So. What is this thing called “trending”?  There’s now news articles all about… what’s trending – which is, essentially, news about what’s news.  A giant echo chamber of people all talking to themselves about what they’re talking about… to themselves.

You know, people who talk to themselves are, in general, considered, well, crazy.

So I embarked on a little mission to find out more about this crazy thing called trending.  “Google,” I said, “what’s trending mean?”

According to the Urban Dictionary, which has a slightly irritated definition, “’Trending’ is a mutilation of the English language that means ‘currently popular.’ It derives from a sad misunderstanding of the verb ‘to trend’ as meaning “to become a trend.”

A “sad misunderstanding,” huh?  Take that, Justin Bieber.

Hashtags.org has a more defensive meaning, as though they know that trending is silly but want to justify the, ahem, trend: “A trending topic does not just signify popularity. It is also translates to a win for whoever is the subject of the trend.”

Trending, therefore, is desirable?  Does that mean this Bieber guy is on to something?

To find out how A. Catherine Noon is trending, check out her upcoming release of Sealed by Fire, available from LooseId by pre-order and out everywhere on June 24th.

Lesbian fiction wasn’t ever something I deliberately set out to write, it just kind of happened. I answered a call for submissions waaay back in the day, and quickly discovered I liked writing it. The variety from writing straight stuff, the different scenarios that can be played with that wouldn’t work in straight fiction, and, of course, those sexy bodies. I’m straight, but that doesn’t stop me recognising beauty and sexiness in other women.

The curves, the softness where men are hard, the language, the emotion, the noises they make… What’s not to like? Don’t get me wrong, I like writing about sexy men and all the ways they’re different to women, but I like writing about Sapphic seduction, too. It’s delicious, it’s intimate, and, despite what some people may say or think—my lesbian stuff actually sells pretty well! But even if it didn’t, I’d write it. I love variety in my writing, and I’ve gone too far to stop now. 😀

Happy Reading,

Lucy x

*****

Excerpt:

Nadia Gorlando and I had just gotten off the exercise bikes in the gym when one of the academy’s coaches, Peter Ross, headed over to us, all smiles.

“Hey, Nadia,” he said, his all-American grin widening and his blond hair flopping down over his forehead, “I need a huge favor.”

I flicked my gaze to Nadia. She raised one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows and waited for him to continue. He did.

“I totally lost track of time just now and I have an appointment with Travis Connolly. Would you mind wiping down my machine for me? Or maybe stick a note on it saying it’s out of order? I don’t want to leave it all sweaty for someone else. You’ll be doing me a real solid. I’ll owe you.”

My jaw almost hit the floor.

Now Nadia rolled her eyes, looked over at the offending machine, then back at Peter. “Sure, I understand,” she said, as cool as ice. “The world’s number one can’t wait. Go right ahead—I’ll fix it for you.”

He babbled a load of thanks, then jogged out of the gym.

I gaped at her. “You’re not going to do it, are you?”

Nadia chuckled. “Of course not. He may be coaching Travis Connolly and Rufus Lampani for the US Open, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to clean up his mess.” She pointed with her chin over to the machine Peter had just vacated. “Come on, V, I’ll show you how I’m going to deal with this.”

I followed her, grinning. Her tone told me that it was going to be something fun. Well, for us, anyway. Probably not for Peter.

Sure enough, when she returned from the room off the side of the gym, she had a pad of paper and a pen in her hands. Deliberately shielding the pad from my view, she wrote something down, then pulled off the top sheet. Folding it, she then propped it on the sweat-slicked seat so the writing was on view to anyone who happened past.

When I’d read and absorbed the words, I turned to Nadia, impressed. Her smile lit up her face, showing dimples in each cheek, and her brown eyes gleamed with amusement.

It was in that moment that I decided I had the serious hots for Nadia Gorlando.

The sign read,

PLEASE EXCUSE THE STATE OF THIS MACHINE. PETER ROSS, TENNIS COACH SUPREMO, “LOST TRACK OF TIME”.

*****

A Raw Talent book.

Virginia Miller is an up-and-coming tennis star. She’s gone from a ratty tennis court in a park in south London, England, to the world’s top training facility—Los Carlos Tennis Academy in California. In awe of the talent around her, Virginia is all the more determined to make the most of the opportunity and show that she’s worthy of her place there. Her mentor, Nadia Gorlando, has every faith in her.

