Summary:
Holiday Surprise #8
Justin's dating life has just gone from bad, to worse.
Justin's never had the best luck meeting alphas, and for more than a year it's been a string of disappointing dates. So when he meets a seemingly nice guy at a charity party for the Valle Granja Art Museum, he thinks his luck has changed. Instead he finds himself trying to ghost a man who refuses to take 'no' for an answer.
Max can't help but protect the omega living in his apartment complex.
Max is newly single, and still rying to find out what signs he missed before his last relationship ended. However all those thoughts come to a screeching halt when he finds his neighbor hiding on his porch. He quickly learns that the omega is scared of another alpha, and decides that he'll do whatever is needed to protect the handsome man.
However, will Justin return Max's feelings as they shift from protection to attraction?
Tinsel Time Treasure is a 35K word , non-shifter, M/M, mpreg, omegaverse romance
Content note: A stalking ex-partner plays a role in this book. Therefore it may not be suitable for readers sensitive to this topic.
I haven't read all the entries in Lacey Daize's Holiday Surprise series but of the one's I've read I can honestly say Tinsel Time Treasure probably has a bit more darker-ish undertones. They aren't "in your face" details but the things Justin finds himself facing are not sweet but they do lead to something, or someone, that has the potential to be brilliant.
Max of course is going through some things that have left his heart hurting too and when these two meet, the chemistry is so much deeper than alpha/omega, protector/protectee, it's a bit all encompassing which isn't exactly where either party is heart-ready but sometimes fate knows best.
A delightfully fun, heartwarming tale with moments of heartache to make this mpreg realistically beautiful, as realistic as mpreg can be anyway, truth is by the end of the book you almost believe it to be real, an wouldn't our world be different if mpreg did in fact exist. Tinsel Time Treasure leaves you smiling and wanting to give both parties huge Mama Bear Hugs to let them know everything is going to be as it's meant to be.
Summary:
Once Upon a Holiday
One Bed, Two Best Friends.
Easton Beckett has always cherished the Christmas season, but this year, his parents are off to help his aunt in Wyoming, leaving him to celebrate alone. But his best friend, Weston Holt—his outgoing and popular opposite—has a surprise: tickets to an all-expense-paid Holiday Cruise he won through a local radio station.
Excitement builds as they leave for a week in the Caribbean, celebrating Christmas at sea and stopping in the Bahamas. Their adventure takes a turn, however, when they discover they’ve been assigned to the honeymoon suite. Easton is about to correct the misunderstanding when Weston convinces him to pretend they’re a couple.
As they navigate their week together, the tension between them grows palpable—each stolen glance and playful touch igniting a longing that neither dares to acknowledge. With only one bed and mounting emotions, both grapple with their feelings. As New Year’s Eve approaches, will they find the courage to admit their true feelings, or will fear keep them apart?
Once Upon A Holiday Vacation is part of a multi-author series, Once Upon A Holiday Story. Each book can be read as a standalone and in any order. What links these books together is The Hook's Book Nook Traveling Library, a library on wheels owned by two old ladies in love.
Summary:
Santa's Naughty Elf Mates
If I don’t find my fated mate by Christmas, I’ll be banned from the North Pole forever.
I’ve messed up bad for the last time.
My life is a series of mistakes. The first happens when I am born and dumped unwanted at the door of Santa Christero, who immediately adopts me.
Being raised by a Santa from the revered consortium of Santas sounds like an omega elf’s dream come true, right? Wrong. While he loves me a lot, my father, Christero, is one of the busiest of all the Santas and spends very little time at home. I revere him, but I rarely see him. Sno, his housekeeper, is the one who raises me. He is wonderful, but old, and my spoiled and lazy behind gets away with a lot of mischief.
When I turn nineteen, my father decides I should work in his toy shop to learn responsibility. I take advantage of the job by not showing up on time and having three-hour lunches.
One day, I fill a thousand fancy stockings with candy and gum only to discover they are the diabetic gift stockings and have to be scrapped. You’d think someone who goes by the name of Sugar could get that right, but not me.
My father is so furious he conjures a spell that turns me into an elf figurine.
