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25 Jul 2014

Guest Blog: Introducing Leigh Ellwood and Sci Spanks

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. No Comments



Hello, everybody. Leigh Ellwood here, and I’m thrilled to announce I’m part of a new anthology called Sci Spanks. This is a collection of 15 shorts on a theme – naturally science fiction with spanking. My contribution, “Skin,” came to me as I racked my brains to think of a story. A martini or two later, and it happened.

You may or may not be familiar with my work, but BDSM and kink are not sub-genres I write often. I don’t read much BDSM, just a few authors, and I know writing kink requires research so the stories are accurate and do not misrepresent the Lifestyle. Since this book deals mainly with spanking, though, I felt it was okay for me to participate. The science fiction setting allowed me a bit of creative license as well. I placed my heroine in a precarious situation where a law was accidentally broken, but her captain manages to make it easier by becoming involved in the interplanetary conflict. I don’t want to spoil it for anybody, but Sci Spanks is only 99 cents and a great collection if you enjoy light kink, other worlds, and a variety of pairings.

I invite you to preview Sci Spanks below and to drop me a line on Twitter @LeighEllwood if you have read and enjoyed it. I don’t know if I’ll write more spanking stories after this, but the feedback is good I never say never.

The Sci Spanks Anthology 2014

Featuring stories by Anastasia Vitsky, Leigh Ellwood, Maren Smith, Olivia Starke, Eve Langlais, Louisa Bacio, Kate Richards, Carole Cummings, Jessica E. Subject, Cathy Pegau, Sue Lyndon, Natasha Knight, Erzabeth Bishop, Eva Lefoy, and Anne Ferrer Odom

Published July 15, 2014

Buy Now!

Amazon – http://www.amazon.com/Sci-Spanks-2014-Collection-Spanking-ebook/dp/B00LWHW2QK/
AllRomance – https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-scispanks2014-1570892-343.html
Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/458236
Kobo – http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/sci-spanks-2014


Sci Spanks 2014 offers fifteen sexy spanking stories from fifteen authors. You’ll find everything from sweet, tender romance to laugh-out-loud humor and references to old-school science fiction popular culture. You’ll find a mixture of romantic pairings, from M/F to F/F to M/M. Some stories are harsher, while others appeal to the softest-hearted romantic. Sit back, relax, and enjoy!

About the Stories

Skin by Leigh Ellwood

Different planets abide by different rules, and when Andromeda breaks one she must accept the punishment. When her ship’s captain elects to administer the penalty, she finds being the bad girl feels quite good.

Bred for Love: Tika is Chosen by Eve Langlais

Abducted and raised in a commune on a planet with two indigo suns, Tika has no idea she’s part of a specialized breeding program created to provide healthy human females to men of power in need of a perfect mate.

But Tika has no intention of behaving. What she doesn’t count on is her new owner enjoying the challenge.

Taliasman by Anastasia Vitsky

“If I had been born a boy, I would have followed in my father’s footsteps to become a tradesman. Because I was a girl, he sold me instead.” So begins the tale of Talia, a woodworker’s daughter who is sold for a sackful of gold. Queen Vina appears at the cottage of Talia, a nineteen year old whose family is too poor for her to marry. Vina takes Talia to her palace, and the girl discovers unexpected love.

Oh, What the Hell by Maren Smith

May has for a long time now suffered in her attraction to shipmate, Vek. That Vek is a praying mantis-like Klik’vok is entirely beside the point. Her fickle woman’s heart has spoken and tonight is the night she’s going to do something about it. Because surely, once a woman gets past the whole “bug exterior” thing, then any other obstacles must be easy, right?

Replicated Consequences by Jessica E. Subject

After Darryl Malloy’s wife is killed in combat, he doesn’t expect to find her standing on his door step. Only she is not his wife, but a clone, armed with a paddle.

What’s a Moon Colony without a Spanking Franchise? by Kate Richards

But Harlan, a simple college professor and trainee of The Trainer isn’t sure how well his tools will work in the lower gravity chosen by the denizens of this strange place. What he needs is someone to try them out on. But the client who presents herself is not exactly the girl next door…

No More Lizards by Sue Lyndon

Anya is determined to help her stern alien husband, Roc, find his sense of humor. Putting a native lizard-like creature known as an ebbra under their bedcovers seems like a good idea. It’s funny. At least Anya thinks so…until her husband decides a certain naughty little prankster needs to go over his knee. Will Anya ever succeed in coaxing a smile out of Roc, or is the cultural divide between them too great to find some common ground?

Red Moon Rising by Erzabet Bishop

When you can’t be who you are where do you turn? When you thought the love of your life was lost only to find her again how do you choose between yesterday and tomorrow.

A hereditary witch, Detective Devi Watson fought long and hard to become a cop in a witch hating world. Forced to turn her back on her coven and her family she lost everything that mattered most.

Her girl Astrid included. Some choices a woman should never have to make. When witches begin to die and Astrid is threatened, the carefully constructed wall around Devi’s past begins to crumble.

Who is she? Hereditary witch or a student of law and logic? Can Devi reconcile the demons that haunt her and face the red moon rising…

Taming the Wolf by Anne Odom

The time machine is broken, and there’s a wolf in the control room. What’s an inventor to do when his project is failing, his lover is wicked, and his patience is stretched?

Research Purposes Only by Eva Lefoy

From my research, species across the galaxy have one thing in common: they all have some hidden kink. Whether its tentacle restraints, breath play or even the more uncommon fire play, they all have tricks up their sleeve. Join me as I visit the Utai and get a first-hand taste of how sweet their punishment for a simple crime can be.

Jen & Maddy by Cathy Pegau

When Maddy stops by her girlfriend’s lab, she helps by testing the mind-reading equipment. To her shock, all of her deepest longings are laid bare. Will she scare Jen away, or will they take their relationship to the next level?

Flame on a Fire by Carole Cummings

Exposition and development masquerading as a PWP. Or vice versa. Depending on your perspective. But hey, either way—bondage!


About Leigh Ellwood

I am Leigh Ellwood. I write smutty stories about people who like getting naked and having sex. Some have more sex than others, some have sex with people of the same gender, some have sex with more than one person, and still others have sex with toys and things that require the use of batteries. My stories range from a few thousand words to well past 70k. My books are available at Amazon, B&N, Smashwords, Kobo, and ARe. Really, just type my name in any bookstore site and something is bound to show up.

Please stalk me online for news about my books and crazy adventures.


15 Jul 2014

Teaser time! Witches’ Waves is ready for pre-order

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. No Comments

witches waves

The ocean is on their side. But the fight is on land—and it’s about to get dirty.

Witches’ Waves is up for pre-order now on Amazon or Barnes and Noble. This is a big deal. I mean, “Deck” can barely keep his towel on in his excitement. (Hey, we can dream!)Deck (chris hemsworth) on beach And in honor of this big news, and the fact it’s “Teaser Tuesday,” here’s a little bit of the book’s beginning.

“I’d like you to take me to the ocean for my birthday.” Meaghan forced her voice to stay calm, to make the request seem utterly bland, like she was an ordinary young woman who wanted to do something particular on a special birthday. Forced herself to turn in her chair and look toward Garrett, her nurse and caregiver. Most sighted people seemed perturbed that she could meet their eyes as often as not, but not Garrett. He said it was a combination of attention to detail and her magic.

Shaw always said the same thing but she wasn’t going to think about Shaw now.

Any more than she was going to dwell on the minor issue that because she’d lived in this Agency hospital since she was a child, she wasn’t sure what state she was in, let alone how close they were to a beach. If she spoke calmly enough, maybe Garrett would just go along with it. Sometimes he would bend the rules for her, but this went beyond bending and into outright shattering.

Especially since she had no intention of coming back. She suspected Garrett knew it.

He knew she was weary of being the Agency’s pet seer, a prisoner even if they called her a patient. Knew she was dying. Maybe that was why he wasn’t saying anything.

She had to break the silence. “Or a lake, if the ocean’s too far away. I just want to be near water. Outside the compound and near water.”

She felt Garrett smile at her. She could do that sometimes, when she concentrated, but only with him. It might be because he was Different too, like her, or maybe he smiled more profoundly than most people at the research hospital. “I wish I could, sweetie. It’s a couple of hours to my favorite beach, but that’s worth it for a special day. On a week day, it’s so quiet and peaceful we’d probably have it to ourselves. But I don’t think they’ll let me take you that far. You’re so delicate. They wouldn’t want to risk you.”

She sighed. “Garrett, I’m not delicate. I’m dying from a neurological disorder. I’m about to turn twenty-three and I’m not likely to make it to twenty-four. But I’m not dying in a way that a day at the beach will make worse.”

Unless her plan worked. Then she’d be dead on her own terms.

If it didn’t, at least she’d get that day at the beach, which would be one more pleasant thing to remember while she was stuck in the hospital, spewing out visions for the Agency.

Betraying others like herself, like she was bound to betray the baby she’d been seeing since early spring, the one that everyone wanted to know more about.



