Head Elf Santa Clause Novels & Stories

The werewolves launched a massive invasion of the Elf Forest had been burned, half my people were dead, and my parents were missing. The Elf Queen asked me to go to Damien Thorne and make him stop the war. Damien Thorne. Alpha King of the North, my True Mate, the boy I'd grown up with. His sister Sera was the youngest of the three of us, and my best friend. A year ago, Sera vanished after a secret meeting. I walked out of the forest alive. He didn't — and to him, that was proof enough. He went mad. He burned the sacred trees, slaughtered my people, turned every drop of his hate on me. But he still loved me. So I went. He locked me in his study and fucked me for nine days. Even when I slept,his eyes full of something I couldn't read — madness, and pain. On the tenth day, he kissed his way down my spine, so gentle I let myself think it wasn't too late. The next second, the dagger went into my shoulder blade, straight through the root of my light-wing. The pain detonated from my spine to the crown of my skull. "Shh. Don't scream." He pressed my face into the pillow. "These nine days were the warm-up. Tell me where Sera is." He locked me in the dungeon. He used my people's lives as a leash. He married another she-wolf. The cold-iron whip came down. Each welt sealed itself shut against the iron-poison's burn, then split open again. Every strike felt like a red-hot brand pressed into my skin and ground in. It would never heal. But every time I came close to dying, it was him who tipped the antidote down my throat himself. His fingers shook. His eyes carried a tenderness he hated himself for. The night he got drunk, he crushed me against his chest. "You think I love you, so you can do this to me. Tell me where Sera is, and I'll let you go." I couldn't say it.The moment I opened my mouth, it would burn to ash. I wouldn't have to keep this secret much longer. An elf away from the forest for one full year is dead. No exceptions. I had two days left.

I accidentally hit my head in the shower. To my surprise, I find that I can hear my aloof housemate's thoughts. "Damn, he's got perky buns." I think of him as a regular housemate, but he wants to sleep with me?

This book is a must-read for teenagers. It brings out the emotional and physical countenances of most teenagers, in verisimilitude. Anderson Simpson and his friend, Harrison Edgeton, are in for an adventure that would blow your mind. They discovered things about themselves that they never knew or understood, when they went back through time, with the help of an old Time Machine of “The Time Gods"

“I’m getting a divorce! I can’t stand you anymore. Besides, Sherry is dead, and the company has been handed over to me; what’s the use of putting up with a worthless marriage?” Those were the words of Caleb Thompson, the man I gave up everything to be with, the man I devoted seven faithful years to, the man I have ever loved. >>>>Rosy Connor The death of their child tore them apart, and the effect of her demise sprang up an unexpected divorce that shattered Rosy. Rosy felt the weight of depression weigh down on her more than ever when the man who should have been a shoulder for comfort became a thorn of a consistent reminder of her irresponsibility. The last straw broke on her when Caleb threw a divorce to her face. The moment Rosy granted him his heart desire brought regret and pain to Caleb. He hated throwing off the woman who rejected several suitors for him. He realized that he had lost the most important things in his life despite having everything any human would dream of having. >>>>Caleb Thompson "Caleb, your ex-wife is back as a billionaire after five years; not only that, she is back with a man she called a 'fiance,' what are you going to do now, man?" At that moment, with regret in my eyes, I swore to make my ex-wife forgive me. >>>>Caleb Thompson How can he get back an Ex-wife who only returned to hurt him emotionally and financially? Can he get her back when she already has someone else? Coupled with the hatred and revenge revolving around them, will it be possible to uncover the mysteries that will either destroy them completely or create a new path?

My husband lies to me about working late on Christmas Day. I know he wants to give me a surprise—I saw a jewelry set worth millions of dollars in his pocket. However, all I receive is the news of him pretending to be Santa Claus as he delivers a gift to his female secretary. She flaunts it on social media. "You're the most precious Christmas gift I've gotten." My husband changes the background photo on his social media to a photo of them together. I smile and like the post. Later, the secretary comes to me and smugly says she's pregnant. Meanwhile, I pull out a diagnosis report verifying that my husband is sterile. "Checkmate!" She visibly panics.

