My idea of Christmas, whether old-fashioned or modern, is very simple: loving others. Come to think of it, why do we have to wait for Christmas to do that?

Oh Christmas Tree, Oh Christmas Tree! For some of us, when we think of Christmas one of the first things that come to mind is the Tree, and those of us of a certain age may even think of poor Charlie Brown. Look at that poor Christmas Tree! Poor Charlie Brown. Yes, you may have heard of poor Charlie Brown and his Christmas Tree! Ah, poor Charlie Brown Christmas Tree! But, Charlie Brown did not let that poor Christmas Tree dampen his Christmas spirit.

Look inside yourselves and let that spirit soar. Soar high into the heavens above!

Its Christmas, The best time of the year, people seem to change for the good, with a little more love and a lot more cheer. Our dreams come alive again, and hope rises to the top. Families smile and grin and some how we find the means to shop, even though we only have a little to give, we love a lot.

Feel the spirit, breathe it in deep, and then try to share it. For those Christmas memories are ours to keep filled with love, kindness, and Christmas Merit.

For me, Christmas isn’t just a time for celebrating the joys of the present; it’s also a time for celebrating the memories of Christmases past. A time for remembering the anticipation that kept your little heart pounding and your eyes open as you reluctantly laid head to pillow on Christmas Eve, listening for the scratch of reindeer hooves on your rooftop. For recalling the swell of joy as you awakened the next morning, your mind barely able to absorb the fact that after 364 long days of waiting, Christmas Day was finally, finally here.

It might be clichéd to discuss keeping this feeling all year ’round, but if we could capture it and keep it in a jar, it would be the most wonderful thing. This season, this “plentitude of peace” we feel at this time of year is perfect – it might not last long enough for some. Whether you believe in God or Santa, both or neither – Christmas is wonderful. It’s magical, indeed it’s one of the last magical things we have left.

Blissemas is… Cinnamon, snow flurries, mixed spice, oranges, red, gold, green, silver, bells, pine needles, miracles, Santa, Muppets Christmas Carol, Christmas “specials” re-runs, Home, Family, Warmth, Twinkling fairy lights, Love, Tinsel, Music!! It’s Driving Home for Christmas.. It’s freezing nights, food and drink, sharing and coming together.

It’s Blissemas and it’s a miracle. Every year.

Wooo, Snowed in at School is released today, yay!

Here’s a warming excerpt for you!

“Here,” I passed a bowl to Gary and his cold fingers touched mine as he took it from me, “this will warm you up.”

“Thanks.” He smiled and took a spoon from me. “Has it stopped snowing yet?”
The staffroom had one small window and I glanced towards it. “No, it’s still coming down quite heavily.”
“Damn, it looks like we’re well and truly stuck here then.” He sighed and then sipped on a spoonful of soup.
“Yes, I think we are. There are worse places to be stuck though.”
“And far worse people to be stuck with,” he said with a wink.

“Exactly, let’s think positively about all this,” I replied. “Are you feeling any warmer yet?”
“A little.” He nodded. “My legs are still cold though. I wish I hadn’t gone into that snow.”
“You’ll be fine in a bit, but I have to say ‘I told you so’.”
“You did! It didn’t look so bad until I stepped into it. Although I doubt a shovel would make much difference the way the snow is coming down now.”
“No, you’re right, I’m not sure any amount of shovelling would get us out of here anytime soon.”

We sat in silence for a while, the only noises being that of spoon against bowl and the clicking of the heater as it flung out its warmth. I was stuck for words. I didn’t know what to say. When I talked to Gary usually it was about school matters, but that seemed like a silly subject given the circumstances.

“Great soup.” He put down his bowl. “Thanks.”
“Oh, it was my pleasure.” I chuckled. “All the hours I slaved over this tin of soup were definitely worth it.”
“Ha, well, I’d have struggled even to do that. It’s a damn good job you had your shopping with you.”
“It is or we’d be scavenging for food right now.”
“I bet we could find some interesting things in the lunchboxes the kids have left.”
“Interesting, certainly, I’m not so sure they’d be edible though.” I grimaced at the thought as I picked up the bowls and put them inside the pan. “I’ll go and wash up. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
“I can do those for you—” he started but I wouldn’t let him finish.

“No, you stay there, you need to get warm, plus your jeans are still wet and you can’t be wandering around the cold school in just your undies and my lilac fleece.”
“Fair point.” He nodded. “The kids would have a field day if they could see me like this.”
“Good job it’s just you and me then,” I replied with a grin. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Won’t be long.”

I hurried down to the kitchen. It really was quite chilly in the old school building now and I did not want to be out of the warmth of the staff room for long, plus I wanted to make the most of being stuck with Gary. I’d already got him halfway undressed, maybe it wasn’t such a far-fetched idea that I could get him to go the whole hog.

On the way back upstairs I nipped into my classroom and picked up a few things. When I walked into the staffroom Gary was frantically rubbing his hands together.

