, her feet further apart, her fingers peeling herself open further, exposing glistening, blush-pink flesh from which he wished to sip. Her graceful inner lips were delicately frilled, like petals on the most succulent flower. Her core, weeping with desire.

He drew closer to her again, brushed his fingertips over her lips then gently parted them and dipped into her mouth. Her tongue, hot, stroked over his fingers, wetted them. And he withdrew, fitted his hand to her waiting core.

Desire barely tamed, he eased two fingers into her, steadily, yet so slowly, they seemed twice as long, sliding yet deeper into her heat. The slickness on his fingers mingling with the slickness of her need. Her body closing around him, the tightness there, gripping him. His mouth grew dry as she moaned softly. Her breaths, small puffs of heat against his cheek.

He withdrew as slowly, taking his time, watching as passion etched her face, furrowed her brows, parted her lips further.

His cock ached now as it seemed to plead for the same pleasures enjoyed by his fingers. And then he pulled them from her completely, held them near her core, felt the heat of her as if to draw them back inside. He brought his hand to her lips again, let her taste herself.

She closed her eyes, took his fingers into her mouth, licked them tenderly, until he could take no more and he withdrew again.

“I wish to taste you myself,” he said, his gaze on her mouth. “Do you offer yourself so, Elizabeth, that I might dine?”

Release Blitz What's Inside

THE WATCHMAN, Book 3 in the Immoral Virtue Trilogy is a dark erotic twist of an already twisted period in American History, the Salem witch trials. It contains elements of BDSM, forced consent, M/m, ménage, M/f/f, M/f/m and M/f as well as other sensitive concepts such as forced consent and spanking.

THE WATCHMAN is intended for audiences 18 and over.

The Watchman - About the Author

Arla Dahl is a lover and avid reader of all things sexy and suspenseful. Her inspiration comes as much from history as from the daily headlines, and she is often surprised by how today’s issues mirror those from the distant past. In her current work, the Immoral Virtue trilogy, which is set during the witch hysteria of the 17th Century, Arla twists an already twisted history into a daring erotic work of passion and pleasure.

A New Yorker, born and bred, Arla is forever fascinated by the varied cultures of her city – and the exotic foods that go along with them, with their rich flavors and provocative scents that tempt and tease and satisfy. Beyond its rich diversity and decadent cusines, the close and heady feel of a moody late-night jazz club is Arla’s favorite part of living in New York.

Find Arla on FACEBOOK, TWITTER, Google+, Amazon, her blog: NOTES FROM ARLA and her website: http://www.arladahl.com



Book 1 – The Mark

Book 2 – The Accused

Book 3 – The Watchman

Immoral Virtue Trilogy Book Covers


12 Nov 2015

Check out Kayla Lords’s new book Sir and Babygirl: Family Ties

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. 1 Comment

It’s always … interesting meeting your new sweetie’s family for the first time. When you have an unconventional relationship–say, lifestyle D/s–it adds a whole new level of awkwardness, as Kayla Lords demonstrates in the excerpt below. (I know, I know, I usually do the smutty excerpts, but I loved this one for the rich glimpse it offered of the characters.

Sir and Babygirl: Family Ties (Book 3)


Johnathan is ready to take his relationship with Katie to a whole new level. His kids are away at college, and his sister has moved out. After months together, discovering their love and a D/s relationship as Sir and Babygirl that works for them, it’s time to meet the extended family.

Will Babygirl be able to move past her own anxieties? Can they survive the expectations of their families? And what happens to Sir and Babygirl next? Find out in the third set of adventures between a loving Dominant man and his willing and eager Babygirl.

Price: $1.99

Word Count: 17,400

Purchase Links:

Amazon: http://mybook.to/SBFT

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/2033HE8

Smashwords: http://bit.ly/1i8OcZ9

iBook: http://apple.co/1GDA9X7


“Johnny? Is that you?”

Babygirl quirked an eyebrow up as the corner of her mouth twitched with suppressed humor. Johnny? Sir shook his head in response. Don’t even think about it, little girl was the message.

“Yeah, Ma, it’s us.”

