Christmas Heat Miser Novels & Stories

He will be angry at the people who have lied to his life and trust those close to him who gave him a grain of truth. Hunter clenched his fist against the surface of the window that revealed a view of his office grounds covered with falling yellow leaves. Soon Christmas will come. He won't be able to celebrate Christmas with Mila anymore. This Christmas he will be stuck with his grumpy parents. Or worst, he'll just spend Christmas alone at home in silence.

"I'm back with Taren." Taren extended his hand. "It's nice to see you again." "The pleasure is mine," Mr. Cummings replied, shaking his hand. "What can I do for you today?" Taren glanced over at Kiki and then turned back to the man who looked so much like Santa Claus. "Christmas presents." "Christmas is over," he replied. Taren nodded, his lips curling into a smile. "Yes, but we didn't get to celebrate properly, so we're going to make up for it tonight."

Confused, she looked at the Christmas tree and at me and Isa and screeched, “fuck don’t tell me I missed Christmas? Smitty, you let me miss Christmas?” Smitty made his way into the living room where we all were muttering in a humored slur, “woman your high ass the one missed Christmas, don’t blame dat’ shit on me! You the one kept smokin’ and trickin’ not me; all I do is watches you and the money. Now go take a shower and get yourself together we hitting up the Hyatt tonight, it's money to be made.” Mama looked pitiful and shamed, she stared at the makeshift Christmas tree crying, shaking her head.

“He hates Christmas.” “Your son hates Christmas?” Molly couldn’t hide her confusion. The Kerstmans were the most Christmas-loving people she knew. “How is that even possible?” “Oh, he doesn’t hate-hate Christmas. Nicholas just isn’t the kind of person who appreciates the sentimental bits of the holiday season. He’s always been more of a facts and figures type.” Mr. Kerstman paused before he blew out a heavy breath. “Always sticks to his books and business, that one. Never has any time for wasting time.”

**Chapter 82 – Mortal Christmas** ** December 24, 2030 – Hot Springs, Arkansas** Christmas morning smells like smoked mici, fresh mămăligă, and pine needles. No rifts. No bosses. Just quiet. I wake up in my childhood bedroom—Remy sprawled beside me, one arm over my waist, braids tickling my shoulder. The crown is quiet, spinning slow and content. The system is silent too—no pings, no alerts.

It’s not what’s under the Christmas tree that matters but who’s around it. – Charlie Brown Thirty minutes after Monster invaded, Reese’s princesses were still laughing at JD as they gathered around the pool. The sun sails stayed up year-round protecting the pool and sitting area. The heat in the pool was turned up slightly causing it to give off a little steam in the cool air. The outdoor fireplace was roaring, and the portable heaters kept the whole area cozy.

He turned on the heater because he knew she didn't like the cold too much. It was a special day today, her favorite day of the year. Christmas Day. Something looked off in the room and it took her a moment to understand why the room looked different. Gift bags. They were arranged neatly on the bed, right beside her legs, some big, some medium, some small. For a second, she thought she was still dreaming. She blinked once. Then twice. Then she pushed herself up slightly on her elbows, her heart starting to beat faster. “Okay… what the hell?” she murmured.

I looked once more at my princess lying on the cold bed, I felt every inch of my body shudder with rage and fury. Exit the hospital towards the parking lot. I got into my car and left on a painful and sad path of homesickness. As I drove, I felt my muscles rotting as if a virus had taken over everything. I parked near the shore and started walking. It was already dark and the lights from the buildings adorned the city, like decorations on a Christmas tree. My Christmas miracle. What did my father mean by that?

But something was holding him back and he didn't even understand what it was. Instead, he let go of her chin. "You're going to stay here till whenever I decide what to do with you " Christiana stood right under the AC, naked and almost freezing to death. Damien kept increasing the volume of the AC till it was now to the highest, making the entire room as cold as an attic. He left the room to his study room. Christiana wrapped her hands around her arms, rubbing them to try and keep her body warm but it wasn't working. Christiana's body never did well with cold. It was one of her weaknesses. Something as little as the drizzling of the rain is enough to make catch a cold.

I carefully retrieve my claws not to scratch the freaking glittery phone case. By the time we reach the Heat Cabins, my toes are officially numb. The place looks almost too cozy for the kind of reputation it has:, warm lights glowing through frosted windows, thin streams of smoke curling from the chimneys. A middle-aged woman steps out to greet us, all blond hair, pearl necklace, and a smile so wide it looks like she’s running for president. “Welcome, ladies!” she chirps, clasping her hands together. “I’m Marissa. My grandmother founded We Heat Together back when feminism was just starting to take off among humans.”