But Virginia finds herself distracted—Nadia, as well as being a top-notch tennis player, is seriously sexy, and Virginia’s mind keeps wandering where it shouldn’t. Will her crush get in the way of her career, or can she find a way to push the other woman out of her mind before it’s too late?

Buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/sweet-spot/

Add to Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/21521972-sweet-spot

*****

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women’s Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

*****

GIVEAWAY!

HOSTS – a Rafflecopter giveaway

Welcome to Rawhide, the most exclusive private dungeon in San Antonio, Texas. If you’re lucky enough to be invited, you never know who you’ll run into there.

Spurred to Submission  is the 6^th book in the series and takes a little different turn.

A Recommended Read from All Romance eBooks.

Be sure to leave me a comment. One lucky person will win
a copy of Rawhide #1: Crack the Whip.

When the death of their fathers brings Zoe Hampton and Max Cameron back to Big Spur, she hopes for two things—to show the hot shot New York lawyer she’s not a little girl anymore and the ranch he hates could actually ease the pain of the past. She’s got her work cut out for her on both accounts, and she doesn’t know whether to kick Wade into next week or jump his bones. Wade hates the ranch almost as much as he hated his father, and the only reason he’s home is to bury one and sell the other. But the old man’s will puts a hitch in Wade’s plans. Zoe spurs the Dom in him to take her over his knee for a spanking they’ll both enjoy. Even finding release at a private BDSM club becomes impossible.…until the night Zoe follows Wade to Rawhide.

Excerpt:

“Will tells me we’ve got a good crop of calves to brand this year.”

Wade’s voice behind her startled her out of her reverie and she lost her balance, tumbling into the pen. Before she could get to her feet he had climbed in beside her and stood looking down at her.

She spit dust from her mouth and glowered at him. “Aren’t you even going to offer to help me up?”

He stared down at her then shocked her by lowering his body over hers, his legs bracketing her as he knelt in the dirt. His long fingers wrapped around her wrists, holding them down to either side of her head, imprisoning her in the dirt. His grip was so tight as to be painful, and it shocked her to realize that it gave her pleasure.

Wade bent low over her until his face was just inches away. His eyes darkened to the color of burnt chocolate again and a muscle ticked in his cheek. He wasn’t as unaffected as he wanted her to think. That kiss yesterday might have been meant to frighten her, just as he was trying to do now, but it was very clear he was affected by it. Probably more than he wanted to acknowledge.

Instead of struggling Zoe lay on the ground beneath him, waiting to see what he’d do next.

“You know what I’d like to do to you, little girl?” he ground out.

“What?” The word came out in a breathy rush of air. “What would you like to do to me, Wade?”

“Things that would scare the shit out of you.”

He was holding her forcibly in place, apparently unaware she wasn’t attempting to get up. He was holding most of his weight on his knees so he didn’t crush her but she was essentially completely helpless. His crotch was practically at eye level and there was no mistaking the prominent bulge. Oh, yeah. He was as hard as she was instantly wet.

“You think so?” She licked her lower lip, seeing the heat flare in his eyes again and knowing she was pulling the tiger’s tail. “You might be surprised.”

He stared at her for so long she wondered if he ever planned to speak or move. Without warning he rose to his feet, pulling her with him. Imprisoning her wrists with one hand he swept her over his shoulder and stomped into the barn with her. Before she realized what he was doing he carried her into the tack room and slammed the door shut, sliding the bolt into place to keep it locked.

“Big talker,” he ground out. “Let’s see where that big talk gets you.”

Grabbing a coiled length of rope hanging on a peg he wound it around her wrists, tying it off and fastening the other end on a nail high up on the wall. Her arms were now stretched high over her head, forcing her to stand on tiptoe. Wade kept his gaze locked with hers as he worked, obviously watching for signs of fear or resentment or—who knew what. She knew she should be terrified, or at least alarmed. This might be Wade, who she’d known since she was born, but in the twenty years since she’d last seen him, who knew how much he’d changed? What he’d become? Her brain told her she should either demand he release her—or beg him. But her brain seemed to be disconnected from her body. The edge of fear crawling through her was wrapped in a blanket of suddenly exploding lust.