The rusty screen door opened revealing a petite elderly woman dressed in a purple peasant top and jeans with rhinestones running down one leg. Her flip-flops and toe nail polish were a perfect match for her blouse. Babygirl bit her bottom lip and looked around at the front porch. This must be his mother, Estelle.

“Come here and give us a hug, Johnny!” Looking at Babygirl, she smiled. “Is this her, Johnny? Is this your new love?”

Sir stooped down to hug his mom who quickly let him go and grabbed Babygirl, hugging her tight. Not a small woman herself, Babygirl had to bend down for the hug. When Estelle tried to kiss her cheek, Babygirl pulled back slightly, uncomfortable with such displays of affection from a virtual stranger.

“Well, come in, come in!”

The two stood on the front stoop for a second.

“Johnny?!” Babygirl’s whisper of disbelief was tinged with humor. “And where exactly is your mom from?”

Sir sighed. “Yes, Johnny, and Brooklyn.”

Babygirl giggled. “Okay, Johnny.”

As she stepped towards the front door, Sir grabbed her arm. Through gritted teeth, he muttered, “Do not call me that again. Ever.”

Babygirl sputtered a quick apology and pulled away to hide her hurt. Sir sighed and pulled her closer.

“Sorry, Baby- I mean, Katie. I hate that name, and my mother is the only one who can get away with it.”

She snuggled close, glad to know where his annoyance came from. “It’s okay, Sir, damn it, Johnathan. I won’t call you Johnny.” With a gleam in her eye, she said, “But I may be required to tease you about it from time to time.”

Sir’s soft growl was interrupted by the piercing voice of his mother.

“Johnny? Are you coming in or not? Eh, Johnny?”

Babygirl giggled. The sound was quickly followed by a squeak as Sir swatted her ass on their way through the door. “Watch it, girl. No matter what my mother calls me, I’m still your Sir.”


About Kayla Lords

Kayla is a full-time writer, sex blogger, erotic author, and babygirl submissive. When she’s not writing about BDSM from her perspective, she’s coming up with kinky sex scenes and waiting for her own Dominant to give her a much-needed spanking.

Follow Kayla on Twitter (@KaylaLords) or over at her website (KaylaLords.com) where there’s always something kinky to read.

3 Nov 2015

Guest Post: CONVICTION by S. Usher Evans

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. No Comments

razia cover

Now available – Conviction, the third book in the Razia series! Catch up on this fun, sassy space opera about a wayward scientist living a double life as a space pirate bounty hunter.

Missed the first two? Pick them up on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iBooks, Smashwords, and Kobo.

About Conviction:


Razia is in trouble. Captured by a fellow pirate, she now finds herself back on probation with a bounty worth zero credits. In the cold reality, she begins to question herself and everything she has been working towards all of her life–and what she’s willing to do to reclaim her glory.

Piracy is a game. What do you stand for?

Buy now on


Barnes and Noble




Conviction (Razia, #3)

Sneak Peek:

Razia’s eyes snapped open and she grasped at the wall to steady herself. She stood outside the supposed poker game location, in a dimly lit alley that smelled like trash. There was something wet leaking from the bin next to her, so she didn’t dare sit down. She had fallen asleep against the dirty brick wall for a split second, but was now wide awake and ready for Loeb to come out.

The door remained closed.

Poker, she reasoned, must be Loeb’s chosen vice because he’d been there playing this game for over an hour. She wondered how many times he’d have to go to Temple to ask the Great Creator for forgiveness for this break in his piety.

She snorted at her own joke then burped a little beer. She rubbed her face roughly, hoping the increased blood flow would wake her up. She wished she hadn’t had that that third beer (or however many she had from Sage’s pitcher) at Eamon’s, she wished she had some coffee, and she wished Loeb would just get a move on already. She had other pirates to capture, and he was being awfully selfish with her time.

She jutted her lip out and stared at the door, and her eyes began drooping again.

Her mini-computer began buzzing at her hip and she jumped ten feet. Scowling, she answered it without thinking.

“What.” She blinked at the face looking back at her and for a brief moment saw Vel. With another shake of her head she realized it was Heelin scowling back at her. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Yes, it’s me.” Heelin looked nothing short of livid. “The brother with whom you are supposed to be working.”