9 Jul 2014

WIP Excerpt: Witches’ Waves

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. 2 Comments

Logo for WIP It Up Blog tour (text around image of woman holding notebook & whip)

I’m taking part in the WIP It Up blog tour, featuring short excerpts from “works in progress,” that are unfinished or otherwise not quite ready to order on Amazon. I’m cheating slightly and offering an except from Witches’ Waves (Duals and Donovans: The Different Book 4).  My part of this book is done, but it’s still is “in progress” on my publisher Samhain Publishing’s side as they get it ready for its November 2014 release. It even has a cover!

Witches' Waves book cover

Here’s the blurb: The ocean is on their side. But the fight is on land—and it’s about to get dirty.

Long held captive as the Agency’s secret weapon—a blind witch with visions—Meaghan has come to a line she refuses to cross. Rather than betray the infant “child of five bloods” to
the Agency’s scientists, she chooses death. Except when she throws herself into the ocean, she doesn’t die. Her repressed water magic comes to life.
When the sodden, delirious witch drifts into Kyle’s arms, his otter dual instincts tell him to get her to the Donovans as fast as possible. Even though one particular surfer-dude Donovan broke his heart.
Declan Donovan continually kicks himself for pushing Kyle away, but his touchy combination of water, earth and lightning magic is too volatile, and Kyle wanted more than Deck was ready to give.
When they come together to help Meaghan control her new magic, it leads the Agency straight to the child of five bloods. They’ll have to dive head-first into total trust—in their magics, in themselves and in each other—to save the child and stop the Agency once and for all.
Warning: Contains an oceanful of sex between an ethereal blind heroine who swears like a pissed-off Marine, an overly serious otter shifter, a would-be beach bum who may be descended from a Norse god, in permutations as fluid as the sea – and themes of abuse and recovery.

More info on the series here:

This excerpt takes place just after Kyle rescues Meaghan–or maybe the ocean rescues her with Kyle’s help.

“Meaghan,” Kyle said, trying to keep his voice calm, “My name is Kyle, and I’m going to get you to the van now so you can warm up. We’ll figure out what to do from there. You should see a doctor, but I may have another solution for that, if you really feel it would be unsafe to go to the hospital.” One that would be a hell of a long drive, but if the girl would rather die than risk going back to the Agency, he’d be tricked if he put her back in harm’s way.

Even if the harm would be to an already fragile psyche. One of Deck’s relatives would know how to help, even if Meaghan’s problem was that she was stone crazy and believed her own delusions.

“Put your arms around my neck. Here…” he added, guiding her with his hands.

He scooped her up. She weighed about as much as his twelve-year-old cousin Storm, though the weight was distributed in a more interesting way. She made a startled little sound, but clung tightly, with more strength in those thin arms than he’d have anticipated. As he carried her, he sniffed. An otter’s nose wasn’t like a wolf dual’s or even a cat dual’s but it still carried a lot of information that a normy wouldn’t catch. The young woman was terrified—but not of him and, he thought, not from her recent brush with death. The smell was sharp enough he’d have noticed it before, which meant it started when he mentioned the hospital. She was telling the truth when she said she’d rather die than go back to the Agency (or wherever she’d been). He wasn’t sure what the connection was between hospitals and the Agency, but he meant to find out.

Under the fear, Meaghan smelled like amber and ocean.

It made sense she’d smell a bit like salt water at the moment, but she carried the scent of the ocean in a deep, innate way, in her blood, not just on the surface of her skin. Normal for otter duals, but he’d only met a few humans who smelled like the ocean was part of their being, and only one he’d had the chance to sniff this intimately: Deck Donovan.

His ex.

Could he be an ex when they had never really been a couple? His once and future fuck buddy, maybe?

Whatever. He freely admitted he was obsessed with Deck, but this wasn’t the time to give in to the obsession.

And Kyle had caught that amber scent before when he was visiting Donovan’s Cove. Couldn’t place which witch carried that warm smell, let alone remember what it meant, but the connection was clear. If you smelled like amber even after a long, battering immersion in the Pacific, you were a witch.

All right then. Not a mentally ill person projecting her trauma onto the Agency. A witch who’d been traumatized by the Agency.

This was deeper than he’d meant to dive, but once you were in the water you might as well keep swimming.


Oh, one more thing? Deck Donovan looks kind of like this:

Chris Hemsworth (better known as Thor) surfing


Be sure to check out all the other excerpts for the WIP It Up Tour below! (If for some reason the widget isn’t working, you can find links on the WIP It Up site.)






1 Jul 2014

Independence Days: The tiny tomatoes and petite peppers edition

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. 1 Comment

Tiny green pepper on vigorous plant in my garden.

Blurry…but it’s a baby pepper.

Green tomatoes developing

Green tomatoes!


Large John Deere brand farm equipment

A herd of Deere outside my home town. The hometown has a population of 30,000  and a college…but we’re still country.

Plus bonus drought and groundhog depredation!

I was away at my mom’s in the Land of Apples and Large Farm Equipment (see above) for the weekend and came back to a mess. A groundhog has taken up residence in our woodpile and decided that my Royal Oakleaf Lettuce is what’s for lunch. It’s been eaten down to the ground, although a few sad leaves remain and from past experience I suspect it will regrow.  Still, it’s upsetting. That lettuce was just about perfect–the rest is either tiny or verging on over the hill–and I was looking forward to having a nice tender salad with last night’s dinner…a salad of Royal Oakleaf, specifically. I guess that’s what we get. We procrastinated putting up the new fence, since liberal applications of cat hair had been keeping varmints away. This is our incentive to finally get the fence up. Sadly, it’s a job that requires more muscle than I have–I’m good, but I’m a bit small to dig twenty post holes–and I hate to push Himself, since he’s crazy busy at work right now, and that means he’s already working hard out in the heat.

And it hasn’t rained in weeks. The garden’s still hanging in there, but I think we lost some of the container plants. (I didn’t remind Himself to water, and since I know the garden is my baby and he’ll forget it if not reminded, this one is totally on me.) This, of course, is when the nozzle on my hose chooses to break. I’ll go get a new one later today, but doesn’t it just figure? I’m not about to water a quarter-acre of garden using buckets!

Still, the garden is doing well, all things considered. I have bouquets all over the house, even if my flower beds aren’t as magnificent as my mom’s. Then again, the beds haven’t been established for thirty years and I’m not paying someone $100 a week or so to keep up with them (Mom, alas, can’t do it herself anymore.) The vegetable garden may be weedy and dry, and I haven’t replanted areas where spring crops have petered out. (Probably won’t until it cools down again. There’s not much point in sowing seeds when it’s over 90 degrees and bone-dry.) But we’re still getting lots of good food.
Now for an Independence Days update:

Plant something: As I said, too hot to plant.

Harvest something: lettuce, arugula, mizuna, snap peas, shelling peas,  broccoli,  dill, basil, oregano, kale

Preserve something: Nothing much, since I was away part of the week and over the weekend, but will do snap pea pickles and freeze some peas tonight. That’ll count for next week, I guess.

Waste not: The usual composting and recycling, and trying to get Mom to recycle.

Want not: Stocked up on rhubarb by Mom’s, since my own plant is so young I didn’t get enough for the freezer. It’s much cheaper there, where it’s not a trendy gourmet item, but that giant plant-monster that takes over the back garden on every older farm and country home. Bought some nuts and other supplies at the Mennonite bulk store en route to Mom’s, and some glorious local NY cheese. (Which also fits in community food systems, I guess.)

Eat the food: Lots of salads and fresh peas. Brought peas and salad greens to Mom’s and actually got her to eat vegetables and enjoy them, not just do eat a few green things because you ought to.

Build community food systems: Shared the wealth of the garden, shopped at farm stands in upstate New York.

Skill up: Played with the camera more. Starting to get good at this, but I’m still having trouble when I zoom in really close. (Like the pepper picture.)



21 Jun 2014

Independence Days: The Summer Solstice Edition

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. No Comments

Happy summer to those north of the equator. (If you’re reading this from south of the equator, happy winter–and please leave a comment, because it’s fun to hear from people in far-flung places.) And blessed Solstice to my fellow pagans…and to everyone else too. Even if it’s not a holiday in your tradition, it’s still the longest day of the year in this part of the world, the shortest for our Southern hemisphere friends, and that’s a good excuse for a celebration. Of course, it doesn’t take much for us to celebrate!

Today is our wedding anniversary as well as the first day of summer. We deliberately got married on the Solstice and always celebrate on the first day of summer, even though it varies slightly from year to year. We’d had plans to head up to Ogunquit, Maine for a day of hiking and beaching, but I was feeling off last night, so we rescheduled for tomorrow and instead spent a mostly leisurely day at home. Apparently all I needed was a day of rest and healthy doses of lobster and champagne, because I’m feeling much better now and am raring to go have outdoorsy fun tomorrow.

Since I had a little time today, I did some garden and homesteady things, so it seems like a time for my Independence Day update. A more detailed explanation can be found here, but basically it’s a state of the garden and food preservation.

two jars of snap pea pickles

Last year’s photo…but it seemed silly to take basically the same picture again.