My final instructions before being boxed up and mailed to some unknown destination are: Find yourself. Find love. Find your mate. You have until Christmas or you will become an elf figurine forever.
I have only eight weeks and no idea how to make that happen.
MM romance, omegaverse, alpha/omega, holiday romance, rescue, blizzards, cabin in the woods, only one bed, heat, knotting, mpreg, HEA.
Santa’s Naughty Elves brings you a new series of Christmas magic, fated mates, and adorable babies from some of your favorite mpreg authors. Be sure to grab them all and see what knotty fun Santa has brought good alphas and omegas this holiday season.
Summary:
Foggy Basin
Percy- My life has turned upside down since falling in love with my old high school crush, Ben. Now that we're together and living in the same town, we're discovering each other's quirks. Ben is an absolute nutjob over Christmas and the build-up to the holidays. For me and the bakery, this time is a huge money maker for us. How can I keep the bakery afloat and keep Ben happy? The holidays have always been about work for me. Now, I have to try to make Ben's Christmas dreams come true. What do you give someone who already has everything?
Ben- it's my favorite time of year! I love everything about the holidays, and Foggy Basin never disappoints. I wish that Percy and I had more time to spend together, though. With all the planning for the new resort and the city's Christmas festivities, which I am also helping to make a reality in our bid for more tourists, I am slammed. But it's our first Christmas together, and I want to make it the best one he has ever had. I hope that my plans don't scare him away. I want to move fast, and Percy is the opposite of me. But no matter what - this will be the best holiday ever!
Ellwood/Brinnswork
What in the world has my soulmate gotten us into this time?
All I want to do is get ready to have our family over for Winter Solstice, but like all things involving Ailin Ellwood, we get pulled into another wild BCA case. The Brinnswick Central Agency tends to pull us in for the really… let’s say difficult—and weird, let’s not forget weird—magical cases, so I have no doubt this one will be a doozy.
Even knowing that, I never really expected to be attacked by kids’ toys and Christmas decorations. But when my viramore—soulmate—is involved, well, things get all kinds of whacky.
Join Seb and Ailin as they try to figure out who’s behind the murderous mistletoe while they get ready for the Ellwood family holiday celebrations.
*This story takes place in the Ellwood/Brinnswick world. Reading the other books might enhance your reading experience, but it's not necessary to read them first. If you want to, you can find the Brinnswick/Ellwood reading order on the author's website.
Tinsel Time Treasure by Lacey Daize
Chapter 1 - Justin
~October~
Iforced a smile as the alpha across the table droned on about how bad his ex was—which was never a good sign on the first date.
The language was another red flag. He was using whatever terms he could to dehumanize the poor man who’d been with the insufferable bastard, and I could see why the other omega bailed after only a couple months.
“Sluts like him just don’t understand that alphas have needs,” he continued. “I’m never dating a prude like that again.”
Was he a slut or a prude? I wondered to myself. The terms kinda cancel each other out.
“You understand, right?”
“Umm…” I started, scratching my short dark beard.
“Of course you do,” the alpha continued before I could come up with an answer. “You look like a proper omega: one who knows his place in a relationship.”
I replied with a nervous chuckle, then felt a wave of relief as I saw a waitress approaching our table.
“Excuse me,” I said softly. “I’d like to wash my hands before we eat.”
“Um… ok,” he replied, obviously put off by my interrupting his sexist monologue.
“I’ll be right back,” I promised.
He nodded as he picked up his silverware to start eating.
Of course he wouldn’t wait. Why would an alpha ever wait for an omega?
I pretended to hurry, and as soon I was in the relative privacy of the restroom I pulled my phone from my pocket and sent a quick text to my best friend, Kaleb.
Disaster date! Call in five and give me an excuse to leave.
I received a thumbs-up emoji almost immediately. I quickly deleted the messages so that there would be nothing there if my date tried to protest and demand to see my phone. Then I splashed some water over my hands so that they would be cold and slightly moist if he wanted to check that I’d actually washed them.
“Sorry,” I replied as I took my seat again, adjusting my glasses where they’d slid down my nose.