She grimaced. “Oh God in Leveman’s, I don’t have time for this.”

“Well you’d better make time, because this stupid planet was approved for membership, so Dorst wants me to accompany you on your next excavation.”

Excavation, what was that again? She rubbed her eyes, trying to make sense of the word. Slowly, her brain readjusted from a month of bounty hunting back to her life as Lyssa Peate.

Wait…Heelin wanted to go on an excavation with her? “I don’t think so.”

“I think that you have to since Dorst ordered you to.”

“I think that Dorst can get sucked.”

“What is with you lately? You look different.”

“I…what?” she said, looking down at the mini-computer.

“And where are you anyway? Are you in some kind of dark alley? Where are your glasses?”

Razia realized with a jolt of fear that she was, in fact, Razia and not Lyssa—her hair down, no lab coat, no glasses.

“Uh…gotta go!”

She ended the call quickly and breathed a sigh of relief. She didn’t expect Heelin to recognize Razia from just a simple phone call. Unlike Lizbeth, who was sharp as a tack and made the connection almost immediately, the Peates seemed more eager to ignore that Lyssa ever existed.

Like Jukin.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, hating herself and her drunkenness for bringing him up. She still had no idea why she’d saved him. She’d told Lizbeth at the time it was because she wanted to believe he was a good person, but there was more to it than that. She was still harboring a little bit of guilt that she had been chosen as Sostas’ assistant, and not Jukin.

And perhaps she felt a little responsible for everything Jukin had done.

She belched loudly in the alleyway, ending the drunken philosophical train of thought. In some part of her mind, she wondered if it was a good idea to be out in her current state, but then again, she was simply stalking Loeb. He wasn’t going to surprise her and walk out…

Her eyes nearly fell out of her head as Jarvis Loeb exited the bar all by himself.

She braced herself against the wall, waiting to see if his body men were going to join him. Loeb got almost a block before she realized that he was alone. Whether this was some great twist of fate, or maybe some gift from the Great Creator, she didn’t know, but it was definitely an opportunity.

She nearly tripped over her own two feet as she barreled after him, the beer sloshing in her stomach uncomfortably.

“OI!” she called out, standing in the middle of the deserted street.

Loeb turned to watch her with an amused look on his face. “Hello there, dear. Are you here to capture me finally?”

“Sure am!” she announced, perhaps louder than she should have.

She walked up to Loeb, who seemed awfully sober to her, and she reared back her fist to strike him. But she was moving so slow—slower than ever—and Loeb easily ducked it. She lurched forward, her center of gravity completely off, and watched the pavement fly up towards her face.

Loeb’s hand clamped down on her wrist and she felt cold steel encircle it.

About the Author

S. Usher Evans is an author, blogger, and witty banter aficionado. Born in Pensacola, Florida, she left the sleepy town behind for the fast-paced world of Washington, D.C.. There, she somehow landed jobs with BBC, Discovery Channel, and National Geographic Television before finally settling into a “real job” as an IT consultant. After a quarter life crisis at age 27, she decided consulting was for the birds and rekindled a childhood passion for writing novels. She sold everything she owned and moved back to Pensacola, where she currently resides with her two dogs, Zoe and Mr. Biscuit. Evans is the author of the Razia series and Empath, both published by Sun’s Golden Ray Publishing.

Be sure to check her out on the below social media sites:








29 Oct 2015

Halloween Reads: Blood and Lotuses

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. No Comments

Book cover for BLOOD AND LOTUSES (attractive Asian man and woman with swords)

I write paranormal romances, which are full of supernatural activity, but I’m not exactly the Queen of Terror. You know when you’re reading a romance, everything’s going to turn out all right in the end. Frightening things may happen, there may be near-death experiences, and secondary characters may even perish, but you know the hero(es) and heroine(s) will get their HEA. It’s a law of the genre.

Fantasy’s a different game. Really awful things can happen in fantasy, and there’s nothing that says you can’t inflict these horrors on your main characters. (Anyone who watches Game of Thrones or has read the wonderful, but incredibly dark books by George R.R. Martin on which it’s based knows this to be true.)

I’m a romance writer at heart. As a fantasy reader, I was raised on Tolkein, where destruction is balanced by tremendous personal heroism. In the long run, I can’t write something something as downright tragic and horrifying as Mr. Martin. Yet. But there was something liberating about writing Blood and Lotuses, where I felt free to have bad things happen to good people and to get as explicit with violence as I usually am with sex.

Yet in the long run, this book is about the redeeming power of love, which makes a perfect Halloween read. Like the holiday itself, it’s frightening, but with a healthy side order of hope. (Halloween, after all, derives from All Souls’ Day, which is all about life after death and our connection to our dead ancestors.)

When love is outlawed, only the bravest lovers can defeat an inhuman foe.

A demon in the guise of a goddess is “purifying” the great city of Dakura by killing off its stores of love, desire, and beauty. Once the city is void of color and passion, the demon can claim the city for its base to conquer the whole mortal world.

Anchali, a priestess of the goddess of love and desire, infiltrates the temple of the false goddess, along with her reluctant guardian Thanom, a soldier whose wife was murdered in a demon-inspired purge. They’re hoping to get information to pass on to a rebel general who hopes to roust the cult from Dakura. What they find, though, tells them this isn’t a job for warriors.

It’s a job for lovers, using the power of passion to enact an ancient ritual.

Anchali can perform the ritual. But first she has to convince a broken-hearted man to love again.

Compared to that, defeating a demon is child’s play.

Warning: Contains more explicit violence and less explicit sex than usual in a Teresa Noelle Roberts novel, along with all the magic and romance you’ve come to expect.

Excerpt (showing some of that explicit violence):

In an almost-cool hour of the night, when the heat of one day had finally faded and the swelter of the next had not yet struck, the demon Nshlic’s first victim woke with a start in the child-brothel.

For the time it took to draw a breath, the dockworker Beyun felt about as good as a man could possibly feel, aglow with the memory of the night’s near-perfect combination of scamming money, drinking, and whoring, and the possibility, based on the warm, sticky little forms curled up next to him, of the last of the three starting all over again.

Then his dreams slammed back into him and he realized that everything in his life was wrong.

The boy and girl Beyun had rented for the night, sensing his movements, began cooing and stroking at him even before they were fully awake. He shook them roughly off.

“Sinners!” Beyun cried, his voice rough from drink and barbed with dreams. Then he looked down at his own naked body. “As I am, too.” He grabbed his knife from the bedside table. “Sinners, do you repent?”

The two young whores looked at one another, then nodded, wide-eyed. They had grown up in the brothels of Dakura, and placating the customers, however odd their desires, was second nature. “Oh, we repent.” The girl, perhaps thirteen or so with the start of a woman’s curves, subtly gestured at the somewhat younger boy, but not so subtly that Beyun didn’t pick up on it. He’d learned when he was younger than these whores to pay attention to his surroundings, because you never knew when someone might be sneaking up on you.

“We’re due for some praying, I’m sure,” the girl continued, her voice high and frantic. “We’ll go ’round to the temple of Pichitra with you, soon as you let us grab our clothes.” As she spoke, the boy slithered down between the wall and the bed and began crawling for the door to get the bouncer.

“Not that whore-goddess Pichitra,” Beyun said, although some part of his brain wondered why. He’d always been partial to the temples of Pichitra. Pichitra’s Chosen were sweet-smelling and pretty and brightly colored as birds, and their charity meals came with a nice hot chili sauce and even a bit of mango or green papaya, not just rice and bland vegetables like the gray-clad, quiet Chosen of Jananya dished out. Still, he said, “we go to the temple of Jananya.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the boy had almost reached the door. Beyun wheeled around, threw his knife, aiming for the door just above the boy’s head.

Since Beyun had made the money he’d spent for the evening’s extravagant entertainment in a knife-throwing contest, using that very knife, he should have done what he intended: scare the boy into staying put while he gave the oration that was filling his soul.

The knife swerved and struck the boy through the heart.

The girl opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Soundlessly, she dropped to her knees and pressed her face against her dead friend.