Plant something: We haven’t planted a lot this week, because right now everything is growing madly. We have the green tomatoes in the mad tomato jungle, the bush beans have buds on them as do the peppers, the first lettuce and most of the spinach are gone, and even the eggplant and cukes, which started out slowly, are beginning to take off. The only think I’ve planted was lovage. (I thought I bought parsley, but what the heck, we have lovage now!).

Harvest something: lettuce, mustard greens,arugula, mizuna, snap peas, shelling peas, spinach,green onions, broccoli,  dill, lemon thyme, basil, oregano, kale, broccoli raab, rhubarb

Preserve something: Snap pea pickles, dehydrated mangoes (not at all local, but so delicious!), dehydrated lemon thyme and oregano.

Waste not: Composting, and setting aside books, clothes, and miscellaneous items for donation. Found a fun gift item at a flea market today.

Want not: Nothing special this week.

Eat the food: Lots of salads and fresh peas. A stir-fry that included our broccoli and snap peas. Broccoli raab with frozen roasted tomatoes from last year. Snacking on peas and broccoli. Strawberry-crisp with my own rhubarb. So very good! I made it gluten-free this time, with oats and cornmeal instead of flour.

Build community food systems:Found another source for local eggs, since our egg lady shares her bounty with many people and supposedly free-range grocery store eggs pale in comparison. Bought more local berries. Shared our produce with Himself’s co-workers and our friends. Celebrated with a local speciality: lobster! Served with my own greens and Maine potatoes, roasted with herbs.

Skill up: Seeking out new ways to cook in a healthier, lower-calorie, but still delicious way.

17 Jun 2014

Celebrating the Season: Rain at Midsummer

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. No Comments

cover of Rain at Midsummer (het couple kissing in orchard)

As I write this post, it’s one of the first hot, humid days of 2014. My beloved garden is wilting in the heat and so am I. I should water, but I’m hoping that the violent thunderstorms supposed to dot the area overnight will take care of the problem for me.

Rain, or lack thereof, is always an issue for gardeners and farmers. People who don’t garden as seriously as I do revel in two summer weeks without a cloud in the sky, but I’m panicking and raising my water bill dramatically. Real farmers, people who rely on their crops for a living, experience this feeling a thousandfold.

Imagine what concern a dry spell must have caused in a time and place entirely dependent on foods grown on local small farms, a time and a place with primitive irrigation and water-storage technology.

The Summer Solstice is approaching in the Northern Hemisphere (Saturday!) It’s one of my favorite holy days of the pagan year, and one of my favorite times of year in general: a celebration of light and abundance and sexuality and the fruits of the land. It’s the longest day of the year, marking the first official day of summer…and the fact that from now on, the days get shorter even as the heat gets stronger and lettuce and strawberries give way to tomatoes and peaches. The Summer Solstice is also our wedding anniversary (about the only traditional thing about our wedding was that it took place in June, and that’s harking back to a seemingly ancient tradition of weddings at Midsummer as well as to contemporary paganism’s association of the day with the marriage of the Lord and Lady.)

With all this in mind, it seems natural to highlight one of my backlist titles, Rain at Midsummer (Seasons of Sorania Cycle 2). Like many of my books, this fantasy romance involves sex-magic, and love-magic, and healing. In this case, you can probably guess the function of the sex-magic…but maybe not the details of the story. I write a great deal about consensual slavery, BDSM-style. This book involves nonconsensual slavery. The heroine escapes a cruel master – and then needs to learn what to do with a freedom she never expected and what role she can play in a society very different from the one she grew up in. The hero is a free man trapped in a role he never chose.

Can they find true freedom together?

Of course there’s also and smoking-hot sex and some meddling deities. But at core, it’s about the nature of liberty.

An escaped slave daunted by freedom. A nobleman fighting his destined birthright. Their love defies logic, but when the spirits of the land speak, you’d better listen.

Nikos curses the day his brother died and left him as Lord of Thermanae. What’s an educated man to do in a place so backward his tenants expect the Lord and Lady of the estate to bring rain through sex-magic? Jaenna, a runaway Kulchu slave, curses the fate that forced her to flee a murderous master to the neighboring Soranian Empire. Freedom means frightening choices for a woman whose entire life has been spent serving men’s sexual whims, and she can’t communicate with the spirits of the land enough to work the healing magic that might earn her a respectable place here.

The forbidden desire that burns between Nikos and Jaenna could save them both, if they see beyond what they think they know. But it takes desperate need—and advice from a madwoman who may be crazy like a fox—for Nikos to see that magic isn’t merely a metaphor and Jaenna to learn that love is the most powerful magic of all.

Excerpt (a bit racy, yet showing the theme):

“Let me try.” Dela’s Kulchu was as good as his; given the long tug-of-war over the territory, most Thelanese were bilingual. But if there was a Kulchu woman in there, she was likely to respond to a male voice of authority. Nomad women were raised that way.
“Come out, woman,” he said. That should work even better if it was a man in there. He’d come out bristling, eager to prove his manliness.
And since Dela was a bit closer, she’d be the one to hand him his balls. Pure comedy.
“Ha Khairi,” a small, nervous female voice responded. Yes, Master.
The girl who crawled out from under the bush was covered with dust, her hair so matted and dusty he could hardly tell the color. Dark, he thought, but how dark he couldn’t say. She was wearing fragments of something scarlet that must have been skimpy even when it was intact—it might have passed for a shortish underq’misa in civilized parts. She looked like she’d been sleeping rough without any kind of preparation or training for it, and she was visibly shaking and darting terrified looks from him to Dela and back again as if they were monsters with three heads.
And despite all that, she was beautiful.
Big dark eyes. Tall, as Kulchu often were, almost as tall as Nikos himself, but delicately and elegantly built. Well-muscled legs, high, full breasts, round hips: the kind of beauty that could drive a man to despair or heaven. Cleaned up, she’d be lethal.
A few more wild looks and then she sank to the ground. For an instant he thought she was fainting, and reached out to catch her.
But in a controlled movement marred by only a little swaying, she knelt before him on the rocky ground, stretching out on the ground to almost touch his boot in gesture of submission so graceful it made him ache inside, ache with pity and something else he didn’t want to examine.
She was a slave.
A woman who for years—from birth, for all he knew—had been trained for nothing other than pleasing and pampering and taking care of a man, trained to follow orders and not think too hard.
The pleasing part was, well, dangerously pleasing. It was all too easy to imagine the tatterdemalion figure cleaned up, wearing a few choice jewels and nothing much else, applying that particular intensive education to him. He was only human, and the gods hadn’t made humans to be celibate for nearly as long as he had been.
The rest moved him to an uneasy mix of disgust and compassion. It made him sad enough that his mother was a ghost among the living since his father died, unable to rise above her sorrow, unable to see that there was a life for her without her husband in it. It had gotten worse since his brother and sister had died within the same year. And his mother was a physician, a woman who’d been respected in her own right, not only as the Lord’s wife. A slave, a woman raised to be completely dependent on male whims, seemed a thousand times sadder to him, a thousand times more backward than the Thelanese traditions he found depressing enough.
Sarakia [his maybe-fiancee] was nothing like that. She was a thoroughly modern, cosmopolitan woman. Had her own friends, had her work in her family’s spice-trading firm, would certainly be sad if something happened to whatever lucky man she ended up marrying, but would go on with her life. And certainly wouldn’t make a fool of herself kneeling to a man.
Which, Nikos’ cock took chose that instant to remind him, was a pity. You wouldn’t want a woman to spend her whole life on her knees, but sometimes a woman kneeling in front of you could be fun for all concerned.

Buy Links: Amazon / B & N/ Phaze

17 Jun 2014

Peas be unto you!

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. No Comments


Quart of fresh-picked peas

Just a quick and not very artistic update. Every day I’ve been asking the spirits of the garden, “when will the peas be ready?” As of this morning, they’re starting. That’s a quart container that recently held strawberries (now in my belly).

Tonight, there will be peas with dinner, the first fresh peas of the season, other than a few I taste-tasted right off the vine.

And speaking of vines and spirits of the garden…

Pea vines with pods and flowers

Pea vines (snap peas, in this case)


Remarkably polite bunny who ate only a few shallot tops.



13 Jun 2014

Independence Days Challenge: the months-later-than-usual edition

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. 2 Comments

Hot Seeds

I forgot to take a picture of the harvest before I started cooking it. So you’ll have to settle for Farmer-Style Ryan Gosling. Oh, the horror!

Warning: My hippie side is showing. If you’re not interested in gardening with a side order of the politics of food, move along. We’ll get back to the smut soon, I promise. But thrift, food security and encouraging local production of food are important issues to me, on both a personal and a community level. And everyone likes good food. So bear with me. Maybe you’ll find a good recipe, if nothing else.

Most years, I take part in something called the Independence Days Challenge. I explained it in more detail in the post to which I linked, but basically, it’s a challenge for gardeners and crunchy types to grow and preserve more food, buy local food when possible, and eat what you grow and preserve. Normally I start posting in early spring or even late winter, but this year… well, while I’ve been gardening like a madwoman, I just plain forgot to start on the challenge, which at this point is more to make a record of the garden year and to challenge myself. Since I’m self-employed (and thus on a tight budget) and we’re still planning a huge trip to Italy this fall, it’s more important than ever to make sure I don’t waste food and use the garden’s largesse wisely. And due to the tight budget, I’ve been buying cheap food from outside our “food shed” a lot, food that wasn’t necessarily sustainably raised. Since a lot of fossil fuel went into raising that food and getting it to New England, I have to make sure it’s not wasted either.

The blogger from whom I learned about the challenge, Sharon Astyk, hasn’t been doing it herself this year for a reason that’s more than valid: she and her husband have just adopted a fifth child (adoption was finalized yesterday!) and they’re fostering four others, so between parenting and farming, they’re a little too busy to blog much.  (Go read Sharon’s blog archives if you’re interested in food systems, climate change, farming, or the joys and challenges of foster parenting. She’s one of my heroes.)

I decided it’s high time I start making Independence Days updates if only for my own reference. Here are the challenge categories, in Sharon’s words:

Plant something: A lot of us were trained to think of planting as done once a year, but if you start seeds, do season extension and succession plant, you’ll get much, much more out of your garden, so I try and plant something every day from February into September.

Harvest something: Everything counts – from the milk and eggs you get from your animals to the first dandelions from your yard to 50 bushels of tomatoes – it all counts.

Preserve something: Again, I find preserving is most productive if I try and do a little every day that there is anything, from the first dried raspberry leaves and jarred rhubarb to the last squashes at the end of the season.

Waste not: Reducing food waste, composting everything or feeding it to animals, reducing your use of disposables and creation of garbage, reusing things that would otherwise go to waste, making sure your preserved and stored foods are kept in good shape – all of these count.

Want Not: Adding to your food storage or stash of goods for emergencies, building up resources that will be useful in the long term.

Eat the Food: Making full and good use of what you have, making sure that you are getting everything you can from your food, trying new recipes and new cooking ideas, eating out of your storage!

Build community food systems: What have you done to help other people have better food access or to make your local food system more resilient?

Skill up:  What did you learn this week that will help you in the future – could be as simple as fixing the faucet or as hard as building a shed, as simple as a new way of keeping records or as complicated as making shoes.  Whatever you are learning, you get a merit badge for it – this is important stuff.

And here are my current results:

Plant something: more lettuce, more pole beans, more radishes, more green onions, more cilantro. Purchased parsley but haven’t planted it yet. Don’t worry, there’s a lot more planted than this, including tomatoes, tomatillos, eggplant, beans, peppers both sweet and hot (four kinds of hot), snap peas, shelling peas, cukes, zukes, basil and dill. The “planted” category is stuff that went in this week!

Harvest something: lettuce, mustard greens, tatsoi, arugula, mizuna (a third form of mustard green, mild enough to eat raw), radishes, snap peas (just a handful so far), spinach, broccoli, broccoli raab, dill, basil, oregano, kale

Preserve something: Freezing spinach tonight. Otherwise I haven’t done much preserving yet.

Waste not: Composting, setting aside books and my “out-shrunk” clothes (I’m down 25 pounds!) for donation. I’ve actually been wasting a lot of food. Due to trying to lose weight, I don’t just decide to make French toast when the bread’s a few days old, and so we’ve lost quite a few loaves to mold. One of the reasons I’m doing this challenge is to remind myself to get creative with using up foodstuffs and still be calorie-wise!

Want not: Nothing in particular this week. But I think the fencing and the three new 8×16 raised beds we added this spring will count for this category whenever there’s nothing else to add. That was a job and a half!

Eat the food: Salads every night, and often for lunch as well. First broccoli is steaming now. Used the last of 2013′s canned peaches yesterday, and still working on 2013 tomatoes and salsa. (Sun-dried tomatoes in salad or sauteed greens are wonderful. Just saying.) Made a delicious rice-and-greens dish with some of our gobs of about-to-bolt mustard greens (Does that count as “waste not” too?) I have to remember to cook up our last bag of 2013 beans, since we have peas on the way within a few days and fresh beans are just a few weeks off.

Build community food systems: Bought some local strawberries today–first of the season! Other than a regular donation to the Greater Boston Food Bank, nothing else. I’ve been sharing some of the garden’s wealth, and we’ve gotten some eggs from our friendly “egg lady,” but not this week.

Skill up: Seeking out new ways to cook in a healthier, lower-calorie, but still delicious way.


10 Jun 2014

Slave Girls Blog Tour: A Little Background on “Bridle Party”

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. 1 Comment

Cover of the book Slave Girls

Welcome to the next stop on the Slave Girls blog tour!

One of the strengths of good erotic fiction, and Slave Girls certainly fits the bill, is that it can let you beyond the trappings of fetish, even beyond the visceral pleasures of sex, into the human heart. This book is full of kinks and fetishes, from the standard bondage and pain play to less common ones, edgier ones such as breath play and, in my case, pony play.

Only the point isn’t just the hot kink. It’s what the hot kink reveals about the people involved, and about the nuanced Master-slave dynamic, which on both sides is about both power and vulnerability.

My story, “Bridle Party,” is about a slave’s introduction to pony play.

And it isn’t.

It’s about obedience to a Master’s whims.

And it isn’t.

At its heart, “Bridle Party” is about submission as a path to growth. This is a short story, taking place over one brief afternoon, so we’re not talking huge life-altering epiphanies and drastic changes. But by the story’s end, Myra has worked through a mental block that held her back – and it’s because her role as a slave allows her to do so.

Don’t worry. The story includes prancing pony-girls and pony-boys, human dressage, Dominants being pulled around in carts by their subs, and of course, incredible outfits. These trappings are part of what makes pony play so fascinating. It’s pretty. How could I not? The outfits and performances and fantasy are part of what makes it fun! Even people who figure they’ll never put on a tail, a bit, and blinders can appreciate the appeal of something that combines sport, dance, fashion, and childhood games with a healthy dose of kinky sex.

Julie Peterson, dressed in a steampunk-styled dark green riding habit, was in one of the carts, being pulled by Bob. The usually intense lawyer looked more content and relaxed pulling a cart, while wearing ears and a tail and sporting a harness rig and bridle, than he looked in his normal clothes; he adeptly following the silent commands Julie gave with her reins. Two women in elaborate plumed and maned headpieces with bridles and blinders, beautiful hoof boots and matching harness rigs did what appeared to be dressage under the direction of a man who smiled like a kid with the best toys in the world as he worked with them.

But the real heart of the story is the bond of trust between Master and slave, and a slave’s willingness to push past old fears and self-imposed restrictions to please her Master…and in the end, let herself be freer and stronger than she imagined she could be.

“You needed the order, didn’t you? Needed me to push you.”

“I couldn’t…on my own. But I’ll obey you, even when it scares me. Maybe especially when it scares me.” Pleasure built, obliterating the fear, or at least putting it in perspective. She belonged to Zan, and she’d take risks to obey him that she wouldn’t take on her own. And in return, he gave her this freedom to rise above her limitations, to be braver.

For me, that idea is the heart of a particularly appealing kind of Master/slave relationship, that in a relationship where the sub is in some ways dependent and subordinate, she or he can also find room to grow and wings to soar.

Or in this case, hooves to gallop.

Woman in full latex pony gear including mask

Pony Play by Ruth Tolman, www.ruthlessphotography.net

Photo Credit: Pony Play (C) Ruth Tolman, www.ruthlessphotography.net. Some rights reserved. This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.

June 1  D. L. King  http://dlkingerotica.blogspot.com
June 2  Rachel Kramer Bussel  http://lustylady.blogspot.com
June 3  Alison Tyler  http://alisontyler.blogspot.com
June 4  Valerie Alexander  http://www.valeriealexander.org
June 5  Nina Fairweather  http://ninafairweather.com
June 6  Sommer Marsden  http://sommermarsden.blogspot.com
June 8  Victoria Behn  http://kdgrace.co.uk
June 9  Donna George Storey  http://sexfoodandwriting.donnageorgestorey.com
June 10  Teresa Noelle Roberts  http://www.teresanoelleroberts.com
June 11  Erzabet Bishop  http://erzabetsenchantments.blogspot.com
June 12  Lisette Ashton  http://ashleylisterauthor.blogspot.co.uk
June 15  Giselle Renarde  http://donutsdesires.blogspot.com
June 16  Lisabet Sarai  http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com
June 17  Graydancer  http://www.graydancer.com
June 18  Deborah Castellano  http://deborahcastellano.tumblr.com
June 19  Nym Nix  http://nymnix.wordpress.com
June 21  Lydia Hill  http://lisehorton.blogspot.com

Buy links: Amazon US / Amazon UK / Amazon Australia /Cleis Press /Barnes and Noble /Powell’s

1 Jun 2014

Slave Girls Blog Tour starts today

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. 1 Comment

Slave Girls


Today begins the blog tour for DL King’s anthology, Slave Girls: Erotic Stories of Submission. As the title suggests, this book focuses on submissive women and the dominant men whose dark and delicious attentions they crave. It should surprise no one who knows me that I have a story in here. My blog-tour date is June 10, but as the tour begins, I wanted to start spreading the word.