Deck the halls with daddy issues and scream "yes, Santa" until the neighbors complain. She sold herself to save her mother. He bought her to settle a score. Neither expected twelve days of captivity to feel like coming home. Ten years ago, Evangeline Rose fled Willow Creek and the cruel boy who made her life hell. Now she’s back with a new name, a new body, and one desperate choice: enter the town’s secret Christmas auction where wealthy men bid on willing women. When the hammer falls at five hundred thousand dollars, Eva expects a stranger. Instead, she gets Grayson Holt—her former tormentor, now a devastatingly dangerous man in a half-open Santa jacket who just bought twelve uninterrupted nights with the virgin he once swore no one would ever want. She should be terrified. He's the reason she hid in bathroom stalls and cried herself to sleep. But the first time he kisses her, his hands shake. The first time she fights back, he groans her name like a prayer. And somewhere between the firelight and the snow and the silk ribbons around her wrists, they both realize the ugly truth: He didn't buy her to break her. He bought her because he's been broken without her. The boy who spray-painted "fat ugly bitch" on her locker is the same man who falls to his knees in the snow on the last morning and begs her not to leave. The girl who swore she'd never forgive him is the same woman who has to choose: walk away free, or stay with the monster who finally admitted he's been in love with her since the day he made her cry. Eva spent a decade learning to hate Grayson Holt. Turns out she's been loving him the whole damn time.

Ernest West left the courtroom with wings on his feet. Leaving Don James was, in Ernest's opinion, the best thing he had ever done for himself. No more tense silences. No more Don's silent, smothering adoration. Ernest had been released. Three years have passed since then. Now, what once was the best choice has turned into a noose around their necks. There is a sinister provision buried within the small print of the divorce papers that Ernest's attorney overlooked; they are obligated to live together and manage the small beach hotel that they used to own as a couple for an entire year. Thus, Ernest finds himself back amid the groaning wooden boards and salty panes of glass within the walls of where their love once withered away. However, Don is no longer the same weak and longing man that Ernest abandoned. He now stands as an intimidating pillar of cold indifference, forged by the stony resolve and lack of concern. Not even a passing glance comes from Don’s green eyes, which regard Ernest with only polite reserve. A year of closeness. A year of unresolved tension. A year of dealing with each and every lie that Ernest tried to bury beneath "irreconcilable differences." In the beginning, the plan is a silent battle—appointments stuck to the fridge, dinners taken in different corners of the house. Yet, there’s something about closeness that reveals the whole truth. Ernest discovers the picture albums that Don never discarded. He listens to telephone conversations in the dead of night that reveal the loneliness he feels himself. And gradually, painfully, he discovers that the greatest error made wasn’t the separation. It was letting Don leave.

Left at the altar by her fiancé, film industry beauty Christine Ledesma, also known as Cassandra Mendez rebuilt her shattered life. Just when she thought she had finally gotten over him and turned over a whole new leaf, Marty Jacobs the infamous playboy billionaire showed up again to reclaim her. "Mommy, you're back." The little girl sweetly said. Marty came in and walked towards the living room. He put down Christine on the couch. The little girl was delighted to see Christine carried by Marty. The little girl held Marty's hand, looked up to him and spoke, "Mommy, is he my daddy?" The little girl's eyes were twinkling like the stars in the sky. Memories of five years ago came flooding her mind. Christine couldn't utter a word, for she was overwhelmed by the memories of five years ago. The little girl concluded that her mom's silence meant yes, the little girl spoke to Marty "Daddy, did you come back to take us with you?" Baffled, Marty couldn't speak and looked at Christine. Christine had regained her composure and said, "Cassie, sweetie, he is mommy's business partner."

On a research trip gone wrong, Assistant Professor Patrina Warden is tricked and trafficked into dark elf territory. In their realm, humans are seen as exotic beings to be seduced, tamed, and bound. Nyxios, the charismatic and cunning Scion of House Keltos, uses allure and shadow magic to seduce Patrina into becoming his companion. As they play a game of power, humiliation, and submission, Patrina finds herself torn between her growing fascination for Nyxios and her fierce desire for independence. Will Patrina escape the seductive grip of the dark elf, or will she succumb to the intoxicating blend of love and dominance? [This closed-door romance is book one of a stand-alone two book duology. The second book will be called Midnight Crown. +The books may be read in either order].

On my way to a meeting at work, I call my daughter, who is at home. Instead, I hear a voice identical to mine over the phone. She claims that she is me three years in the future. "Dezarae, go home to Liv right now. Your daughter is in danger." I am stunned. I argue in disbelief and question who is behind this prank. When I step on the accelerator, she stops me sternly. "Do not drive ahead any further. There will be a traffic accident at the intersection where Peace Street is." In the next second, at the intersection that is less than 30 feet away from me, two cars collide. Cold sweat starts to trickle down my back when the woman with a voice identical to mine says, "Liv will fall off a building and die in three hours. This is your only chance to save her."