Beyun started to panic. He hadn’t meant to kill anyone. He was supposed to be repenting, changing his life for the better. And now this… He’d done plenty of wicked things and he knew it was bad he liked to go to the child-brothels sometimes instead of the brothels with grown women and men, which were bad enough. But killing someone who wasn’t trying to hurt him was worse than anything he’d done before.

Then a great calm filled him, the kind he’d heard pious people saying came with meditation and jhang addicts say came with smoking just the right amount.

The boy’s death wasn’t his fault. It couldn’t have been his fault.

Beyun knew knives. Beyun knew all about knives, and how they behaved, and what could go wrong if you played with them carelessly. What had just happened was impossible.

Therefore, it was the will of Jananya—a sign, a lesson.

And he knew what he had to do to fix the child and in the process, fix his own messed-up, sinful life.

Beyun knelt down beside the two young whores, the living one and the dead. “Do you repent?” he asked the girl, putting his hand gently on her head. She nodded mutely, her almond eyes terrified but her young face otherwise expressionless, frozen with shock.

She probably didn’t repent, not yet. She was just scared, more scared than he’d wanted her to be.

“You don’t have too much to repent, I suppose,” he said, as softly as he could. “I mean, you and your friend were whores and all, but that’s because the world’s an awful place and it dragged you down before you had a chance to do better, just because you needed a way to put rice in your belly. The goddess understands that. But me, I’m a sinner, an evil man. Bear witness for me.” He retrieved the knife from the still-twitching corpse. “I repent my sins, Jananya, and sever myself from temptation!”

He knew what he had to do. The goddess told him in his dreams, but he’d forgotten until just now.

With one blow, without hesitation or flinching, he sliced off his own genitals.


Buy it on Amazon / Smashwords / Barnes & Noble / Kobo

29 Oct 2015


Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. No Comments

Cover of dark fantasy romance Thresing the Grain

(This post is revised from a previous year.)
If you want a spooky dark fantasy romance with magic and kinky ancient erotic rituals that combat actual demons, Threshing the Grain might be your perfect Halloween read. It’s the autumn/harvest season installment of the Seasons of Sorania Cycle, and it riffs off my adolescent reading of The Golden Bough, which is not about happy-fluffy-modern neopaganism, but the sometimes violent original. There’s blood magic, the possibilty of human sacrifice, and a demon that gets into people’s minds and makes them act as their worst selves.

It’s definitely romance, though, not horror. It features a loving couple who risks everything to save each other and the rest of the community. And did I mention really hot sex? Male-dom sex, female-dom sex, magical sex with satyrs, and the equally magical sex between two people who love each other deeply.

Ruined Roman temple (temple of Augustus in Ostia Antica) with dark umbrella pins


The sight of Miryea’s body naked and offered up before him like a feast was pretty much irresistible. Hells, her scent–and not the musk of her arousal, even, but simply the smell of her skin, permeated with sharp medicinal herbs that were as much a part of her as that sea-musk of desire–was irresistible.

But he knew what she had dreamed. Knew it in vivid, gory detail.

The blood. The gelding knife. The power rising as the victim’s life ebbed.

As his life ebbed.

No. Don’t think about it.

That particular memory, of the night in his twelfth year where the dreams had turned from frightening spectacle to something more intimately horrifying, was not one for revisiting. At least the dreams had stopped altogether after a few awful nights of experiencing his own ritual death. Shortly after that he’d started having much more pleasant dreams involving naked girls, as if his childhood terrors insisted on one last bit of fun with him before he moved toward manhood and they lost his grip on him. But he wasn’t going let slip that he’d dreamed his own death, to either of the important women in his life. It wasn’t merely that it would call forth his mother’s superstitious Kulchu side or frighten Miryea unnecessarily, although he was sure it would do both.

Talking about it would make it too real. Too much like a prophecy and not a fear born of childhood and the night, dismissible, even laughable, in the light of day and maturity.

Hells, he was thinking it about it, wasn’t he? Worse, he was thinking about it hard enough that Miryea, distracted as she was by her own concerns and his touch, sensed it. She cocked her head and stared at him, her forehead wrinkled with concern. He knew that look. She was about half a breath away from saying, “What’s wrong?”