Laura Antoniou, author of the Marketplace books said this about Slave Girls: “An incredible collection of stories that beautifully encapsulate the rush and fulfillment found only in the act of submission.” A whole stable of great erotica authors explore this theme, and if you follow the blog tour, you’ll get teasing tastes and background information throughout the month.  Stable, as you will see in a few days, has particular significance for my story. (Yes, the teasing is starting early.)

And before I forget, congratulations to DL King. Another of her anthologies, Under Her Thumb: Erotic Stories of Female Domination, just received a silver medal for erotica in the Independent Publisher Book Awards (IPPY). Kudos to DL and the authors in Under Her Thumb–who include me!

Under Her Thumb

Here’s the Slave Girls tour schedule. We start off today at editor DL King’s site and it goes from there.

June 1  D. L. King  http://dlkingerotica.blogspot.com
June 2  Rachel Kramer Bussel  http://lustylady.blogspot.com
June 3  Alison Tyler  http://alisontyler.blogspot.com
June 4  Valerie Alexander  http://www.valeriealexander.org
June 5  Nina Fairweather  http://ninafairweather.com
June 6  Sommer Marsden  http://sommermarsden.blogspot.com
June 8  Victoria Behn  http://kdgrace.co.uk
June 9  Donna George Storey  http://sexfoodandwriting.donnageorgestorey.com
June 10  Teresa Noelle Roberts  http://www.teresanoelleroberts.com
June 11  Erzabet Bishop  http://erzabetsenchantments.blogspot.com
June 12  Lisette Ashton  http://ashleylisterauthor.blogspot.co.uk
June 15  Giselle Renarde  http://donutsdesires.blogspot.com
June 16  Lisabet Sarai  http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com
June 17  Graydancer  http://www.graydancer.com
June 18  Deborah Castellano  http://deborahcastellano.tumblr.com
June 19  Nym Nix  http://nymnix.wordpress.com
June 21  Lydia Hill  http://lisehorton.blogspot.com


Buy links: Amazon US / Amazon UK / Amazon Australia /Cleis Press /Barnes and Noble /Powell’s


19 May 2014

Pen and Kink Pays Us a Visit–with Prizes!

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. No Comments

3-Some Welcome to Pen and Kink’s first event! We hope you are excited as we are to bring you premier, high quality erotica at indie prices. Below you’ll find information about all three books and a great giveaway, put together especially for you. First a little about Pen and Kink!

About Pen and Kink!

Pen & Kink
We are a committed writer collective focused on promoting quality erotica of all predilections, from steamy romance to the more transgressive and taboo topics and everything in-between. At Pen & Kink you will find books you can trust will be of the highest quality that contain so much heat your ereader might just melt in your hands. Check us out at Pen and Kink and follow along, we promise, it’s going to be one hell of a ride.

About the Books


Renovating A Heart by Deanndra Hall

In the next installment in the Love Under Construction series, it’s the story of two people with backgrounds so sad and difficult that it’s unlikely they can move past them. But when pasts become the present and threaten a life, can they put aside their fears in order to survive? Revisit Louisville, Kentucky, and the friends and members of the Walters family. You’ve watch Nikki and Tony fall in love, and seen Vic and Laura face their demons while coming together forever. See what’ next – join us on May 19th and see if Steve McCoy can find a way to heal while Kelly Markham asks for what she needs and gets a lot more. Enjoy!


RUN by River Harlequinn

Abused, neglected and the absolute bottom of the pile, the runt of her family, even below her half-breed father, Lea suddenly discovers she’s to be given in marriage to a werewolf family from her mother’s home town. But she hasn’t even managed to turn for the first time yet, and if she doesn’t, they’ll slaughter her.
Her father can’t oppose the marriage, but he can give his daughter a fighting chance, and forces her mother to take her home for the fire ritual at Beltaine. If she manages to turn then, perhaps she will survive and claim what’s rightfully hers. All she wants to do is run….. Buy it now at http://riverharlequinn.com/buy-run


Protecting Portia by Pavarti K Tyler

Jackson Grady met the love of his life. Unfortunately, he was running drugs for a pimp named Sasha at the time, who asked him to keep an eye on their new acquisition from Russia, the bedraggled beauty named Portia. She touched his heart and forced him to confront the kind of man he’d become.
Now, Portia and Jackson both work at The Sugar House. He continuously looks out for her, and longs for her with his every breath, but knows he is unworthy of such an angel. What will Portia do to win not only the heart, but also the body, of the man she loves?
Welcome to the world of The Sugar House, and the men and women who will fulfill your every fantasy. But can they find a way to fulfill their own?


About the Giveaway!

And now for the part you’ve all been waiting for! Our fabulous giveaway, remember though, this is for our 18 and over readers ONLY. Prizes will NOT be sent to you if we discover you are under 18 and by entering below you are confirming you are old enough to qualify. a Rafflecopter giveaway


16 May 2014

Sommer Marsden brings us Poster Boy for Average

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. 2 Comments

PosterBoyForAverage copy


Sommer Marsden, who’s anything but average, is paying us a visit today with yet another new release. Poster Boy for Average released earlier this month from Ellora’s Cave, and it sounds like a lot of fun. Sommer, I really want to know the secret of how you write so many wonderful books. Except I already know the secret: you work hard. (I’d much rather believe you had a sexy genie who stretched time for you or something, but I’m pretty sure the answer is a great deal of hard work.)

Without further ado, here’s Sommer!

A lot of my characters happen to work for themselves. Hmm…odd. Not really! I’ve worked for myself for about 14 years now. Sometimes earning hardly anything (back in the beginning) and sometimes earning well more than I ever did in an office (trust me, I partied those years). The point being, I love to write independent business women. I love to write people following their passions.

Aubrey isn’t just a photographer. She took her passion one step further by designing covers for novels. I funneled some of my amazement for covers designed for me over the years into her work. I made sure Aubrey had an eye for it, but more than anything, a passion for it. Because I believe if you follow your passion, amazing things can happen. Like meeting a handsome, wonderful roofer who deserves your attention. From behind the camera and otherwise.




Indie photographer and book cover artist Aubrey Singleton is living up to her last name. A long summer at the lake has cured her of her recent breakup, and she’s embracing life as a single woman. What she’s not prepared for is to come back home to find she has a handsome new single neighbor.

Mike Sykes is a roofer—though he’s afraid of heights—a father of two and recently divorced. Oh and one might classify him as smoking hot.

The photographer in Aubrey is smitten, the single woman in her is breathless. She’s ready to make Mike a star—on book covers and, though she’s wary of a broken heart, in her life. He’s not so sure. Mike sees himself as a life complication due to his younger son’s illness, and not hot by a long shot. In fact, he thinks he’s the poster boy for average.

But a “business” trip to Key West, rife with hunky models, sets a backdrop for a shot at true love…



Aubrey snatched her hand back quickly. “Sorry. Occupational hazard. I usually…you know. Help, arrange, pose, poke and prod the models. Whatever you want to call it.”

“Poke away,” he said, nodding.

She made the mistake of looking him right in the eye for a heartbeat. Big mistake. It was mesmerizing, that gaze of his. His lips curled up into an even more amused expression and she bit her tongue to keep from crying. She felt like the giant punch line to an unknown joke. Why did the roofer dislike the photographer? To get to the other side!

Aubrey poked his rock-hard belly. Just to see what he’d do. The muscles flexed and he grabbed her wrist. There it was again, her thundering pulse.

“Just remember if you poke me enough I might poke back.”

She swallowed hard and nodded. “Good to know. This way.”

He dropped her wrist and followed her down the deck. She waved at the overgrown-but-somehow-picturesque box garden.

“We’ll start here. The light is good. And then maybe by the tree, like I said. Then the basement. You have a body that was built with work. So let’s show it off.”

“Working in the garden?” He chuckled.

“Well, the garden would be a good neutral backdrop for the pics. That way I can play up the foliage around you or fade it out. Either way, being out in nature certainly won’t harm a picture of a body like yours.”

“Poster boy for average,” he muttered again.

She flicked a finger at him, now in her element. “Not even close, man. Now take off your shirt.”

His eyebrows shot up but he obeyed. Aubrey fought the instinctual urge to touch what she was looking at. She was a pretty tactile photographer, often posing subjects as if they were her own personal Ken and Barbie dolls. Truth be told, there were more Kens, but the occasional Barbie showed up in the mix.

“I like that look. Grab that shovel.” She nodded to one propped by the fence. “And climb in there. Let the growth swallow you up.”

“Seriously, Aubrey, if there’s poison ivy in here I’m going to spank you,” he muttered. Mike was facing away from her when he said it so he didn’t see the sudden rush of color that must have come into her face, but she felt it.

“There isn’t. I double-checked. Plus, Bradlee was letting Laura roam around in here the other night. Trust me, if that happened, there is no poison ivy in here.”

