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Wednesday 24 December 2014

Christmas Eve in the Brennan Household My Naughty Little Secret #Spankingromance

Here in the Finnegan household, it's only 3 hours to midnight! The ham is parboiled, the veggies are prepared, and the place is sparkling. This year the cake comes courtesy of my son so I have to admit I am really looking forward to trying that.  I wish you all the merriest and most peaceful Christmas. May you all be healthy and happy throughout the holiday period.  Below is Christmas Eve in the Brennan household, naturally, it is kind of a mix of of truth and fiction! 

“Christmas Eve, time to hang up our stockings, yeah hurray!” chanted Aislinn at 8:00 a.m. I woke up very reluctantly.
“God, what age are you, Aislinn?” I laughed. “Did nobody tell you Santa doesn’t exist?”
She poked out her tongue at me.
“Killjoy! The stockings are the best bit. I still love them, old and all as I am.”
“Yeah, me too,” I agreed, secretly revelling in my sister’s childish behaviour and the seasonal enthusiasm.
Even after we children were too old to believe in Santa, Mam had kept the tradition of the Christmas stocking alive, to try to keep a bit of the Christmas magic in the house. She always filled the stockings with all sorts of little luxuries and frivolities that we wouldn’t buy for ourselves and we loved opening them on Christmas morning.
“Do you remember when we were small we used to plague Mammy and Daddy to let us open some presents on Christmas Eve?” added Keeva, joining in the excitement.
“All day long from when we would get up in the morning, ‘til they eventually agreed to just one, after Midnight Mass. You’d think we’d learn, but we did the same thing year after year and we never got to open one ‘til after mass. God, kids are such annoying brats really,” she laughed. “Remind me never to have any.”
“Jaysus, you’re an even bigger misery-guts than Shiv, why would you never want kids? Look at all the fun they can be,” Aislinn complained.
“Snotty noses, dirty nappies, no nights out, no leaving the house without a military operation. No, thanks.” said Keeva, shuddering at the memory of the summer job she had last year as au pair in Dublin.
“You’ll change your tune in time, mark my words,” Mam prophesised.
We had a very noisy traditional Irish breakfast of rashers, sausages, black pudding, fried eggs, and potato bread. Then we got down to the serious business of wrapping gifts and pre-preparing what food we could for Christmas Day.
Niall and Dad were put on potato and vegetable peeling duty. The giblet soup was my department, which we would have today with sandwiches and then again tomorrow before dinner. Keeva was in charge of parboiling the ham and glazing it. Aislinn was to keep clearing up after everyone so the kitchen didn’t get out of hand. Mam would collect the turkey and ham from the Flynn’s, the butchers and get the last minute supplies of milk, cream, and bread rolls. She would do the smoked salmon salad tomorrow.
“Janey Mack,” she said when she got back, “you’d think the shops are going to be shut for a month. The world and its mother are in the village. There are tailbacks on the main street.”
“Tailbacks in Easkey, Mam,” snorted Aislinn with derision, “will you stop exaggerating. There were probably five cars on the road, and that’s a tailback here.”
“Or cows going in for milking, that’s a tailback round here! Will we go to the pub later?” added Keeva hopefully; she knew some of her school friends were being allowed out tonight on account of Christmas. Mam and Dad never permitted her go to the pub, but she was hopeful they’d make an exception since I was home.
“Pub, my backside,” said Dad crossly, ruining the jollity, “we’ll all be going to Midnight Mass as usual, and you’ll not be going smelling of drink.”
“Dad, Midnight Mass is now the Christmas Vigil, it’s from nine to ten and I am planning to go to the pub after it for a couple of drinks if that’s ok. Maybe I can bring Keeva? I’ll keep an eye on her,” I reminded him, winking at Keeva.
“No more than two drinks for her,” Dad warned grumpily. Bah humbug. He needed a visit from the ghost of Christmas past to remind him what it was like to be young.

Keeva waited until Dad left the room. “Thanks, Shiv, I owe you one. You could always wrap him around your finger.”

From the moment she saw him on her first day at her new job in London, there was something about Michael which annoyed Siobhan Brennan… and something else that pulled her to this stunningly handsome man and his boldly arrogant personality. In spite of her misgivings she soon finds herself out on a date with him, and she is torn between a desire to defy him as often as possible and a deeper, more disturbing need to submit to him. It certainly doesn’t help that very embarrassing thoughts keep popping into her head uninvited: images of herself bent over, bare bottom on display, waiting for Michael to chastise her firmly.

It is not long before Siobhan, in a rash moment, actually dares Michael to spank her, only to find that he is more than up to the challenge of turning her naked backside bright red. To her horror, her sore behind only fuels the fire growing within her, and she is soon on her knees before him, blushing with shame yet needing him to take her and take her hard.

It is only afterwards that the couple must come to terms with what took place, and what it means for their relationship. Was this just a one-time event, something to be tried but never repeated, or will Siobhan find herself punished like a naughty girl again in the future? As scandalized as it makes her feel, in her heart she knows what she needs, but is Michael prepared to give it to her? And when she finds out that Michael has kept something important from her about his past and who he really is, will she be able to forgive him or will the revelation tear them apart forever?

Publisher’s Note: My Naughty Little Secret is an erotic novel that includes spankings, anal play, graphic sexual scenes, elements of BDSM, and more. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

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