Who knew how much his control and dominance would turn her on? She could take this as far as he could.

Buy Links: Amazon | ARe | B& N | Kobo

Known the world over as the oldest living author of erotic romance, and referred to by USA Today as the Nora Roberts of erotic romance, Desiree Holt is three times a finalist for an EPIC E-Book Award (and a winner in 2014), a nominee for a Romantic Times Reviewers Choice Award, winner of the first 5 Heart Sweetheart of the Year Award at The Romance Studio as well as twice a CAPA Award winner for best BDSM book of the year, and winner of the Holt Medallion for Excellence in Romance Literature. She has been featured on CBS Sunday Morning and in The Village Voice, The Daily Beast, USA Today, The (London) Daily Mail, The New Delhi Times and numerous other national and international publications.

“Desiree Holt is the most amazing erotica author of our time and each story is more fulfilling then the last.” (Romance Junkies)

Learn more about her and read her novels here:
www.desireeholt.com
www.desiremeonly.com
www.facebook.com/desireeholtauthor
Twitter @desireeholt
Pinterest: desiree02holt
Also on LinkedIn and Google+

Thank you to Delilah for sharing her blog with me! I’ve never really been a big believer in the adage, write what you know. That doesn’t apply to mystery or thriller authors, so why should we feel hemmed in as romance authors? But sometimes, writing what is close to our heart can be a magical experience. So it’s not so much a rule but a wonderful suggestion. And of course, research can bring the knowledge that runs secondary to a bang-up idea.

When it comes to military romance, though, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that I’d be writing what I know. My husband is a senior NCO (Non-Commissioned Officer) in the Canadian Armed Forces, and I couldn’t be prouder of his service. But, but, but … there was that little voice at the back of my head, wanting to be extra careful not to inadvertently write something that I shouldn’t. And so I didn’t write a military romance at first. Not until we started to talk seriously about the SEALs of Summer Military Romance Superbundle did I tackle writing one of my favourite sub-genres to read.

I thought I was safe, writing about SEALs. Different nationality. Lots of series potential there. No temptation to write similar stories, closer to home.

Ha. How wrong I was. Ever since finishing Fall Out, my novella in the box set, I’ve been plagued with plot bunnies for a series set around a Canadian army reserve unit. Soldiers who have civilian lives as well. Cops, firefighters, paramedics, contractors and park rangers who all serve their country as well. I wasn’t sure how my husband would take the idea, but when I brought it up, he just smiled and told me it sounded great. *phew*

So I’m thrilled to announce that Pine Harbour, a small town contemporary romance series with part-time military heroes, will launch at the end of August. Here is an excerpt from Book 1, Love in a Small Town.

EXCERPT:

IT was bad enough that after going through a very public divorce from the man Olivia still loved, she had to serve him breakfast four times a week. That she looked forward to those mornings…well, that wasn’t great either. But Rafe worked two jobs and lived in a tiny one room apartment. And the other option for eggs and bacon was his mother’s cafe.

Liv shuddered at the thought of spending even one morning a week with her ex mother-in-law. So she couldn’t fault Rafe for keeping his regular stool at the diner she worked at, even if it didn’t help the official party line held by all six hundred people in their small town of Pine Harbour—that their split had been her fault and Rafe was faultless.

The former point was true. The latter was not. Parsing the difference with the town busy-bodies was a futile effort, though, so she let the whispers slide. They just added to the steaming pile of crap that was her life.

But the absolute worst was that today, Rafe had brought a date to breakfast. To her diner.

And she’d serve him eggs and paste on a smile, but then she was calling a real estate agent. Whatever cosmic joke had made her fall in love with Rafe Minelli had dealt its final punchline.

He wasn’t in uniform today—either of them—but he still looked achingly good. Faded blue jeans that she recognized from the irregular rip on one of his solid thighs. Old enough that she’d washed them many times. The denim would be soft, and when he turned around, his wallet would be clearly imprinted in his back right pocket. And even though she wanted to grab a butter knife and gouge his heart out, first she wanted one more look at his magnificent ass.

Because she was a glutton for punishment, and Rafe delivered in bucket loads. Tall, dark, and handsome didn’t do him justice. Olivia grabbed a wash cloth and wiped down the counter as she watched him guide his date to a booth under the window.