He squinted against the sun, gripping the shovel. When he came back toward the garden, he nodded. “I hear you. She’s a bit of a mother bear, your sister. Not that there’s anything wrong with that in this day and age. Parents need to be that way.”

Aubrey raised the camera. Got him in frame. She liked the way the sunlight seemed to peek over his shoulder and roll down his belly. But the belly needed more highlighting. “Hold on,” she said and darted over to the picnic table. Nearby was a potting stand that also held bug spray, sunscreen and for Laura’s visits an economy-size bottle of bubbles.

She snagged the sunscreen and ran back, almost tripping over a wayward pumpkin vine that had snaked out from the far corner of the yard. She almost righted herself, stumbled again, then hit the lip of the garden bed and sprawled forward. Almost. Instead of hitting the dirt in a tangle of jalapenos and tomatoes, she hit a broad-chested man in a flying tackle. He stopped her momentum easily and she got a face full of man-chest.

“Oomph,” she said.

“You okay?”

“I’m…” She was addressing a mole two inches above his left nipple. She could smell soap on him and some very subtle cologne and sunshine. “Yes, I’m a bit clumsy.”

“No worries. Me too.”

“You’re a roofer!”

“And afraid of heights and still a roofer.” He touched her nose and Aubrey felt as if he’d touched some naughty part of her instead. She tilted her head back to look at him. It was hard not to be captivated by the way small little lines appeared at the corners of his eyes when he smiled.

“I need to rub you,” she said. Then she heard what she said and groaned.

“Well, I’ve never had a woman be so very blunt about it before.”

It was easy to see by the way he was pressing his lips together that he was trying very, very hard not to laugh in her face.

“With lotion!” she said.


Buy links:

Ellora’s Cave: http://www.ellorascave.com/poster-boy-for-average.html

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00K0J0LLO/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B00K0J0LLO&linkCode=as2&tag=sommmars-20&linkId=W3DYE53RUZ5AWARZ


ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-posterboyforaverage-1498148-149.html

About the Author:

Professional dirty word writer, gluten free baker, sock addict, fat wiener dog walker, expert procrastinator. Called “one of the top storytellers in the erotic genre” by Violet Blue, Sommer Marsden writes for HarperCollins Mischief, Ellora’s Cave, Excessica, Xcite Books and Resplendence Publishing. She’s the author of numerous erotic novels including Poster Boy for Average, The Accidental Cougar, Lost in You, and Learning to Drown. Visit http://sommermarsden.blogspot.com


14 May 2014

Quick Year of Yes Update

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. No Comments

I have a real update coming, with photos from a hike I used to think was beyond my ability, and news and possibly pictures from my first-ever 5K. (Which I’ll be walking. My chiropractor says I can walk as far and as fast as I want, but running risks putting me back in the Rigid Backbrace of Doom, which is kind of like a dog’s Cone of Shame, but with more Vicodin.) But first this quick news: I just updated my WordPress software all by myself, without waiting for the weekend so the Housegeek, who’s supposed to pay us a visit, could hold my hand. A small thing for most, but big news for this Luddite.

Victory is mine!

The picture below has nothing to do with that. It’s just a photo I took on a hike back in April, because a text-only photo looks dull. Besides, it looks like an alien sex organ, and my current WIP is a sexy SF romance. Have to tie this post to writing somehow!


Alien sex organ or baby Jack-in-the-Pulpit?



6 May 2014

Year of Yes Update

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. No Comments


Several months have  passed without me updating on the progress of my Year of Yes.

So far, I can report I’ve been saying yes, enthusiastically, to life. I’ve ramped up my writing schedule. I’ve taken hundreds of pictures. I’ve been going out more often, venturing into crowds to see live music and just wander around Providence and Boston. I’m doing vinyasa yoga regularly–I honestly didn’t think I’d be able to commit to such a vigorous style of yoga, but I’m loving it. I’m hiking often, though not as often as I’d like. I’ve signed up for my first 5K. I’ll be walking it rather than running, because one thing to which I won’t say yes is a rigid back brace again, and my doctor fears what the jarring of running on pavement might do to my spine. (My spine is slightly deformed thanks to a teenage injury that healed badly.) But I’m doing it.

And we’ve booked a trip to Italy for this fall. Venice, Florence, Rome, and Sorrento. Life is too short to put off adventures until you can afford them.

One thing I have been saying no to, though, is mindless eating. I’m nearly twenty pounds lighter than I was at the start of my year of yes, and more important, between healthier eating and increased exercise, I’m much stronger. We put in three new garden beds this week and I was able to help significantly. Last year, I’d have been supervising and bringing drinks. Today, I was shoveling loam (several tons of loam total; my husband I worked together) and raking.

Mind you, I haven’t changed my ways completely. I still haven’t dared to self-publish that book. (Soon. I promise. Soon.) I still waste far too much time online farting around. I still have times when I feel old and anti-social and down at the mouth. But my resolve to say yes and embrace life is definitely paying off.




26 Apr 2014

Guest Blog: Sommer Marsden Introduces THE ACCIDENTAL COUGAR

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. 4 Comments

(Before Sommer gets going, I have to jump in and say I had to invite her to guest-blog here because I love, love, love that title. Also, that Sommer has a great shape-shifter series, but her cougar Abby, unlike Jack from Cougar’s Courage, isn’t the kind with fur and a magnificent tail. She’s pretty wild and magical in her own way, though.)

Elegant woman

“…and something weird was beginning with my neck.”

Like any woman in her 40s when dealing with a 20-something (naked or otherwise), my main character Abby can be a bit self-conscious. However, the thing I’ve noticed is we’re (women, I mean) fairly self-conscious all through our lives. Not all of us, but a great majority of us. In The Accidental Cougar I was determined for Abby to be brave.

I know so many women who are reaching their 40s or are already in their 40s who are finally learning to love themselves. Myself included. We’re learning to embrace ourselves despite the fact that our bodies aren’t the same as they were when they were 20. Or 30. But then again, the 50s, 60s and 70s are coming so what better time to learn to be proud of yourself inside and out. Why not learn to be amazed with what we’re capable of physically, emotionally and mentally at every age?

Now is the time to learn this lesson for many of us.

I made sure funnel all that into Abby. I wanted her to see herself for the gorgeous woman she is. I wanted her to see herself as her young lover Charlie sees her. I tried my best to make it as honest and real and yes, a bit humorous, as I could.

We should never rule out learning amazing lessons from those younger than us, am I right?





Charlie froze and I felt so bad for startling him. But then he dropped to the bed next to me, pulled me into his arms and began to stroke my hair. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Abby?”

I shuddered, more mortified than upset now. “I am so so sorry.” My words stumbled over each other, my tongue tripping over itself. “I have no idea—” I shrugged. “I just think it’s been so long and—”

He smiled down at me and kissed my fingers. “Sex can be emotional. I am choosing to see this as a compliment.”

I laughed, my whole body shook with sudden amusement. And I found that I didn’t care.

I didn’t care that my breasts weren’t as perfect as they’d been when I was twenty. Or that I had that small belly pooch that short of an electric carving knife or plastic surgery I couldn’t afford was never going away. Or that I had small lines around my mouth and something weird was beginning with my neck. I didn’t care because when I was with him I felt so damn beautiful. So wanted that I felt like I had nothing to worry about.

To Charlie I was beautiful and in that moment I was even more beautiful to myself.

“And brave,” I whispered, not meaning to say it aloud.

“And brave what?” He stroked my hair, still damp from my preparatory shower.

“To sleep with you,” I said. Then I laughed at the shocked look on his face.

“Am I that beastly?” he asked, trying to keep a straight face.

“No!” I squeaked, swatting his chest playfully. “What I mean is, it can be daunting. Someone like you.”

“Like what?”

“Someone as young and handsome and fucking…buff,” I said.

Charlie played along by flexing his biceps to make me laugh again. “I’m Hans…” he started, reviving an old Saturday Night Live skit. At his age God only knows where he’d seen it. Probably Youtube.

I craned my neck up and kissed him quiet. “You know what I mean, Charlie,” I said. “To you this might make perfect sense. It seems to.”

He watched me, finger skating along my bare hip raising up goose bumps as he stroked. He didn’t try to cut me off, just kept his mouth shut and waited.

“But for me, I kind of shake my head sometimes and wonder how I got here.” I smoothed my hands along his chest just to feel his warm, supple skin. “I was considering an online profile for people over forty just a week ago.” I snorted and that made me freeze and then giggle. He smiled. “And now…I’m having amazing spontaneous take-me-now sex with you.”

“Hans,” he said, managing to keep a straight face.

I shook my head. “Just Charlie. Charlie who makes me smile.”


What would be the harm in a little fling? What would be so bad about bedding a young man who could technically be my son? He wasn’t my son. He wasn’t my anything. But he could possibly, if I could unclench my ass long enough, be my lover.

My lover.

What was so bad?

Buy Link:


Also on Amazon, Amazon UK, All Romance Ebooks and many more!