Adimir shook his head, trying to shake off the memories like he’d shake off a persistent bug. It didn’t entirely work, but it returned his attention back to the sweet, soft feminine curves under his hands, the heat of Miryea’s skin, the way her curls tickled him when the evening breeze passing through the shutters caught them.

If he focused on her, on her pleasure, it would only do them both good.

He kissed her, and this time, after a second, her lips softened and parted for him. Her breath was sweet and spicy, from the candied fennel seeds she’d chewed after dinner, and when he slipped his tongue between her lips, hers began to dance with it.

Still gentle, almost tentative, but she was definitely relaxing and enjoying at last. So was he, for that matter.


He kissed her until they needed to pause for breath, and by then Miryea’s face was prettily flushed, her eyes less frantic than they had been. A good start, but there was still a long way to go. While patience where sex was concerned had never been Adimir’s strongest virtue, his own dark mood would make it easier to wait, to draw out her pleasure and bring her to blissful exhaustion. He kissed his way down her throat, paying special attention to the sensitive area near her ear, and from there to her collarbone. Feather light there at first, just on the border between pleasurable and tickling, until she was squirming a little and making a noise that was half gasp and half giggle.

Then he bit down, gently at first and then less so, and sucked on the tender flesh. He would mark her as his, under his protection. The spirits of the night would have him to answer to if they messed with his Miryea.

What he’d do against spirits was another question. Swords, not spells, were his weapons, and they weren’t much use against things you couldn’t see or touch. But the primitive streak that reveled in seeing his marks on Miryea’s body and crowed, “Mine, mine, mine!” whenever he looked at her didn’t worry about such niceties.

Her body arched, quivered.

Good. She was feeling it. And whether “it” was his passion, his possessiveness or his determination to protect her didn’t much matter, as long it worked. As long as it got her mind off the nightmares and into the moment.

He kissed down her breastbone and nuzzled the sweet valley between her breasts. Nipped at the ripe, creamy swells, first one and then the other. She yelped the first time and made a very different noise the second time, and put her slender, strong arms around him then, tangling her fingers in his hair.

“You want me to spend more time here?” he asked, keeping his voice nonchalant and lazy. He’d had every intention of doing so anyway, but knowing how much she wanted it increased his pleasure.

“Yes. Please.” A breath’s worth of hesitation, and then she added, “I don’t want to think tonight, Adimir. I can’t bear to think tonight. Keep me from thinking.”

“I’ll do my best, little rabbit.” And we’ll both be better off for it. Because if you’re not thinking, chances are I won’t be either, and I’m not over-fond of where my mind wanders these early autumn days when I let it out alone.

Buy at:

Phaze / Amazon US / Amazon UK /All Romance Ebooks


21 Oct 2015

WITCHES’ WAVES is coming in paperback 11/3

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. 2 Comments

Witches' Waves book coverTo celebrate the November 3 paperback release of Witches’ Waves (Duals and Donovans: the Different, book 4) I thought I’d join in this week’s Paranormal Love Wednesdays blog hop and tease you with a delicious snippet. Witches’ Waves is a menage romance starring an ethereal blind witch who swears like a Marine, a surfer-dude witch with screwed-up magic and possible genes from a Norse god, and an overly serious otter shifter. They’re working together to save a magical child–and of course, they find love in the process.

The men turned toward each other. There was a soft, wet sound, and then a fierce, strangled groan. They were kissing, she knew. Maybe touching intimately, hands on each other’s cocks. After all, Kyle was already naked. It wouldn’t take much.

Hot energy danced over Meaghan’s skin where they were still in contact with her. It prickled and tickled, but in a good way. An arousing way, as if each kiss and touch between the two men echoed in her. Her nipples perked up against her borrowed shirt as if Kyle and Deck were each suckling one. And between her legs she swore she could feel a clever finger circling her clit, teasing and tempting, dipping into her wet pussy, then going back to her clit. Not enough to make her come, but enough to arouse and tempt, enough to make her all too aware of her body, her own needs.