He merely nodded, staring at his phone.
I noticed that half his meal was already gone, and my pile of fries looked suspiciously smaller than it had been when I’d left the table.
“This looks great,” I said as I picked up my burger.
“It’s ok,” he shrugged and scrolled something on his phone. “It’s edible. Next time I’ll introduce you to something better.”
Not gonna be a next time, I thought as I chewed and nodded.
My date continued onto a tirade about how restaurant quality had gone down over the past several years, and somehow he tied his rant to more omegas in the workplace. Something about how with omegas working there were more customers, meaning that cooks had to make food faster, thus resulting in lower quality.
I could have cried with relief when my phone rang.
My date scowled as I pulled it out of my pocket, not recognizing the hypocrisy that he’d just been on his own phone.
“Kay?” I asked, putting on a concerned voice. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
Kaleb snickered. “Putting it on a bit thick, aren’t you?”
“Oh Kay,” I sighed. “I’m so sorry. How old was she?”
“If your date is buying this, he must be all of five.”
“Sounds like she had a good life.”
Kaleb wailed on demand, loud enough that one of my date’s eyebrows rose.
“I’ll be there as soon as possible,” I announced. “You wrap yourself in a blanket and I’ll pick up your favorite ice cream. Is there a date for the funeral yet?”
Another wail from Kaleb.
“I’ll wait with you until your mom calls with more details.”
“Thanks Just,” Kaleb sniffled exaggeratedly. “I’ll see you soon.”
I hung up the call, noting the deep scowl on the alpha’s face. I pulled out my wallet, estimated my half of the meal and threw some cash on the table.
“You’re leaving?” my date asked incredulously.
“Sorry. My best friend just lost his grandmama, and they were super close. He’s devastated.”
“We’re in the middle of a date!”
“And he’s at home, sobbing his eyes out.”
“He can call somebody else.”
“He doesn’t need to, because I’m going.”
I walked away before my date had a chance to respond. I’d figured out almost immediately that he was a pig, but any man who argued with the ‘dead relative’ excuse was automatically upgraded to piece of shit.
Sure, it was a lie, but that was one of those situations where a person should be believed. Though I bet he had more sudden emergencies during dates than not.
I got into my car and placed a to-go order from Cluck Hut—fried chicken for me and a chicken pot pie for Kaleb, then I drove to the nearest grocery store and grabbed a couple pints of Rocky Road.
It was only about twenty minutes after his call that I pulled into the parking lot for his apartment and carried our food to his place.
“Uh-oh,” he said, eyeing the bags.
“Yeah,” I sighed as I carried them in and set them on the table.
“How bad was it?”
I passed over his chicken pot pie, and he shook his head. “Damn.”
“He tried to argue that I shouldn’t leave.”
“The fuck?”
“Yeah.”
Kaleb stood, put the ice cream in the freezer, and returned with plates and silverware.
“So who did I lose this time?” he asked.
“Your grandmama.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “I swear, she has more lives than a cat.”
“How’s she doing?”
He laughed. “Fine, no thanks to you.”
“Say hello for me, and tell her I killed her off again.”
“Can do.”
“So besides arguing with the dead relative escape, what else was wrong about this one?”
“Shall I start with the ex-bashing, or the blatant sexism.”
“Oof. Sorry Justin.”
I shook my head. “What can I say? I’m just doomed to date all the worst alphas.”
“You’ll find a good one eventually.”
I snorted. “Maybe if I switch to female alphas. But…”
He nodded. “Yeah. They’re pretty, but not my thing either.”
I sighed and plowed some chicken into my mouth.
“Well, you’re here,” Kaleb said. “We can spend some more time working on your costume.”
“Works for me.”
My luck with alphas sucked, but at least I had Kaleb.
Once Upon a Holiday Vacation by Annabella Michaels
CHAPTER ONE
EASTON
The keys jangledin my frozen fingers as I unlocked the library door, my breath puffing out in little clouds. I hurried inside, grateful for the rush of warm air that greeted me along with the familiar scent of books and pine.