Author Bio:

Professional dirty word writer, gluten free baker, sock addict, fat wiener dog walker, expert procrastinator. Called “one of the top storytellers in the erotic genre” by Violet Blue, Sommer Marsden writes for HarperCollins Mischief, Ellora’s Cave, Excessica, Xcite Books and Resplendence Publishing. She’s the author of numerous erotic novels including Lost in You, Restricted Release, Boys Next Door, Restless Spirit, and Learning to Drown. Visit http://sommermarsden.blogspot.com

Sommer’s on a blog tour, so be sure to check out her other stops!



22 Apr 2014

OUT OF CONTROL Release day!

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. No Comments

Veuve Clicquot Yellow Label Beauty Image

It’s a bit early to pop the champagne on this bright Tuesday morning. Release days are busy, between Facebook and tweeting and blogging and chatting on the publisher’s loop and let’s not forget working on edits for my fall release and trying, desperately, to get in some words on the two books in progress. And amid all that, there’s the day job, which is thankfully part-time from home. Since it’s late April,I’ll also need to get out to the garden at some point. It’s the warmest day of 2014 so far, so at the very least, I should thin some seedlings and pick fresh flowers for my desk.  (For new readers: I’m an urban homesteader as well as a writer. I already have three beds planted with cool-weather crops, but that’s just a start. Five more beds and some large pots to go, plus the flower garden. And the fruit trees. Have I  mentioned I’m either hyperactive or insane? Or maybe both.)

But there’s a bottle of bubbly chilling for tonight! And a champagne cork, because after a day like this one I’ll be good for one glass before tipping over.

And on that note, a sleepy, but teasing except from Out of Control. OutOfControl72lg

Drake fought back a grin, then stopped fighting it. He loved her enthusiasm for her work, but right now, she sounded like an overtired little kid. “I’d like to see it, but maybe tomorrow. It’s time to get you to bed.”

She sat on his lap and snuggled against him. “I agree. Absolutely.” She wiggled her butt, grinding it against his cock in a way that made him want to forget his good intentions.

“I meant to sleep. You must be exhausted.”

She nibbled his neck. “I’ve had coffee. I’ll be fine.”

“You need sleep.”

“A lot of coffee. I do need sleep, but I’m wired. You’ll have to wear me out.” She slipped her hand inside the waistband of his pants. The way they were sitting, she couldn’t reach his cock, but her hand brushing his belly shattered his resolve. He groaned, pulled her into another deep, devouring kiss.

He should carry her up to her own bed under the stained glass window, tuck her in and turn out the light. That would be the responsible thing to do. But she was squirming and mewling into his mouth, and obviously wanted him as much as he wanted her. What the hell. If she passed out once he got her horizontal, they could at least enjoy some naked time together first.

Mind made up, he encouraged her off his lap, then smacked her on the ass. “My room,” he ordered, “before the caffeine wears off and you crash out on me.”

She scampered upstairs ahead of him. He watched the round, firm globes of her ass swaying as she moved and couldn’t resist spanking it a few more times, not hard, just enough to encourage her. Tease and arouse her.

Want more? Find it today at all your favorite online retailers.

Samhain / Amazon  / Amazon UK / B&N / Kobo

20 Apr 2014

Definitely Out of Control Excerpt from OUT OF CONTROL (releasing 4/22!)

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. No Comments


Drake laid one hand on the back of her neck. “Be still.” His voice was deep, calm, soothing. He stroked the nape of her neck as if he petted a beloved but jumpy pet. Something melted inside her, like glass would melt in a furnace, and she went limp across his lap.

“Good girl,” he whispered. “Surrender to the sensation. Surrender to me.” Still stroking her hair, he spanked her again.

Jen dimly though it may have been even harder than the other times. But the sting didn’t feel like pain. It felt like a gift, a gift Drake was giving to her, and that at the same time she was giving to him. Which made no sense, but the thought was the clear spring green of truth. She accepted it just like she accepted the pain and pleasure, the gentle hand on her head and the hard one smacking an ass that felt as red as her thoughts.

She was molten. She was soft and pooling, ready to be molded and shaped—another one of those nonsensical thoughts colored like truth. She wanted to squirm, try to rub herself to orgasm against the coarseness of denim and the hard muscles underneath. Wanted to push back and beg for more. Wanted. Wanted. But at the same time, she just wanted to see what Drake would do next. So far, she had no complaints, though it was hardly how she would have anticipated things going their first time together.

Hoped, maybe; anticipated, no.

The blows were coming faster now but felt lighter. Was that real or was that just because her clit and pussy were throbbing more than her butt was, making it impossible to think of pain as pain?

Colors exploded behind her eyelids, swirling together in impossible ways. She clung to the colors as best she could, some dim part of her knowing she could reproduce the effect, maybe even the surreal spangling, in glass if she could remember how it looked.

Then Drake let his fingers trail between her throbbing butt cheeks to stroke her pussy.

The colors exploded into fireworks of hues she saw only in dreams, and she exploded with them. No way could she capture those colors. She didn’t think she could see them again unless she was coming, and orgasms and hot glass would be a dangerous combination.

Though with Drake’s hand on the back of her neck, maybe she’d be safe, as safe as she felt now to let go with a cry and soar among the colors.


Coming April 22, 2014 from Samhain. Available for pre-order now.

He’s got her tied up, but she’s got him out of control.

Glass artist Jen Kessler has hit the jackpot—a cheap apartment in a charming Victorian house, complete with a sexy, intense, buttoned-down landlord…who may or may not have a riding crop in his bedroom.

She’s not looking for a lover, but when her innocent, impulsive hug sparks kisses as hot a molten glass, it leads to bondage, spankings, and more naughtiness that, up to now, she had only tasted.

His new tenant may have wild, dyed hair and an unconventional job, but Cornell math professor Drake Matthews admires the work ethic that got her out of debt. Then he’s stunned at how quickly she destroys decades of his carefully cultivated self control.

Soon their sexual and emotional passions push them to the edge—and beyond. But it’s not all good, dirty fun. As Drake takes more and more control of Jen in the bedroom, her deeply ingrained independent streak pushes back. And it’ll take more than a shared penchant for ropes, paddling, and coffee to overcome pasts that could unravel their relationship before it begins.

Warning: Contains kinky sex, molten glass, geeky higher mathematics, family secrets, and irresponsible consumption of coffee.

Samhain / Amazon  / Amazon UK / B&N / Kobo


9 Apr 2014

Jen and Drake’s first meeting: OUT OF CONTROL excerpt

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. No Comments



Read the whole book on 4/22!

In which our control freak hero learns he’s going to have a hard time staying in control around our heroine.

Drake Matthews fumbled the front door open, cursing the doorbell’s interruption to his train of thought.

A small, striking woman with crazy multicolored hair stood in his doorway. He stopped cursing. He’d get back on his train of thought, but he wasn’t about to pretend he was upset to see a gorgeous woman on his porch, even at eight in the morning on Saturday. Even if she was a stranger and his brain was too lost in mathematics to figure out why she was there. He didn’t remember an appointment. Then again, at this stage in the process of writing a paper, he might not remember his own birthday.

The woman spoke, her voice rich, marked with the flat vowels of a local country girl. “I’m here about the apartment on Craigslist. Jen Kessler. We e-mailed back and forth.” Jen extended a small, ringless hand.

Drake took her hand and was shocked by how firm her grip felt considering how little she was. Small but not frail. Her arms were well muscled for someone her size, her legs not just pretty but strong-looking. She wore a green tank top and bright yellow bike shorts topped with a short black net skirt that looked like a child’s ballerina costume. To complete the little-girl-in-costume effect, the skirt was printed with silver glittery stars. On someone else, the outfit would have looked stupid, but it worked for her, as if she was dressed up in honor of a beautiful day that felt more like June in Atlanta than mid-April in Ithaca, when the more typical weather was cold rain or wet snow.

He held Jen’s hand a bit too long as he studied her, hoping that his gray-rimmed nerd glasses made it look like he was just socially awkward, not fascinated. Her nails were short and square, her hands rough, as if she worked with them a lot. Her eyes were the bright, clear green of spring leaves. Her chin-length red curls, streaked with Crayola yellow and orange that made her look like a living flame, were disheveled. Probably from biking here without a helmet, since he saw a bright blue Schwinn in the driveway, but no helmet attached to it or in Jen’s hand. He had to fight the inappropriate urge to smooth that wild hair just to see how it felt, and an equally inappropriate urge to tell her she should wear a helmet.

Control yourself. She wasn’t his to touch, wasn’t his to direct. Wasn’t even his friend. He could pretend to get a bit of fluff out of a friend’s hair or bug her about her bad bike-safety habits. Jen was a complete stranger, and even if she wasn’t, she might end up as his tenant, which probably ruled out becoming his sub. His cock hoped otherwise, but it would open the door to all kinds of drama, and Drake didn’t like drama.

Want more? Out of Control releases on 4/22, but it’s available on pre-order (at a special low price some places!) now.

Samhain / Amazon  / Amazon UK / B&N / Kobo

4 Apr 2014

Excerpt: Out of Control (NSFW)

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. No Comments



Since Out of Control releases in less than three weeks (April 22), it’s time to start teasing you with juicy excerpts.  Here, Jen and Drake are still dancing around each other. Drake is maintaining his self-control…for now…but Jen isn’t.