“Are you still cold?” I asked, and he nodded. “Oh, dear.”
I dropped the CD player onto the sideboard and plugged it in. I switched it on then walked over to Gary.
“I thought we could do with some background noise,” I said as the first notes of Last Christmas hit our ears, “and a bit of Christmas spirit too.”
“Sure,” he replied, “it can’t do any harm.”
“Now, we need to sort you out. Where do you feel the coldest?”
“My feet,” he replied without a moment’s hesitation.
I sat directly in front of him on the floor and crossed my legs.

“Right, let’s have a look.” I picked up his right foot and I could instantly feel the problem. “Damn, they are cold.”
“Yes,” he replied in a long, slow exhalation. “Really damn cold.”

I take his foot into my hands and began to rub. “We need to get some heat into these or, and I don’t want to sound overly dramatic here, you’re going to be in trouble. You don’t mind me touching your feet do you?”
“No,” he gasped as I looked up into his face. “No, I don’t mind.”

I continued to rub. I cupped the foot in one hand and used the other to chafe some heat into his very cold skin. I let his foot settle into the cup of my crossed legs and pulled his other one in to join it.

“Might as well do both at once,” I said, very aware of the change in atmosphere around us. Suddenly the air seemed heavy, and not just because I had finally entered the ring of warmth thrown out by my heater. “They both need warming up.”

I squeezed a hand around each foot, and massaged. It seemed like an incredibly intimate act; after all, you do not go around touching strangers feet. I heard his breathing deepen and I glanced up to see his eyes were closed and his head back. He liked it then. I quickly looked back down before he caught me looking at him and concentrated on his feet. I tried really hard to ignore the pressure of my jeans on my crotch and the dampening of my knickers.

I moved both hands on to his left foot and massaged his toes gently, feeling the warmth of my fingers slowly transfer to his surprisingly soft skin.

I lost myself in touch. My other senses took a back seat and the sensation of touch kept me going. I felt the heat on my back, the softness of his feet, and the rough outline of his bones beneath the skin. I touched him and revelled in the contact. In school life, day to day, I rarely got a chance to touch him at all, maybe the odd handshake or touch of the shoulder, but I was touching him in an intimate way and for more than just a brief second.

I realised my own breathing was coming out in slow, laboured gasps and that my whole body tingled from top to toe; like when I know I’m going to set time aside to masturbate and the anticipation prickles across my skin.

I heard a moan and for a moment I wondered if it was me, but no, I decided as I continued to rub warmth into the feet in my lap, it hadn’t been me. I looked up and straight into Gary’s mellow maple syrup stare.

“Are they feeling any warmer now?” I asked then gulped; my mouth felt very dry.
“Yes,” he replied, low and soft like an intimate whisper. “Much warmer.”

To find out what happens next pick Snowed in at School up from Silver Publishing and give it a read!

And now, I’ll let you know that all the Merry Blissemas Comments were totted up, written on bits of paper and plunged into the winter bobble hat of joy and my Handsome, Hunky Hubby pulled out names. All the winners have been contacted by email and I send my congrats to one and all. Thanks for all your wonderful comments and I hope you’ll continue to pop in and chat to me as I’ve really enjoyed reading what you’ve had to say.

If I don’t get back to my blog before Christmas Day I’ll wish you all a very Merry Christmas right now. Enjoy every moment of the season, I know I will!

Today! Yep, it’s released from Silver Publishing tomorrow but Snowed in at School, the latest Blisse tale is available to download from All Romance Ebooks today, so if you simply can’t wait ARE have come to your rescue, Christmas has come early!

The weather outside is frightful…

Gary and Lucy, two teachers, are snowed in the school together on Christmas Eve. Gary tries to wade across the school playground to freedom but all that happens is he ends up wet and trouserless and Lucy has to work out some way to warm him up.

Could this be the ideal opportunity for her to make her sexiest fantasies come true?

Now remember today is your Last day to enter my Blissemas Contest! All you need to do is comment on this post or any of the last 15 Blissemas posts and you will be in the contest to win 15 Different Prizes!

I will announce the winners tomorrow along with a sneak peek into Snowed in at School!

Over at the Whipped Cream Blog. I’m talking all about how Christmas Spirit warms the heart. If you pop on over and answer a really simple question (the answer is in the blog) you could win a $50 Amazon or Barnes and Noble Gift Certificate!

All comments on this blog and my Whipped Cream Guest Blog will count to my Blissemas Contest there are only 2 days left to enter that now, so don’t hang about, get commenting!

No,I’m not, though we have got snow on the ground. No, on Wednesday my story Snowed in at School will be available from Silver Publishing and here’s the blurb:

The weather outside is frightful…

Gary and Lucy, two teachers, are snowed in the school together on Christmas Eve. Gary tries to wade across the school playground to freedom but all that happens is he ends up wet and trouserless and Lucy has to work out some way to warm him up.

Could this be the ideal opportunity for her to make her sexiest fantasies come true?

and an excerpt for you!

“Three reindeer and a ginger snowman, that’ll be eighty pence please, Sara.”

I took the proffered pound coin from the smiling child and gave her back the change and her bag of cakes.
“Thanks Miss Conrad,” she said and skipped off.

I really enjoyed baking for the school fairs, even though I would end up cooking into the wee hours of the morning to get everything done on time. It was watching the kids’ faces light up as they ate one of my treats which I liked the most.

