Grumpy Xmas Novels & Stories

One soft click. The picture came out tasteful but teasing, enough to make him grin. She smiled, selected Darren’s name, hit send. Then tossed her phone onto the bed and poured herself a glass of cheap red wine. Next week, she'd have her bags packed, ready to head to Maysville, the small town she'd grown up in for Christmas. Her holiday plan was just perfect! Her playlist hummed to life; jazzy, lazy Christmas tunes filling the air. For the first time all day, her shoulders relaxed. She even started humming along, thinking about what tomorrow morning would look like. Morning pancakes, bad movies, Darren’s laugh…

"It's Christmas. Today is about family. I do not want to disagree." "Then how about you let her go?" Greyson approached them and stood by Indianna, standing in front of her ever so slightly. "And we can all go inside." "Ah, Greyson." Rogue looked Greyson up and down and smirked. "Don't you look the picture of health." "No, thanks to you." "Now, now, there's no need for the bitterness in your tone, Greyson. Where's your Christmas spirit?" "I promise it will fucking flow of out me if you let Tai go."

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.

Tristian laughed. "Haven doesn't think so, right?" "Doesn't matter what I think. I have bad taste." I giggled. "So true!" Aleecia laughed. "I mean Tristian is the worst." "Smartest thing to ever come out of her mouth." Grace muttered. "Gracie, please, let's have a good Christmas." Heath begged. "Don't be a grinch." "Why would you say that to me?" "I'm sorry, but it feels like you're trying to eat Christmas."

Compared to being exposed to the elements outside, at least the restroom shielded me from the storm. The silent restroom was filled only with the faint sound of my breathing and the howling wind outside. All of the hurt and past grievances that I'd deliberately tried to shove aside came flooding over me once more. I remembered what had happened last Christmas. Ava received a brand-new fur coat, and Jamie got a limited-edition werewolf figurine. What I got was a hand-me-down sweater from Ava, which she'd outgrown. The collar was already loose from repeated wear and washing, and the sleeves were fraying.

“We talked about it.” No. No, we didn’t. Slow down. Breathe. Don’t look at him too long. “Tyler,” I say, forcing my voice deeper, steadier than I feel, “I can’t spend Christmas with your family.” He glances at the small bunch of green grapes in his hand, leans against the archway like this is all mildly entertaining, plucks one free, and pops it into his mouth. Chews. Considers. “How come?” “Oh, I don’t know,” I bark. “Pick one of a hundred reasons.”

Jingle finished last, pulling from her mouth to cum across her tits, white ropes mixing with their saliva on her swollen pink nipples. They collapsed around her, bodies tangled on the rug, the fire's warmth chasing the chill. Santa kissed her forehead, Jingle nuzzled her neck, Frost traced her hip, real men, flawed and fond, in the magic of the night. "Merry Christmas, Dory," Santa murmured, voice thick with emotion. She smiled, spent and throbbing, the fantasy alive in her veins. "Best gift ever."

“I’m the luckiest bastard on earth.” She snuggled closer. “Oh, Richard—that was…just…wow.” I chuckled into her hair. “Wow is a good word.” I glanced over at the clock. “Hey, it’s past midnight. Merry Christmas.” She looked up, her blue eyes tired, sated, and happy. “Merry Christmas.” I tucked her against me. “Go to sleep. Gracie is going to come roaring in here in a few hours, demanding we get up. It’s gonna be a long-ass day.” I yawned. “But what a way to start.”

Are you kidding me? She whines in response, which, honestly, just pisses me off more. What am I supposed to do with that? ‘Stupid wolf,’ I mutter, rolling onto my side and clutching the pillow like it’s a life raft. This is officially the shittiest Christmas ever. Forget snowflakes and holiday cheer; all I’ve got is heartache and a wolf who seems to be on Team Lucas. Great. Just great. …… Mia

Judy whispered, like she was afraid her joy might scare Malaya away. Malaya's smile was smaller this time—still shy, but real. "Merry Christmas, Grandma Judy." Judy's hand flew to her mouth. Tears spilled without permission. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart," she breathed. "Oh… thank you for calling me." Jerry leaned into view, impatience playful. "And what about me, huh?" Malaya giggled. "Merry Christmas, Pawpaw." Jerry's entire face lit up. "That's my girl!"