Mount Crumpit Grinch Novels & Stories

Thank you all for reading my book. This is my second book on good novel and I hope you all enjoy it. 'Quagmire' is a romance novel which possesses a lot of twists, turns, complications but still enough romance to keep it interesting and thrilling. The book is an entire work of fiction and is not intended to make mockery or downgrade any kind of individual.

Dory screamed, the stretch burning sweet, his girth filling her pussy to the brink. "So tight... fuck, Dory, your cunt's gripping me like a vice," Jingle grunted, hips snapping, balls slapping her clit. Santa watched, stroking his own monster, thicker than Jingle's, uncut and heavy, pre-cum beading at the tip. He stepped to her front, feeding her his cock, the salty taste exploding on her tongue as she sucked greedily, hollowing her cheeks.

~Author’s POV~ "This track is called the Serpent's Back. It's a narrow road that goes up a mountain. There's no fence. Just a big drop off the side. People have crashed here. One guy died last year," Simon said, his eyes shining with amusement. Harriet listened, but she didn't look scared. She was looking at her car, a simple silver Mazda. She touched it. It looked old, but she could tell it had been taken care of. The tires were good. The engine sounded smooth and strong.

I would never show my face in front of them again for the rest of my life. I followed Martha out of the low, mud-brick house. The blinding sunlight filled me with joy. Elaine was standing beside her car. Her brows knitted together when her gaze locked onto my tattered clothes. "What's with the getup? Are you trying to remind me of how miserable your life has been?" Initially, she had felt a twinge of guilt about leaving me stranded in these mountains. Owen, however, had already warned her that I might deliberately play the victim to gain her sympathy.

I took the laptop up to my room and closed the door behind me. I accessed my email and opened the John Gold file again. He was five foot ten inches, with light brown hair. He was short for a man and his personality showed his affliction. He had short man syndrome. He wasn’t in terrible shape but he could be in better shape. He was filthy rich, exclamation on the filthy part and the surprising factor, I was friends with his son, Robert Gold.

Grunt was overwhelmed with joy as he scrambled to bow deeply. There was unspeakable glee in his heart. That Complete Takeover spell was handy, to the point where even the great Archfiend Antigonus could not tell the difference. "Oh, that reminds me!" A thought seemed to come to Archfiend Antigonus. He turned to look at Grunt and asked, "What else did you see on Mount Snowood aside from the battle that happened between you and Grunt? Why has there been a change in the skies?" "Honorable Archfiend."

Grim muttered with purplish gue dripping out of his mouth. I shuffled backwards with the ice scrapping on my hands and wetting my clothes but it didn’t matter to me, he was going to hurt me- my eyes narrowed and i stopped. I pushed up to my feet and stared at the monster in front of me. I clenched my fists together and stared at Grim, his grin had reduced and replaced with a snarl.

Rumble! The ancient dragonbone staff being piledriven into the mountain was the last straw; all of Nether Mountain began to crumble by piecemeal bits. But that did not stop the gargantuan hand. It continued hammering at the dragonbone staff until two meters of its tip was visible, the rest of it inside the mountain itself. "Assembly of Immortals, you bunch of trash!" Chu Xun bellowed. The gargantuan hand was really trying to kill him!

I could have sworn I hadn't so much as heard a single cricket song in the time I had been wading through the trees. I shook my head after peering curiously into the shifting shadows in the grooves of the bent trees, unable to puzzle out what I was looking at. “Well, If it isn’t Zavier Cross, Alpha King of the chipmunks,” The throaty baritone of the man’s drawl came behind me so that I jerked to a stop, the hairs on the back of my neck rising as I turned slowly and snapped my gaze up to the large, minotaur-like man that had been sitting, half-hidden in the leafy umbrella of the trees.

The creature's body was slime-like, yet it seemed to have short limbs and a small mouth that produces a harsh hissing sound when it opens. "Don't call them junk," the elderly professor replied. Struggling to stand up from sitting on his chair, he gently placed the book he's reading on his desk, which was also filled with empty laboratory flasks, notebooks and pens. There was a stain of spilled ink covering the upper corner of his disorganized table. His hair and beard are almost white, with visible streaks of gray, and along with his crumpled and stained lab coat, they all seemed to have been unattended for a long while now.