Death Note Christmas Novels & Stories

I despised Dante Moretti long before he slid that ring onto my finger. Arrogant. Controlling. The kind of boss who could ruin my day with a single clipped order. I hated the way he spoke to me. I hated the way he watched me more. But walking into my hometown with his ring and watching my ex-husband’s face drain of color felt wickedly perfect. The elders wanted to see real love before selling their land. So Dante and I lied. We played the sweet couple. Except Dante didn’t touch me like a man pretending. At the Christmas market, his hand slid down my spine and stopped right where it shouldn’t. At dinner, he whispered against my ear, “If he’s watching, spread your legs a little. Let him see who owns you now.” I should have slapped him. Instead, my body answered him before I could breathe. He kissed my temple too slow and held my waist too tight. When the lights dimmed, he murmured, “Open for me.” “Keep your eyes on me.” “I want you shaking for me, not for him.” Somewhere between hating him and wanting him to wreck me, everything blurred. Because the man who barked orders in boardrooms had me whispering his name in the dark, Christmas lights flickering over his bare shoulders while he swallowed every sound I made. My ex wanted me broken. Dante wanted me ruined, but only beneath him. And the worst part was how easily I let him. Santa didn’t bring me a miracle. He gave me a sin in a three piece suit and I tore the wrapping off with trembling hands. As book one ends, book two: ON YOUR KNEES MR. BILLIONAIRE starts immediately

When Elijah cheated, I didn’t cry or make a scene. I pretended not to know. When he kept Naomi on the side, I forced down the pain and endured it. After all, I had a lovely son with Elijah. He loved me, and I wanted to give him a complete family. It wasn’t until the day I found out that my son, Kai, had gone with Elijah to that other home and was calling Aunt Naomi with affection that I stopped wanting to endure it any longer. I told my childhood friend that I wanted a divorce. He looked at me deeply, saying, “Hazel, everyone in Neopolis knows that Elijah loves you with his life. His influence covers the entire city. Leaving him won’t be easy.” However, I replied numbly, “Then let Hazel die. Let her die in front of Elijah. Let him watch his wife disappear with his own eyes. From that moment on, there will be no more Hazel Foster in this world.” When I learned that Kai preferred Naomi, I realized that the past two years of endurance had been nothing but a joke. This time, I don’t want either my husband or my son anymore.

I'm afflicted with a severe phobia related to socializing. Christmas is the one holiday that I fear the most. In order to escape from my relatives' incessant questions, I've spent one year digging up dirty laundry related to every single person in my family. Before going home for the holidays, I've made a secret vow that as long as my relatives don't disturb me, I will definitely keep those skeletons of theirs sealed tightly in their closets. But at the Christmas Eve dinner, these relatives insist on making me their personal doormat. My oldest uncle, Adam Burton, is the first one to start a topic in a passive-aggressive manner. "Hannah, you're not getting any younger, you know. It's one thing to not be able to nail down a job, but what's with your inability to find yourself a boyfriend, hmm? "Look at Quinn. The moment she'd graduated from college, she'd already married a rich scion." I can only smile bashfully before I lower my head and start eating from my plate in an attempt to skip the topic. But my second aunt, Zoe Brown, refuses to let it slide. She begins putting on airs as a senior member of this family while lecturing me. "Stop being so stubborn, Hannah. Adam is doing this for your own good. We're a family at the end of the day; we will never hurt you. You have to listen to our advice. Otherwise, you'll become an old and lonely woman that no one wants as a partner when the time comes." Pfft! "We're a family", she says! I think these relatives of mine just don't want me to live a nice, comfortable life as a single woman! Unable to endure it anymore, I put down my fork and lift my head. Then, I flash everyone an awkward smile. "In that case, Aunt Zoe, why don't you tell me who's more impressive in bed? Was it Uncle Caleb… or Uncle Adam? "Since we're a family, we should be honest with each other, right?"

I thought Christmas had already broken me. Betrayal, loss, and a miscarriage that shattered everything I’d built. So I did the only reckless thing a heart in ruins could do: closed my eyes, jabbed a finger at a map, and bought a ticket to wherever it landed. No plan. No hope. Just a wounded heart running from the wreckage. I wanted quiet. Snow. A place to breathe and heal. I found him instead. A man who feels too wild for this world, all heat and muscle and dark, hungry eyes. He kisses like he’s claiming something. Touches like he’s learning every secret my body holds. His strength borders on impossible. His presence, addictive. He calls me his naughty little Christmas gift. And every time he drags his mouth down my throat, I forget every reason I had to stay guarded. But the deeper I fall, the stranger things become. The room around him feels alive. The night listens when he speaks. His eyes flash with an animal glow that shouldn’t exist, and the sound he makes when he’s holding back, low, guttural, trembling the air between us doesn’t belong to any man. I should run. Ask questions. Save myself. But I’m far too gone. Even willing to be ruined by whatever he is. So I ignore the question whether I’m losing my mind, or whether the fear curling beneath the heat is real. And let him keep unwrapping me like the gift he thinks I am. Because whatever lives inside him…it’s the first thing that’s made me feel alive again.

