Jackson Noble Fir Christmas Tree Novels & Stories

“Because when we get to the lodge, I plan to take my time with you.” She swallowed hard. “Good.” He inhaled sharply. The car climbed a hill and entered the forest path, snow glowing beneath the headlights. The more they drove, the heavier the air felt. Hot. Charged. Ready. After a few more minutes they reached a wooden lodge tucked between tall pine trees. Christmas lights wrapped around the beams like warm little stars. Smoke curled from the chimney. Freddy parked and turned off the engine. “Nancy.” “Yes.” “You can still say no.”

They needed to remember what it was like to be human. She had agreed, and the preparations had begun. The first task was the tree. There were no Christmas tree farms in the frozen wasteland, no stores selling artificial trees in boxes. But Earl had an idea. He had spent days searching the frozen forest for a suitable tree, his experienced eyes scanning the snow-covered pines for one that was the right size and shape. He had finally found it—a small evergreen, its branches heavy with snow, its needles still green and fragrant.