No! She wanted to shout. You sit at the counter and ask me if it’s been busy. I bug you that you need a hair cut and we both remember that time I gave you a trim in the bathroom. How you slid your hands under my shirt and teased my nipples while I squealed for you to hold still. The walk down memory lane cut sharper than usual because it wasn’t shared. Even though she knew she needed to move on, let go of Rafe and start dating again, she wasn’t prepared to see him do just that. And the pretty blonde woman sitting across from him twisting the shit out of a sugar packet was wearing one of his plaid shirts, so Olivia couldn’t even pretend it was a breakfast meeting—not that Rafe would ever have business that needed to be discussed in a diner.

He was a full-time police officer and a part-time soldier. Had been a full-time son and a part-time husband, too. No room for a wife, definitely no room for a side job. No, this was definitely a morning-after-a-sleep-over breakfast and Olivia had to serve him fucking coffee. She wrenched the carafe from the warmer, grabbed two menus from under the counter, and pasted on her sweetest eat-shit-and-die smile before squaring her shoulders and approaching the couple.

“Coffee?”

They both nodded and Olivia silently lifted each of their white ceramic mugs and poured. For someone who just got laid, Rafe didn’t look happy. His eyebrows were pulled together, hooding his gaze, and he had faint dark circles under his eyes. Maybe he was realizing just how awful a human being he was to bring…

“Do you need to see a menu, Natalie?” His voice sounded strained too. He dumped two creamers in his cup and stirred roughly.

Natalie, huh? Olivia swung her gaze to the other woman. She looked nervous. Had he told her that he used to be married to their waitress? Used to wake her up with his tongue and his hands and his love, but not as often as he didn’t—he’d have to be home for that—and now they pretended to be friends a few times a week?

“I’ll just have some toast, please,” she said quietly.

Rafe sighed. “Don’t be silly.” He looked up at Olivia, his dark brown eyes unreadable. “Two breakfast specials please, one with bacon, one with—” He broke off and turned back to Natalie. “Sausage? Ham?”

“Sausage, I guess. Look, I can just wait for my friend outside, we don’t need to have breakfast.”

“It’s fine.” He reached across the table and squeezed her hand before looking back at Olivia again. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“We’re swamped,” she said breezily, waving at the mostly empty diner. “I’ve got ketchup bottles to refill and napkins to stack, so—”

“One minute, Liv.” He pushed out of the booth and towered over her. “In private.”

He didn’t wait for her to respond, stalking to the small office behind the washrooms like he owned the place. Well, he could wait. She had a job to do, even if it wasn’t exciting or overly important.

“Natalie, is it? How did you want your eggs?” Rafe wanted his over-easy. At some point in the future, she’d forget all the stupid little things she knew about him. She hoped. Hadn’t happened yet.

“Scrambled. And rye toast if you have it.”

“Sure thing. Be right back.” She went straight to the pass through window, dinged the bell and tacked the order up on the carousel. Frank gave her a knowing look from his perch at the grill. “Shut up,” she told her boss without malice. “I need five minutes.”

“I’ll holler if anyone comes in, I guess.”

If anyone came in, they’d pour themselves a cup of coffee and wait. She wasn’t worried. It wouldn’t be the first time Pine Harbour had heard Rafe and Olivia Minelli have a knock-down, drag-out fight. Probably wouldn’t be the last. Another reason she needed to leave. This couldn’t be her future—petty jealousy and tension filled terse conversations with her ex. She took a deep breath and shoved the office door open.

WANT TO READ MORE? Everyone on my mailing list will be given first dips on Advance Review Copies of this novel at the end of July.

I have a Pinterest inspiration board for this series, and my Facebook reader group, the Wardham Ambassadors, have seen more of the above scene.

Want to know more about my books? Visit my website or connect with me on Facebook

I have been a storyteller since I learned to write. I still have the first two short stories I wrote in the first grade. My very first story had a shape shifting witch and a sea monster. My fascination with fantasy and magic started at that early age and continued on, fueled by a diet of fantasy and fairy tales—the darker, the better. I haven’t yet seen Maleficent, but I’m looking forward to it, it’s the kind of movie I would have loved as a kid—and still love as an adult. Summer movie fare is all about escapism and adventure and the summer of 2014 is shaping up to be a memorable one with heroes, villains, quests and, at the heart of most every story, a romance. But let’s talk about fairy tales, as they are particularly near and dear to my heart this summer.