As I made my way through the stacks, straightening a few volumes here and there, my mind drifted to Weston. I wondered if he was awake yet, probably not given he’d worked a late shift at the fire station the night before. The thought of his bed head and sleepy blue eyes made my heart flutter.
“Get it together, Easton,” I chided myself softly. “He's your best friend, nothing more.”
But oh, how I wished it could be more. I imagined his strong arms around me, those full, kissable lips brushing mine under the mistletoe. The fantasy was so vivid I could almost feel the warmth of his body, smell his woodsy cologne.
With a sigh, I shook my head, dispelling the daydream. “Focus on work,” I muttered, moving to the circulation desk.
I busied myself with shelving returns, trying to lose myself in the familiar routine. But every book about love or friendship made me think of Weston, his laugh, his kindness, the way he always knew how to cheer me up.
I leaned against the shelf, letting my mind wander back to the day we met in kindergarten. It was the first day of school, and I was terrified, clutching my dinosaur lunchbox like a lifeline. That's when I saw him a whirlwind of blond hair and infectious laughter, running around the classroom like he owned the place.
“Hi! I'm Weston!” he'd declared, skidding to a stop in front of me. “Wanna be friends?”
I'd nodded shyly, and just like that, we were inseparable. East and West, as our teacher had jokingly called us when assigning seats. The nickname stuck, and so did our friendship.
As we grew, our differences became more apparent. I was the quiet bookworm, always with my nose in a novel, while he was the life of every party, excelling in sports and making friends effortlessly. But somehow, our bond only grew stronger.
He never let our different interests come between us. He'd drag me to football games, promising to take me to the bookstore afterward. And I'd coax him into movie marathons, bribing him with homemade cookies and the promise of choosing our next outdoor adventure.
The jingle of bells at the library entrance startled me from my brooding. I turned to see Laura bustling in, her cheeks rosy from the cold and her arms laden with a tray of steaming cups.
“Merry almost-Christmas, Easton!” she chirped, setting the tray on the circulation desk. “I come bearing liquid joy.”
I couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. “You're a lifesaver, Laura. Thanks.”
She handed me a mug of cocoa, eyeing the boxes strewn all over the counter and stacked on the floor under the desk. “So, how many new decorations did you end up buying? I swear this place gets more festive every year.”
I felt a blush creeping up my neck. “Just a few,” I mumbled, taking a sip to hide my embarrassment.
Her eyes twinkled with mischief. “Uh-huh. And I bet you were humming carols the whole time, weren't you?”
“I was not,” I protested weakly, knowing full well she was right.
She laughed, nudging my shoulder. “Face it, my friend. You're a Christmas elf trapped in a librarian's body.”
I chuckled. “Guilty as charged, I suppose.”
As we sipped our cocoa, my gaze drifted to the window. Soft, fluffy snowflakes had begun to fall, dancing on the breeze before settling on the ground. The sight filled me with a bittersweet longing.
“It's beautiful, isn't it?” I murmured, more to myself than Laura.
She followed my gaze and nodded. “It really is. Got any big plans for the holidays?”
My heart gave a little flutter at the thought. “Just the usual. Spending time with my parents and Weston.”
“Ah, Weston,” Laura said knowingly. “Your favorite part of the season, I bet.”
I ducked my head, focusing intently on the drink in my hand. “He's my best friend,” I said softly. “Of course I'm looking forward to seeing him.”
As she moved away to start her work, I found myself lost in thought again. The holidays with Weston were always magical—movie marathons, baking disasters, snowball fights. For a few precious days, I could pretend that the warmth in his eyes meant something more.
I sighed, watching the snowflakes swirl. This year would be no different, I told myself firmly. I'd cherish every moment with him, even if it wasn't quite the way I longed for. After all, wasn't that what Christmas was about? Being grateful for what you have?
Still, as I turned back to my work, I couldn't quite silence the tiny voice in my heart whispering, “What if?”
The warm aroma of roasting chicken and herbs filled the kitchen as I diced vegetables, stealing glances at Weston. He was stirring a pot of gravy, his brow furrowed in concentration. The sight made my heart skip a beat.
He looked up and grinned when he caught my stare. “Careful not to chop your finger along with those carrots,” he teased.