We agreed we were going to spend Christmas together as a family of three. I briefly stepped out to grab my daughter’s Christmas gift, but quickly realized that I had forgotten my keys. However, when I came back, I was locked outside the villa. I rang the doorbell countless times, but no one came to let me in. Through the glass window, I saw my daughter happily smiling in the arms of my wife’s childhood friend who had returned from overseas. “Uncle Jones, you smell so nice. Not like my dad. He’s always sweaty and smells so gross. I don’t even want to spend Christmas with him!” My wife, Lily Quinn, looked at them indulgently and agreed. “Your dad hasn’t seen much of the world. He really doesn’t know how to celebrate holidays properly.” I froze in place as my fingers turned cold. Yara turned and saw me outside the window. Her face was filled with disgust. “What are you staring at? Why are you standing outside like some monster? You almost scared me to death! You’re not like Uncle Jones at all. He’s so elegant and well-mannered!” However, ten years ago, I was a top sales director at a well-known multinational company. Back then, I had the chance to be transferred to New York. Yet Lily unexpectedly got pregnant and suffered severe reactions. She was at constant risk of miscarriage. I voluntarily gave up that opportunity to take care of her and our daughter. Now, that sacrifice had somehow become undeniable proof of my uselessness. I took a deep breath and threw the Christmas gift I had bought for my daughter into the trash. Then I messaged someone saved in my contacts as “Apprentice”: [Is that overseas position you mentioned a few days ago still available?] The reply came almost instantly: [Of course! Mr. Lane, as long as you’re willing to come back, you’ll always have a place waiting for you!]

While we're having our dinner on Christmas Eve, my mom suddenly asks me loudly, "Do you have your chastity?" I look confused. "What?" My mom just smiles very smugly. "I knew you were the adventurous type! You must have lost it because of someone else!" After that, she shoots my husband, Louis Hartson, a knowing look. "You don't know about this yet, right? Before Yvonne married you, she was an absolute player in the dating pool. Her father and I couldn't keep her under control at all!" I widen my eyes in shock. "What are you talking about?" My mom is even happier when she sees how angry I am. "Oh? You have the guts to do it, yet you're too cowardly to admit to it?" I can only clench my fists tightly under the table after hearing my mom's slanderous accusations. Since she likes spreading baseless rumors about me this much, I'm not going to keep her secret for her anymore.

All Bethany Blakes wanted was to graduate from college and marry her childhood sweetheart, Clement, running an art gallery while living a happy married life but things went haywire when she realized she was nothing but a bet to her beloved sweetheart.  In an attempt to get rid of a urinary tract infection, she got inseminated with the sperm of a cold and ruthless billionaire, Falcon Gray who has wealth, power, a dark past and was desperately in need of an heir to secure his inheritance.  Unable to let his only chance at securing all he had toiled for slip off his fingers, he struck a deal with the final-year student to keep the baby and spend the Christmas holiday with him at his family's annual get-together but as their bond grew stronger, his dark past and undying love for his supposed fiancée Leonie Winters threatened to tear them apart. 

Molly absolutely loves Christmas. Candy canes, egg nog, mistletoe, the works. She can't get enough of it. And so it's only natural that she works at the local Christmas store, Christmas Wishes. But when the Scrooge-like Nicholas comes to town, looking to sell his father's business out from under him, it looks like Molly's dream job is disappearing. Worse yet, she's starting to fall for Nicholas, despite everything telling her not to. With one last chance to save the store, Molly appeals to the power of Christmas itself, attempting to convert Nicholas to seeing the beauty of the holiday. Can Christmas magic really make Christmas Wishes come true? Fans of Hallmark Christmas movies will be swept away by Christmas Wishes, a small-town standalone holiday romance with mistletoe and magic. Grab a glass of eggnog, sit by a warm fire, and enjoy!

On the third day after my death, Eliza Sutton received the call to claim my body. She was resting in another man's arms. She said nonchalantly, "He's dead, huh? Just cremate it and call me afterward." My body was fed to the flames and reduced to ashes. When the staff were done, they contacted Eliza again. Irritation flashed in her eyes as she snapped, "I heard you. I'm on my way."

My wife was a surgeon. She saved plenty of lives in her career. However, the only person she failed to save was me. When I was involved in an accident with her long-time crush, she immediately saved him instead. I had been dead for three months, and that was when she realized the person who had been messaging her during this time was not me and started to panic.