Christmas Fiction Books Novels & Stories

she says while rubbing her pussy in pleasure. “Sucking my dick turns you on”? She answers by sucking me so hard I almost see stars. Shit, I might have entered a deal with the devil after all and I can't wait for all the surprises I'll be getting for this Christmas even if it means my name would be on the naughty list. Christmas here I come.

It read, in big block print, “Santa’s Workshop.” “Right,” Serendipity nodded, realizing that if she could read, she would have known that. Her face lost a bit of the glimmer from before, but she still stared in awe. “How amazing!” she whispered, looking up at several stories of glass windows and the brightly dressed elves scurrying about with various toys, different patterns of wrapping paper, and other items essential to making and finishing off Christmas presents.

he confirms what he said and I nod. Very dark. He chuckles. "I just don't believe in all that" "Why?" "After the she of five, my Christmas was not so good" I nod in understanding. With all he's been through, I got to understand with him. "But do you have any tradition on that day? Like do you love to read books?" "Eew" he wrinkles his nose and I laugh. "Who reads books" "Uh...me" I say with a roll of my eyes. " I'm an English major"

I learned to be thankful and quiet. That acceptance made me hate Christmas. Love songs made my skin crawl. The lights under our tree looked like glass eyes. The ribbons on the presents were traps. Every year, the house tuned itself to cheer and I pretended to enjoy it. The twenty-fifth became the night when a new kind of cold touched my bones. It was the day the truth had crawled out at me like an animal. It was the day I had learned how much of my life had been decided by other hands.

“Here you go.” She took the flat package. “Thank you.” Turning around, she saw Lucian had followed her from the kitchen. “What’s that?” “I don’t know.” She peeled open the envelope and laughed as the sleek, stiff cover of a book peeked past the seal. She pulled it out and smiled at the sketch of a Grinch sneering back at her. Lucian frowned as he watched her. “Is that a children’s book?” “Mm-hm,” she answered, still smiling. “It’s How the Grinch Stole Christmas.”

His heart felt unsettled as if sensing something beyond his understanding. —----------------------------- Author’s Note Wishing you a joyous Christmas filled with love, laughter, and happiness. Merry Christmas! The author has three news to share on this brilliant day. 1. On this occasion, we will do a mini mass release. I will post 5 chapter of this book so that your holiday is filled with love of your favourite characters and authors.

It is for those who find beauty in tension, softness in surrender, and strength in choosing what feels true even when it is forbidden, quiet, or deeply personal. This series is a reminder that these stories lives in the same world of longing and permission you’ve come to expect from my writing, but wrapped in winter, quiet temptation, mistletoes sprinkled with a little Christmas spirit and the kind of intimacy that unfolds when rules soften and hearts stop pretending. This bonus is my way of saying thank you. Thank you for choosing my stories. Thank you for supporting my work. Also as small thank you for standing by my work, you’ll find a free bonus chapter at the end of this novella, a gift

I curled up with Chris in his bed as we watched a movie. He’s been worried about me over the past week, which I feel bad about. I hate worrying everyone. Chris surprised me with a home-cooked dinner and a movie; A Journey Back to Christmas, my favorite Christmas movie ever. I sighed as we watched, “What’s wrong?” Chris asked; I shook my head, but Chris was not about to take that for an answer. He paused the movie and straightened up, waiting for me to talk to him.

“You looked like the world was ending.” “It felt like it.” My hands moved down his chest, exploring. “Your turn.” He kissed my forehead, then my temple. “I almost quit last year. Burned out. The quiet gets heavy sometimes. But then this girl kept showing up, asking smart questions about old manuscripts. Made the days better.” “Me?” I asked, smiling. “You.” His lips found mine again. This kiss had heat behind it. His tongue brushed mine, and I melted into him. My back hit the bookshelf gently. A few books shifted but didn’t fall.

I missed my mate, my freedom, my friends, Kailin, and everyone at the vineyards. I watched a series about a group of delinquent kids born in space and dropped to Earth to see if the air was already breathable. I finished Episode twelve, and when a particular character pissed me off, I turned it off and went to read something in the study. There were some fiction books, but primarily old books from Jane Austen, Charlotte Bronte, and Herman Melville. There were self-help and meditation books and a book about mystical creatures. I walked out of the study. If she allowed me to read a book about witchcraft, it might interest me, but that would be as dangerous as walking into the darkness without