Fairy tales have made a huge resurgence in popular culture in the last decade. We’ve seen retellings of everything from Cinderella to Hansel and Gretel, in both blockbuster films and on television and cable. It’s not surprising that we’re starting to see stories of the villains being told—after all, sometimes the evil characters are the most interesting… right? And sometimes, they turn out not to be evil at all.

I just edited my third collection of erotic romance fairy tales for Cleis Press and it is darker, edgier and, I think, even better than the previous two collections, Fairy Tale Lust and Lustfully Ever After. A Princess Bound: Naughty Fairy Tales for Women goes where I haven’t gone before, bringing a BDSM twist to the fairy tale genre. Since this is a genre that is one of my first and enduring loves, I wanted to create a one-of-a-kind anthology for readers like me, who grew up heavily influenced by fairy tales and longing for both the nostalgia of those fantasy tales and a little something.. sexier.

Fairy tales tap into our deepest fantasies and darkest desires, weaving both the magical and historical into larger than life adventures of courage, quests, true love and good conquering evil. A Princess Bound has all of the classic fairy tale elements, along with sexy, kinky romance!

Here is an excerpt from the lovely, erotic story “Sealed” by Laila Blake:

When James Edward Dowascath met his future wife for the first time, he was a young lad of nineteen years, strong and full of dreams and desires. When he met her again, seven years later, the years of waiting and thinking of his one true love had turned him prematurely grim and solitary.

The first time, it was by chance. He had spent a long day at a cousin’s wedding in Kirkwall—a loud event with too many people, and his aunts pushing him towards young women who all laughed too loudly at the boys who were fool enough to make advances while the girls were in packs. He’d found himself by the sea that evening, letting the sound of the waves wash his ear canals clean. And there she was, naked and bathing in the ocean, scattering the moonlight about herself like liquid silver. He had called to her and she had smiled—that beautiful, innocent smile that she still had. They had made love on the wet sand in the surf, where he had made her kneel on all fours. Afterwards they had cleaned themselves together and she had lain in his arms and she had begged him not to let her go. But James had not understood, had smiled and promised without knowing what she’d meant. He was not a man who believed in fairy tales and old myths.

The next morning, he woke up to the high tide licking at his feet and the girl was gone. He waited for her for weeks, night after night but she never came back and James grew bitter and lonely as the seasons passed.

Seven years later, he was a different man. He owned the family house and lived alone, a fisherman who nobody had called ‘young man’ in years. His lined and dour face seemed to suggest a man far older than his twenty-six years. And one night, it was another full moon, he was awoken by a rap at the door.

There she was, his girl. Unlike him, she had not changed, not at all, she was still naked and soft and she still shimmered in the moon-light. Her eyes met his and her hand, still cold and wet, ran over his saddened, aged features as though she could wash the years away.

“Why did you let me go?” she asked. And that night, he tied her to his bed and he made her scream and writhe and beg and whimper like he had never seen a woman before, in pleasure he hadn’t known was possible. In the morning, her wrists and ankles had been red with rope burn and she’d told him what to do: how to find her skin and how to burn it so that the pull of the ocean could not draw her away from him like the tide.

While I can’t wait to see Maleficent for my own entertainment, it does put in me in the mood to edit a collection of erotic fairy tales based on villains. What do you think? Would you like to read an anthology of erotic romance where the evil queen finds true love (and lust) and that twisted little fellow Rumplestiltskin meets his match in an erotic battle of the wits? Hmm…

Where you can find A Princess Bound: Naught Fairy Tales for Women:
Cleis Press: http://www.cleispress.com/book_page.php?book_id=604
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Princess-Bound-Naughty-Fairy-Tales/dp/1627780351/
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-princess-bound-kristina-wright/1116957211?ean=9781627780353

More about Kristina Wright:
Website/blog: kristinawright.com
Facebook: facebook.com/kristinacw
Twitter: twitter.com/kristinawright

By the time this blog posts I’ll be in St. Thomas, USVI. I’m there for my nephews graduation from high school.  As I go for the milestone, it brings back thoughts of my own high school graduation and the emotions I was experiencing. The excitement of becoming “an adult and heading out on my own to college” and “fear of the unknown of leaving what I knew “. All these bombarded me then and now in hindsight of many years later and heading for my nephews graduation I would never have imagined I would be where I am now. I’m happy and proud of what I accomplished.