“Hello Miss Conrad, how are sales?”

I nodded at Mr Stephenson, the year six teacher, and replied with a smile, “Very well, very well. The reindeer are proving particularly popular. How’s the tombola?”
“All the prizes have been won so I’m having a look around the other stalls. I had to come here first, I was afraid you might have sold out.”

“I still have a few things left, what would you like?”
“Everything looks so sweet,” he said with a cheeky smile.
I blushed and imagined that maybe he was including me in that statement. If only. Mr Stephenson was way out of my league.

He ran a hand through his dark hair and I bit my lip. I wondered what it’d be like to run my hands through his hair and I decided it would be sublime. His words jogged me from my day dream.
“Can I take a snowman biscuit, it’s ginger isn’t it?”
“Yeah, my secret gingerbread recipe, in fact.”
“Nice, I’ll have two snowmen then and a rum truffle.”
“Oh, the rum truffle is my favourite,” I chattered as I tried to still my hands enough to place his cakes into a bag, “instant Christmas in a mouthful those are.”
“Yeah, they look really succulent. I just can’t wait to get my mouth around them.”
I glanced to the side and could swear he was looking down the cleavage of my modest blouse.
“Mr Stephenson, do you want more than one?” I asked with a puzzled look.
“Oh, yes, yes,” he said, “two please, they look so good.”
“Right, well, that will be one pound twenty, sir.”

A twinge of arousal zipped from my lips to, well, my ‘womanly core’ as the romance books would put it. You see, I’d often fantasised about playing the naughty school girl to Mr Stephenson’s strict head teacher. Calling him sir made me wet.
“Okay, Miss,” he winked.

I blushed and just for a moment I wondered if he knew what was going on in my mind but his smile was so innocent and dimply he couldn’t possible know the sordid thoughts in my mind.

“Here, keep the change.”
“Thanks.” I took the money and enjoyed the brush of his hand against mine.
“Miss Conrad, Miss Conrad,” A little voice pulled me from my daydreams.
“Yes, Sam?”
“What would be nice for me mum? She’s been a bit poorly and I want to take her a treat.”
“That’s very nice of you, Sam,” I smiled. “Does she like ginger?”

As Sam ummed and ahhed I caught Mr Stephenson’s gaze; he waved and walked away. I felt so silly, like a teenager with a crush but I was seriously infatuated with the man and had been since I arrived at the school back in September.
“Miss, I said I don’t think she does, I think she’d like a mince pie. She likes mince pies.”

“Oh, right, of course.” I snapped myself out of my daydream. “These are lovely even if I do say so myself.”

* * * *

I didn’t see Mr Stephenson again until I was walking over to my car after the Christmas fair had finished. I had bags filled with empty plastic boxes in my hands and my school file under my arm.
“Let me help you with those, Lucy,” he said from behind me. “You’re going to drop something.”
He took two carrier bags from my hands and freed me to grip my file much more tightly.
“Thanks, I should have made two trips but I wanted to get home.”
“I know what you mean,” he said, “I’ve got a pile of marking to do.”
“And I’ve got my tea in the slow cooker,” I replied with a laugh. “So very glamorous.”
“Least you’ve got a nice meal waiting for you when you get home. I’ve just got my marking.”
This was something I could never get my head around. He was such a handsome chap, kind, witty and all yet he was single in his late thirties. I’d have snapped him up years ago if I’d known him. I’d have given it a good go anyway.
“There’s something not right here, you know. I think we’re married to the job.” I grinned wryly.

“You’re right,” he said as I opened the boot of my car. “One of these days I might just get a life outside the classroom, you know?”

“I hear you,” I nodded and took the bags from him trying not to look too hard at his long, strong fingers or his thick juicy palms. I knew if I noticed them I would conjure up images in my mind of his raised hand over my naked backside as I bent over his lap ready for my longed-for punishment.

“Are you okay?” he asked and I looked back up to his confused face.

“Oh, yes, yes. I’m just tired, need to get home. Thanks for your help. I’ll see you bright and early in the morning, all right?”
“Yes, you young ones need your sleep,” he laughed and walked off in the direction of his car.

“Young one?” I laughed, “I’m only ten years younger than you, Mr Stephenson. I’m not that young.”
“Whatever you say, whippersnapper,” he winked and got into his battered old red car. “See you.”

“Bye,” I waved and sat down in the driver’s seat of my car. I had to face it; I had no chance with Mr Stephenson, Hell, I could hardly bear to think of him by his first name he was so much out of my league. He saw me as some young ward he needed to protect. He’d never see me in a sexual way; he’d never imagine kissing me, caressing me, spanking me in the way I fantasised about. Anyway, who was I trying to kid? Even if we were the same age, he’d never look at me. I’m the fat kid, always have been. My breasts blossomed early in life and my hips have always been wide. I was teased for my curves all through my school days and I knew the older kids in my current school called me fat behind my back. Why would a handsome guy like Mr. Stephenson fall for a fat kid like me?

You can pick up Snowed in at School from 22nd December!

So now, tell me who’d you’d like to be snowed in with this Christmas!