I felt a blush creep up my neck. “Just making sure you don't burn the gravy,” I quipped back, earning a playful eye roll.
Mom bustled in, patting both our shoulders. “What would I do without my two sous chefs?” she said fondly.
I watched as she fussed over Weston, showing him how to whisk the gravy just right and a familiar warmth spread through my chest. It wasn't just because of my feelings for my friend, but because of the beautiful bond my family had forged with him over the years.
I remembered the first time he had come over for dinner, back when we were in second grade. He'd been so quiet, his eyes wide as he took in our cozy kitchen, the laughter, the casual affection. It was such a stark contrast to his own home, where raised voices and the clinking of bottles were more common than family meals.
Weston’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “Remember when we tried to make dinner that one Christmas?”
I groaned dramatically. “How could I forget? We nearly burned down the kitchen.”
“Hey, that was mostly your fault, bookworm.” He laughed. “You got distracted reading the cookbook.”
Our banter continued as we finished preparing the meal. It felt like home in a way that had nothing to do with the fact that I’d grown up there and everything to do with the people in it.
As we sat down to dinner, the familiar rhythm of conversation and laughter filled the air. Dad regaled us with tales from his latest project, while Mom shared gossip from her book club. Weston chimed in with stories from the firehouse, his eyes sparkling as he described a daring rescue.
I found myself watching him more than listening, mesmerized by the way his hands moved as he talked, the curve of his smile. When he caught my eye, I quickly looked away, focusing intently on my plate.
Mom cleared her throat. “Your father and I have some news,” she began, glancing at Dad.
I felt a flutter of nerves. “What kind of news?”
“Well,” Dad said, setting down his fork, “your Aunt Lily took a fall last week. She's broken her hip.” His brow furrowed with concern as he finished.
My heart sank. “Oh no, is she okay?”
Mom nodded. “She's out of the hospital now, but she needs some help while she recovers. So...” She paused, looking between Weston and me. “Your father and I have decided to spend Christmas in Wisconsin with her this year.”
“Oh,” I said, trying to hide my disappointment. Christmas had always been our special family time. The thought of spending it without them felt wrong somehow.
I caught my best friend’s stare across the table, seeing my own mix of emotions reflected there. Despite the pang in my chest, his presence was comforting. At least I'd still have him, I thought. Maybe this Christmas wouldn't be a total loss after all.
Weston's sea-blue eyes flickered with disappointment as they met mine, but in an instant, his expression shifted. A determined grin spread across his face, his silver lip piercing catching the light.
“Well, that's a bummer,” he said, his tone light despite the undercurrent of disappointment. “But hey, East, looks like we'll have to step up our game this year, huh? Maybe I can finally convince you to try that cliff diving Santa thing I've been talking about.”
I couldn't help but chuckle, grateful for his attempt to lighten the mood. “Nice try, West. My feet are staying firmly on the ground, thank you very much.”
Mom reached across the table, patting my hand. “We're so sorry, boys. We know how much you both look forward to our Christmas traditions.”
“It's not your fault, Mom,” I assured her, though my heart still felt heavy.
Dad nodded; his eyes warm. “We'll make it up to you when we get back. How about a big New Year's bash instead? We can invite the whole town if you want.”
Weston's eyes lit up at that. “Now you're talking! We could have a bonfire, maybe set up some of those extreme winter games I've been reading about...”
As he launched into an enthusiastic description of his plans, I found myself smiling despite my disappointment. Trust West to find the silver lining in any situation. Maybe this Christmas wouldn't be what we'd planned, but with him by my side, I had a feeling it might turn out to be memorable in its own way.
As we cleared the table after dinner, Weston bumped his shoulder against mine. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice low enough that only I could hear. “We're gonna make this the best Christmas ever, just you and me. I promise.”
My heart skipped a beat at his words. “Yeah?” I asked, hating how hopeful I sounded.
“Absolutely.” He grinned, flicking some soap suds at me. “We'll start new traditions. Maybe I'll even let you read me one of those boring classics you love so much.”