The graduation of my nephew is triple special. It is the anniversary year of my big sister (his mother) and my anniversary year. For the graduation the graduating class invites  the anniversary classes to walk as special guests and my sister is doing that. She will walk in the same year her son is graduating. In the future the 3 of us will share anniversary years although they are decades apart. While you are reading this, I’m hugging my nephew tight and telling him how proud I am of him. And in a few days when he walks to get his high school diploma I will be the proud aunty who will be weeping in joy. Happy Graduation Memories my wonderful nephew.

****

Taige Crenshaw is a multi-published author with books available at Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Liquid Silver Books, Loose Id, and Totally Bound. Taige has been enthralled with the written word from time she picked up her first book. It wasn’t long before she started to make up her own tales of romance. With novels set in today, in alternate dimensions, or in the future she writes with adventure, fun sassy heroine’s, and sexy hero’s. Always hard at work creating new and exciting places Taige can be found curled up with a hot novel with exciting characters when she is not creating her own. Join her in the fun, frolic, interesting people and far reaches of the world in her novels. You can find out more about Taige at her website: http://www.taigecrenshaw.com or blog: http://www.taigecrenshaw.com/blog.

Immortal Bloodlines — When temptation rises giving in is the more than sweet.

Buy here

The nostalgia bug bit me not long ago. Maybe it’s pre-menopausal hormones. Or it could be my fan-girl obsession with Miranda Lambert and her reminiscence-themed songs, “House That Built Me” and “Automatic.” Add to that my recent visit home to the small Midwest town I grew up in, and that bug really got a hold of me.

As I traveled through town, I caught a glimpse of the abandoned brick liquor store my friends and I used to haunt because of its massive candy and ice-cream inventory. (Well, at least it seemed massive at the time.) Once a week, my widowed mother would give me what she could—fifty cents, or seventy-five if she’d clipped enough coupons. It would be a humid summer afternoon, and the neighborhood gang would traipse barefoot and sunburned down the hill and slip into the air-conditioned store. (Ah, such a luxury. At home, we only had a single fan to share among a family of six.) I would stand for long sessions drooling over all the candy choices, picking my favorites, counting my pennies and nickels to assure I stayed within my budget.

During that recent trip, there were two old-fashioned candies that came flooding back to me as soon as I spied that store: B-B Bats and Kits.

Mmm, do you remember them?

B-B Bats were taffy on sticks, and Kits were small packages of four individually wrapped squares of the same kind of taffy. They came in vanilla, peanut butter, strawberry, and chocolate. Chocolate was my favorite, while strawberry and vanilla scored a close second. I never chose peanut butter. Ick.

Anyway, the memory of that sweet, chewy taffy remained with me until I returned from my trip. I wondered and hoped and prayed…do they still make them? So I did an internet search and got an instant hit—an awesome website, Old Time Candy, that sells old-fashioned candy, retro toys, and party-favor gadgets from your childhood. It also provides the history of when they began making each product, what company manufactured it, and who has taken over the production, if at all.

I learned that B-B Bats were introduced in the 1920s in Johnson City, New York by Fair Play Caramel Company. They are still available in four flavors (again, no peanut butter for me!), and can be purchased online and shipped right to me! How cool.

Kits were also made by the same company, and are still available, as well. I’m ordering a stock of them both for my kitchen candy drawer, and I plan to introduce them to my future grandkids…whenever that happens. (Hint-hint, my dear kiddos!)

So you see? You really can “go home again.”

To prove it to yourself, allow the memories to flow and go explore Old Time Candy. What nostalgic candy, food or toys do you remember from your childhood?

Bio: Titania Ladley is an erotic romance author published with Ellora’s Cave, Samhain, and Red Sage. She writes in multiple genres including contemporary, paranormal, historical, LGBT and BDSM. Visit her on the web at http://www.TitaniaLadley.com

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Links for candy:
B-B Bats
Kits
Old Time Candy