She couldn’t help remembering the dreams or visions of Kyle and Deck and her together in the water, the two men taking turns fucking her, buoyed by the ocean. Strong hands, strong cock and a sense of mutual love and need so powerful that she couldn’t believe it was only a fantasy. How could she even know how to fantasize about such a thing, when she knew nothing of love and, she suspected now, little of real desire?

Find more about Witches’ Waves and the whole Duals and Donovans series here.  Be sure to check out all the other blog hop participants as well.

Buy links for paper and ebook: Amazon /Amazon UK / Barnes and Noble / Samhain

These are ebook only, obviously: iBooks(iTunes) / Kobo



17 Oct 2015

Enemies To Lovers Stories With Cynthia Sax

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. 2 Comments

Cynthia Sax is visiting today with a post on the enemies to lovers trope and a bit about her newest book, which I simply have to read.

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Book cover for SF romance Releasing Rage, featuring dangerous-looking, sexy man.

“The opposite of love is not hate, it’s indifference.” – Elie Wiesel

One of my favorite storylines in SciFi romance is enemies to lovers. The couple (or more) starts the story hating each other with a fierce, world-burning passion. They end the story loving each other with the same ferocity.


Teresa does this storyline oh so well. (Edit: Thank you so much, Cynthia!) As Rahal says to Xia in Bad Kitty, “You make death threats seem like the most erotic thing ever.” There’s the hint of danger throughout the early scenes. We’re not sure if the temporary peace between them will hold.

In Releasing Rage, my most recent story, Rage, the cyborg hero, has been tortured by his human handlers over his entire lifespan. He hates humans with an all encompassing passion, an unrivaled fury. He sees no redeeming qualities in humans and plans to kill as many of them as possible when he escapes.

Joan is the human female assigned to be his engineer. She’s aware of his hatred for her kind. It isn’t a secret. Rage brutally murdered his previous engineer and she sees the carnage he caused. She knows if she makes one wrong move, she’s dead.

Even I didn’t think she’d make it through their first meeting alive. Rage was a hair trigger away from killing her throughout the entire scene. This constant will-he or won’t-he tension is one of the many things I love about the enemies to lovers storyline. We’re never quite sure what will happen.

I also love the premise that our enemies might be the very beings who best understand us. Rage, hating all humans, is aware of how different Joan is. She is an outcast and he sees this early in their relationship.

Most of all, enemies to lovers stories give me hope. If Rage and Joan can learn to love each other, then maybe we can learn to love people who are less hostile toward us. There’s hope for us and for the world.

What do you love about enemies to lovers stories? What are some of your favorite enemies to lovers stories?




Releasing Rage

Half Man. Half Machine. All Hers.

Rage, the Humanoid Alliance’s most primitive cyborg, has two goals–kill all of the humans on his battle station and escape to the Homeland. The warrior has seen the darkness in others and in himself. He believes that’s all he’s been programmed to experience.

Until he meets Joan.

Joan, the battle station’s first female engineer, has one goal–survive long enough to help the big sexy cyborg plotting to kill her. Rage might not trust her but he wants her. She sees the passion in his eyes, the caring in his battle-worn hands, the gruff emotion in his voice.

When Joan survives the unthinkable, Rage’s priorities are tested. Is there enough room in this cyborg’s heart for both love and revenge?

Buy Now:

On Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/Releasing-Rage-Cyborg-Sizzle-Book-ebook/dp/B00ZOL1DRO

On Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00ZOL1DRO/

On ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-releasingrage-1850041-340.html

On B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/releasing-rage-cynthia-sax/1122455646


About Cynthia Sax

USA Today bestselling author Cynthia Sax writes contemporary, SciFi and paranormal erotic romances. Her stories have been featured in Star Magazine, Real Time With Bill Maher, and numerous best of erotic romance top ten lists.

Sign up for her dirty-joke-filled release day newsletter and visit her on the web at www.CynthiaSax.com

Website: http://cynthiasax.com/

Newsletter: http://tasteofcyn.com/2014/05/28/newsletter/

Facebook: facebook.com/cynthia.sax

Twitter: @CynthiaSax

Blog: http://tasteofcyn.com/









13 Oct 2015

Lovely little video

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. No Comments

Turn the sound off because it doesn’t really add much.

