Christmas Fiction Books Mga Nobela at Kwento

I always craved something more intense, something that would push me to my limits and beyond, leaving me broken and begging. That's what led me to this stupid idea on Christmas Eve. I was alone in my cramped apartment, the snow outside building up against the windows like a white prison wall. Bored out of my mind, I pulled out this ancient book I'd snagged from a shady thrift store downtown. It was all about old Alpine myths, and tucked away in the yellowed pages was a ritual for summoning Krampus… not the watered-down version from holiday movies, but the genuine article, the horned devil who dragged the wicked straight to hell for their sins.

She even made me wear long heels. It was dark inside. The flickering Christmas lights only did little to illuminate the space. It was cold too. Too cold, but nobody seemed to care. My eyes fell on the giant Christmas tree by the door. For the first time in my life, the sight of a Christmas tree tugged at my guilt. I was still staring at its bright colored red and green ribbons when someone suddenly grabbed it, yanking it off its stand. Then two n***d sweaty bodies came crashing against the glass door.

I have never trusted December. People say that sounds dramatic, but those people never watched their parents’ house burn down on Christmas Eve while the rest of the town kept singing carols like nothing happened. So yes,every time snow falls, my skin crawls. And tonight, on December 1st, Hallowpine is drowning in it. Snowflakes tumble from the sky like they’re drunk on holiday spirit, sticking to my eyelashes as I lock up my bakery. Sugar & Sin,the name sounds cute until you realize the only sugar inside is the kind I dump into coffee to survive this town.

Crazy. After dinner, we laid down in the bed, our body touching. My body began to react when she pressed her breast against me. “Fuck!" I cursed inwardly. “Why does she keep asking for a fuck without meaning to?" I couldn't resist her. I've never been able to, and I won't try to. I turned, and began to touch her. Her softness made my rod stand so hard, and just like me, her body reacts to my touch the way I wanted.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental. I’ll Be Home for Christmas (A Thorntons Christmas Novella) Published by Blue Violet Press LLC Seattle, Washington Copyright © 2017 by Iris Morland Cover design by Resplendent Media All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for

"Gift?" "Yes, a Christmas present." She answered. "And yours?" The lady asked. She shrugged. "Any plans for Christmas?" "Yes, me and my blanket, snuggling on my bed," she whispered and laughed. "Too cold outside." After buying the gift she was checking out of the shop when the owner gave her the booklet, the same one she wanted to buy, " A gift for your next novel. May you have a miraculous Christmas!" She winked.

They froze. Snow fell around them. Her hair brushed his jaw. His hands were on her waist. “You’re heavy,” he said. “You’re lying,” she shot back. For a heartbeat, everything else disappeared. Then— “DAAAADDYYYY!” Noelle slid into them like a missile. Sebastian groaned. Nyra burst out laughing. “This,” Nyra said between laughs, “is the best Christmas I’ve had in years.” Sebastian stood, brushing snow off. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”

I reckoned it was another neighbor, bringing me some fucked-up Christmas gift as if there were actually any Christmas celebrations happening in my life. "Yes," I forcefully pulled the door open, sharp and demanding. To my surprise, it wasn't any neighbors of mine but a delivery man. "You have a package, madam," he informed, stretching out a big white box designed with a green and red ribbon. "From whom?" I furrowed one eyebrow, taking the box. "It's anonymous, ma'am." He handed over the signing book, and I penned down my name and signature immediately amidst confusion. "Have a nice day, Merry Christmas!" The delivery man, who was dressed in a Santa outfit, bid his farewell and walked back to

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄✨✨✨✨ ‎Nora’s POV ‎Mikhail’s Family Mansion – Christmas Eve, December 25. ‎The snow falls in fat, lazy flakes outside the massive windows of Mikhail’s family mansion, turning the rolling hills into a winter wonderland straight out of a postcard. Inside, it’s a whirlwind of warmth and chaos—the kind that makes you forget about the cold world outside. The grand foyer is decked out with a towering tree loaded with twinkling lights and ornaments that look like they belong in a museum, and the air smells like pine, cinnamon, and roasting turkey. I stir the mulled wine on the stove, watching the spices swirl in the deep red liquid, feeling a little out of place but mostly content. This is

I smiled shyly at my not so secret desire anymore. THE END Thank you for reading to the end. I would be very happy to see a 1-2 sentences review with your opinion on the story. Stay safe! P.S.: If you are hungry for more stories like this - please, check my new book /not edited yet/ with the scent of cinnamon and warm Christmas mood: https://www.goodnovel.com/book_info/31000002078/null/You-want-to-be-mine Or this new steamy story /not edited yet/ about a shameless girl and her many dates: