In Japan, it’s traditional to have KFC for Christmas dinner. (Some great marketing going on there.)
Queen Victoria sent the first official Christmas card. The first commercial one was designed and produced by Sir Henry Cole in 1843. He’s the original Old King Cole – an inventor who helped r er who worked closely with Prince Albert. He also founded the National Art Training School which later became The Royal College of Art. He made 100 Christmas cards and sold them for one shilling each. Only twelve exist now and one sold at auction for £30,000.
25th December wasn’t always the date of Christ’s birth. Scholars believe he may have been born in Spring. When the Romans adopted Christianity, they had to relinquish their Saturnalia celebration on the shortest day. Rather than move the party, they decided Christ was born close to the Winter Solstice.
Saint Nicolas was fourth century bishop. He gave away a fortune to the poor and helped women in servitude. We sometimes call him Saint Nick. In Holland, his name was translated more literally. Saint Nicolas became Santa Klaas. This was anglicied into Sata Claus. No one recorded if he had a jolly laugh, but we know he didn’t wear a red suit until Coca Cola came along and gave him a makeover.
And my favorite Christmas fact?
Astronauts broadcast "Jingle Bells" from space
Nine days before Christmas in 1965, two astronauts aboard the Gemini 6 told Mission Control that they saw an "unidentified flying object" about to enter Earth's atmosphere, traveling in the polar orbit from north to south. Just as things got tense, they interrupted the broadcast with “Jingle Bells,” as Wally Schirra played a small harmonica accompanied by Tom Stafford shaking a handful of small sleigh bells.
I'v always loved Christmas. That's probably why I wrote a Christmas story. Abigail loved Christmas too, but her family not so much. Read about her first Christmas with Jared Armstrong, and how he made it special.
Former Marine Jared Armstrong—aka Masked Dom, Master Jay—strips sassy sub, Kitty Gail before spanking her bare bottom long and hard. Afterward, he makes her scream with intense, helpless pleasure. He wants to scene with her again. She refuses and flees Masked Night’s BDSM club in tears.
Frumpy schoolteacher Abigail Montgomery abandons her masked BDSM identity, Kitty Gail. She needs to marry for her brother to inherit their great-aunt’s fortune. Lacking confidence and looks, she advertises for a man willing to wed her.
Needing cash to help his family, Jared answers Abigail’s advert. He marries her, but without their masks, neither recognizes the other. He’s delighted that his new wife enjoys spanking and the scorching hot pleasure that follows.
Gangsters murdered one of his family. Wanting Abigail’s inheritance, they kidnap her. Can this former Marine save her? And, as Christmas looms, can their marriage survive? Or will he take her money and run?
Author’s note.Mobsters, Marriage and the Marine includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don't buy this book.
A standalone story from the Heroes of Westhorpe Ridge Series.
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Abigail straightened her blonde wig and put on her mask. After a deep breath, she strutted into the Masked Nights BDSM club. In her blue lycra catsuit, she felt like Catwoman. Everyone went incognito here. The club’s vetting committee assigned everyone false names. Tonight, she’d become sassy sub, Kitty Gail. She loved having such a sensual, submissive alter ego.
The pleasured moans of the woman bound to a Saint Andrew’s Cross echoed through the room. Every time her lover lashed her thighs with a suede flogger, cum dripped from her cunt. Abigail envied her. Not that she’d agree to anything that left marks on her flesh.
Knowing she’d never come back here added an extra swagger to her step. Not having her monthly spanking would be…difficult. In the real world, she covered her body with baggy jumpers and shapeless skirts.
Her family always disdained her generous curves. She’d hated it when her Great-aunt Edith twisted her lips into a sneer. “Your breasts are so big they make you look common.”
Worse, her mother usually sighed and added, “Do cover up, dear.”
A scared little girl hid inside her. Damn it, she needed those two hours of giving up control to one of the club’s Doms. Her monthly visits kept her grounded. They reminded her of how much she’d moved on from her family’s disapproval, too. The mind-blowing orgasms that followed were an added bonus.
Away from the club, self-doubt ate at her confidence. Here, tonight, she’d hook-up with the sexiest Dom ever. Then Kitty Gail would hang up her catsuit. Her everyday persona—a boring schoolteacher—was duller than a cloudy day. She was stuck in a dreary rut, and she hated that.
Across the room, she spotted Master Jay at the soft drinks bar. His plain black mask covered the upper half of his face. His neatly trimmed beard and mustache disguised the rest of his features. He reminded her of a bewhiskered version of Zorro.
She’d watched him on her last three visits. The way he lavished attention on his subs fascinated her. Her family never showed her that level of care, and she ached to experience it first-hand.
She wondered what he looked like beneath all his facial hair and without the broad band of black fabric over his eyes. Not that she’d ever find out. Keeping their identities secret topped the club’s priorities.