She worked in and out of her pussy in the rhythm she imagined Drake using, circling her clit frantically as she did. Pressure built in her lower body, and the colors spiraled frantically. She clenched hard, feeling the firm pressure on her fingers and picturing how Drake would react, how he’d groan in a throaty, animalistic way and look astonished by how his control was cracking. How he’d cry out as he surged into her, filling her with hot come, his body jerking, his face turning red, looking alarming and warriorlike and sexy as hell.
That image sent her tumbling into the lava pools of her mind. Light filled her, light of a color she couldn’t name, and she shattered. As the orgasm seized her, she cried out “Drake!”
At that moment, the front door opened.


Lost in thought, Drake headed to the front door and tucked his shinai under his arm to unlock it. He stepped into the front hallway, started to toe off his sneakers—and heard his name on a low moan.

It echoed through the big house, the primal sound of a woman so caught in the throes of orgasm that she didn’t care who heard her.

The bag holding his kendo armor thunked to the floor, unheeded. Inside his jeans, his cock sprang to attention, his balls tightening in anticipation of something he wasn’t going to give them.

Not with Jen, not now, no matter how much they both wanted it. They needed to talk first, and they needed to be clearheaded and clothed when they did it. If he followed the directives of his body, let the lust guide his feet up the back stairs to Jen’s door, “clearheaded and clothed” would be the last thing he’d be. He’d definitely let himself pull her into his bedroom, find the ropes and the crop and the Wartenberg wheel and the rest of his bag of tricks, and the attitudes that went with them. And Jen would let him, he suspected. She was sensual and adventurous and wouldn’t know what kind of Pandora’s box she was opening.

Some of the less evolved parts of his brain offered images of opening Jen’s box, and the more evolved parts of his brain quite enjoyed it.

No, he told himself, taking his shoes off as if that moan didn’t echo through every cell of his body. He would not take those stairs, would not take that risk, would not drag Jen unknowing into his world.

If she wanted it once he’d laid it out, he’d drag her there—and if all went well, some primitive bit of him proclaimed, he wouldn’t let her go.

But he wasn’t going to do it unprepared, no matter how much his aching balls screamed for release. And he wasn’t going to give himself release either. Not yet. That would give Jen, and more importantly, the out-of-control, hungry part of himself, too much power.


Blurb: When fiercely independent glass artist Jen Kessler finds a cheap-and-charming apartment, her impulsive hug for the intense, sexy landlord leads to naughtiness that, up to now, she had only tasted.

Drake’s new tenant may have wild, dyed hair and an unconventional job, but he admires her work ethic. Then he’s stunned at how quickly she destroys his carefully cultivated self control.

But their sexy games are not all good, dirty fun. And it’ll take more than a shared penchant for ropes, paddling, and coffee to overcome pasts that could unravel their relationship before it begins.

Warning: Contains kinky sex, molten glass, geeky higher mathematics, family secrets, and irresponsible consumption of coffee.

Samhain / Amazon  / Amazon UK / B&N / Kobo

4 Mar 2014

Welcome, Mary Hughes

Posted by Teresa Noelle Roberts. 1 Comment

Downbeat mary hughes

I’d like to extend a warm welcome to my fellow Samhain author Mary Hughes, whose newest book Downbeat (Biting Love, Book 7) releases today. It’s a vampire book with a few twists, a musical theme, and…. cheese balls.  (You’ll have to read it to find out more about that.)

Mary Hughes is a computer consultant, professional musician, and writer. At various points in her life she has taught Taekwondo, worked in the insurance industry, and studied religion. She is intensely interested in the origins of the universe. She has a wonderful husband (though happily-ever-after takes a lot of hard work) and two great kids. But she thinks that with all the advances in modern medicine, childbirth should be a lot less messy. Find out more about her, and about the Biting Love series and her other books, at http://www.maryhughesbooks.com/index.html

Here’s a little more info, and a saucy excerpt that’s safe for work (mostly) but hints at a lot of naughtiness to come.

Striking the right note could shatter more than their hearts.

After an attack that slaughtered his family, vampire Dragan Zajicek walled off his heart and went on a sixteen-hundred-year rampage with the bad boys of history.

Now a rock star of the concert podium and master freelance spy, he’s taken the baton for a small orchestra near Chicago to investigate rumors of a monstrous, undefeatable vampire dubbed the Soul Stealer.

But it’s the lovely, unassuming Raquel “Rocky” Hrbek who mesmerizes him from the first touch of her luscious lips on her flute.

Rocky, a shy shadow scarred by middle school cruelty, is mystified as to why core-meltingly gorgeous Dragan would notice a mouse like her. As his stolen kisses draw her dangerously close to the edge of her carefully constructed comfort zone, he exposes her secret—she’s investigating the monster herself.

As their quest draws them closer together, the monster zeroes in on the woman Dragan’s rebellious heart tells him is his mate. Now they must find a way to destroy the indestructible before Rocky is utterly consumed. And Chicago is bathed in the blood of innocents.

Warning: Contains a master of seduction and symphonies, an awkward and innocent flutist, small-town humor, heart-stopping action, and an exodus to Iowa. Oh, and the cheese balls are ba-a-ack—and deadlier than ever.




Enjoy the following excerpt for Downbeat:

I tried to see it from his point of view. The man wanted help getting around. A few directions, not my soul. Simple neighborliness would do. I breathed deep, and managed to rasp out, “Sure. No problem, Mr. Zajicek.”

He smiled and slipped his arm around mine. “Dragan, please.” His hip bumped against my side as we walked.

My respiration rate shot through the roof. I gritted my teeth. Simple neighborliness, yeah, right. Like your basic neighborhood raging inferno. “Okay. First names. I’m Rocky.”

“Rocky? That’s a boy’s name.”

“It’s a nickname,” I admitted.

“Ah. And your real name?”

Yes. My “real” name.

My friend, Nixie Emerson, once told me names have power. In her case, she went by her kicky middle name instead of “Dietlinde”, her dull-as-dust first. For her, that was appropriate. Nixie was short and punk and smart as a whip—and as smart-mouthed too, though she reined it in around her new baby.

In my case though, my “real” name was not appropriate. Anti-appropriate, in fact. My mom named me Raquel, after Raquel Welch, the sex-goddess of the sixties. So while Nixie’s name was right and good, mine was a joke. And considering my nega-love-life, a rather nasty one at that. “Rocky’s good enough, Mr. Zajicek.”

“Dragan,” he murmured, somehow pulling me closer. The heat of his body licked flame-like up my side. I hissed and shifted my flute bag between us, but as a defense it backfired. Zajicek simply plucked the bag from my hands. “Shall I carry that?”

“You don’t have to. No, wait—”

“Nonsense. It is quite light.” He shifted my bag onto his own shoulder, not the one between us. The strap wrapped itself over his muscles like a second skin, and I swear it moaned happily.

Then Zajicek curled one hand around my waist and pulled me so close I could barely breathe. I tried to, really I did. But every tentative inhale brought the scent of him, cotton and sandalwood and burning masculinity. Every movement of my ribcage scraped the side of my breast against his arm, until I was trembling with the need to rub blatantly against him. Every breath drew cool air over my tongue…yikes, I was lolling like a dog in heat.

My glasses fogged up, and I stumbled again.

Both Zajicek’s arms went around me. I felt incredibly clumsy and stupid, making him rescue me continually from my own feet. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Zajicek—”

“Dragan,” he murmured, cupping my chin and lifting my face for another soft kiss. His lips touched mine, his mouth moving in tiny circles as if to warm my skin. He didn’t need to. I was plenty warm already—and a little buzzy.

“You taste wonderful.” His mouth opened and his tongue teased the seam of my lips.

I jumped at the touch but Zajicek held me, so securely I relaxed into his arms. It seemed to be some sort of cue for him to lick me and slide his tongue between my lips, encouraging me to part them.

He asked so nicely, with tiny hot licks. So I did.

The instant my mouth opened he devoured me. His mouth slanted over mine and his jaw dropped. Heat rushed in. I gasped. Shocked and a little scared, I fell back, but he stepped with me, wrapped his arm around my back and trapped me good. He had to bend quite a ways to do it.

My back arched like a bow, my breasts crushed to his chest, my hips to his thighs. Something stirred against my belly, sending a jolt shearing through me. My mouth tingled and my breasts tingled and I was getting really tingly between my legs.

I slid my hands between us to try to wedge open some space. All I succeeded in doing was fitting my palms to the hardest pectorals in the world.

The tingling between my legs was starting to drive me insane.

Zajicek’s mouth left mine to trail licks and nibbles down my jaw to my throat. He nuzzled me there, an odd dark rumble coming from his chest, almost a lion’s purr. “You smell divine. Ah, to taste you fully.” His tongue rasped over my pulse.

Somewhere along the way his hand had found my breast and was kneading and cupping while he sucked gently on the tender skin of my neck until my head spun.

Then his fingers found my raised nipple and plucked.

A thousand Christmas lights went on in my head. I shrieked.