19 Sep 2015

“One Sexy Boy”–Actually Two of Them–for My Sexy Saturday Blog Hop

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. No Comments

This week’s theme on the My Sexy Saturday blog hop is “One Sexy Boy.” (Be sure to check out all the participants. There’s a full set of links at the bottom of the post if you want to read mine first, which I hope you do.) My science fiction romance Bad Kitty features two sexy heroes for my lucky heroine Xia to love. After all, she’s a felinoid, a catlike alien, and felinoids spells monogamy as monotony!

cover for the science fiction romance Bad Kitty: sexy cat-girl against a background of starsI’ve offered a few previous glimpses of her felinoid hero, Rahal. Here’s her first look at their human sexy boy. She’s just met him a way that could be awkward even for an uninhibited cat-girl: he walks in while she and Rahal are getting frisky. Luckily the handsome stranger introduced as arms dealer Karn the Viking isn’t averse to getting frisky himself. His reasons are more complicated than simply having a high sex drive, low inhibitions and a desire for the two attractive felinoids. But for now, it looks like good, clean dirty fun all around…

The man with the sexy voice chuckled. “I’ll make myself comfortable. That is, if the lady doesn’t mind. Never pays to piss off a woman with claws.”

Xia craned her neck and found herself looking into a pair of very blue human eyes as the two-o’clock appointment settled himself on a cushion, long legs folded under him. “Oh no,” she said with a purr. “The lady doesn’t mind at all. Pretty-pretty must be in season on this planet.”

“Just got here yesterday,” the man said, sounding an adorable combination of aroused and embarrassed. “Maybe the season came with me.”

The embarrassment was endearing, especially since he didn’t look like someone who’d get embarrassed by much of anything. This human—tall and buff with neat, short white-blond hair and wearing a long coat of tan leather and skintight pants in the same shade—was almost as tastily tough as Rahal. Her cunt clenched around Rahal at the thought of the stranger being an audience.

A participant would be even better, but humans weren’t always that easygoing about sex. And while she and Rahal had clicked instantly on many levels, she didn’t want to push him by inviting the guy to play too. Too much was riding on her bargain with the warlord.

But she didn’t need to worry about that. “Space is a cold, lonely place, Viking,” Rahal said. “If you want to warm yourself, just ask. I won’t speak for Xia and she can veto me, but I always figure the more the merrier.”

Well, that solved the etiquette dilemma! Xia nodded and beckoned. The human let out a strangled moan and crawled closer.

Bad Kitty teaser 3 catgirl with chainsaw

Blurb and more book info:

When you make the Devil’s bargain, be prepared to take the heat. A lot of heat.

Most of Xia’s early memories are repressed, thank the Great Cat Mother. But her body remembers how to kill.

The longer she and her fellow Malcolm crewmates are holed up on Cibari hiding from assassins, the twitchier she gets—until the planet’s insanely sexy Warlord, Rahal Mizyar, borrows her skills to take out slavers.

Rahal suspects Xia is his mate, but the human-raised female never learned the finer points of felinoid rituals. The solution: make her fall hard and fast for him, even if it means playing dirty.

Hired to determine if Xia is the long-missing granddaughter of the felinoid prime minister, Cal Janssen has finally tracked her down. Getting past Rahal, though, is a problem—until he’s mistaken for a notorious arms dealer and playboy. And he finds himself the object of both Rahal’s and Xia’s seduction.

When their first mission brings Xia’s memories bulleting back to the surface, she realizes she’s fallen for two men who don’t exist. Running away, however, could be her deadliest mistake.

Product Warnings
Contains an assassin with a swiss cheese memory, a badass warlord who’s getting tired of his own con, and a freelance lawman. Secrets, lies, and hot sex with no rules.

Buy Links: Samhain / Amazon US / Amazon UK /Kobo / Barnes and Noble / All Romance Ebooks

Be sure to visit all the other Sexy Saturday participants!

And check out my release-day Facebook party for more sexy snippets, prizes, and visitors from guest authors galore!

bad kitty party banner