I gasped in mock offense, splashing him back. “Boring? I'll have you know that A Christmas Carol is a timeless masterpiece!”
Weston laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that always made my stomach flip. “Alright, alright. I'll give it a chance. But only if you promise to go sledding with me.”
I hesitated, thinking of the last time he'd convinced me to go sledding. We'd ended up in a snowbank, tangled together, his face inches from mine. The memory still made my cheeks flush.
“Deal,” I said finally, trying to ignore the way my heart raced at the thought.
As we finished the dishes, a comfortable silence fell between us. I couldn't help but steal glances at him, admiring the way the soft kitchen light played across his features.
He was strong and lean, his muscles rippling beneath his fitted Henley as he dried the last of the dishes. The fabric clung to his broad shoulders and tapered waist, hinting at the toned body I knew lay underneath. His blond hair was tousled, as always, falling across his forehead in a way that made my fingers itch to brush it back.
The light caught on his lip ring, drawing my attention to his full, perfectly shaped lips. I quickly averted my gaze, only to find myself captivated by his sea-blue eyes. They were like the ocean after a storm—deep, intense, and ever-changing. Long lashes framed those mesmerizing eyes, casting shadows on his high cheekbones.
As he reached up to put away a glass, the neck of his shirt shifted slightly, revealing a sliver of tanned skin and the edge of the tattoo I knew was inked over his heart. I knew every detail of that tattoo, a black compass with the E and W in red ink. He'd gotten it on his eighteenth birthday, dragging me along to the tattoo parlor. “East and West,” he'd said with a grin. “So I'll always find my way back to you.”
The memory made my chest ache with longing. If only he knew how much those words meant to me, how often I'd replayed them in my mind.
“Hey!” His voice broke through my reverie. “Where'd you go just now?”
I blinked, realizing I'd been staring. “Oh, um, nowhere,” I stammered, feeling heat creep up my neck. “Just thinking about Christmas, I guess.”
His expression softened, a warm smile tugging at his lips. “It's gonna be great, East. I promise,” he said, his voice low and sincere. He stepped closer, resting a hand on my shoulder. The warmth of his touch seeped through my sweater, making my skin tingle. “I know it's not what we planned,” he continued, “but maybe this is our chance to make some new memories. Just us.”
My heart raced at his words. “Just us.” The possibilities swirled in my mind, equal parts thrilling and terrifying.
“Yeah,” I managed, my voice barely above a whisper. “That sounds... nice.”
He tilted his head, a devilish smirk lifting the corners of his mouth. “Nice? Come on, East. Do you trust me?”
I didn’t even have to think about my response. “Of course I do.”
“Good! Then leave all the planning to me. I promise this is going to be the best Christmas you’ve ever had.”
Naughty Elf: Sugar by Wendy Rathbone
PROLOGUE
Sugar
Colorful lights glittered up and down the empty street. The first major storm of fall had hit Santa’s Village and here I stood on the school walkway looking ridiculous in my red velvet pants and blazer, no winter coat, and lightweight black boots.
I heard him before I saw him. The tapping of his cane. The heaviness of his boots.
Sno’s hunched figure turned the corner, the gray silhouette of my 90-year-old elf nanny appearing through the thickly falling snow. His red and white striped cane tapped the concrete as he limped toward me.
Even though magic spells protected the village from the worst of the north winds, snow still got through. No one else was out in this weather. They were all in school or doing their jobs. No one but me and Sno, and I felt terrible.
I ran toward him, slipping and sliding as I went. Even though I was only in second grade, I knew better than to run. My shoes weren’t made for the ice. But I didn’t care. I was mad and sad and very very bad.
I nearly slid into Sno, who caught me easily with his free arm, holding me close as he spoke.
“I hear you’re banned from the Christmas party this year. And suspended for the next two days.”
I stomped my foot and tightened my shoulders. “I don’t care. I don’t like the other elves and shifters. I called them bad words.”
“Your teacher called and told me what happened. You ran out of class and into the storm.”
I kicked at a tiny drift of ice. “My teacher doesn’t know anything.”
He sighed, the snow making the sound seem loud against the silent, empty town. “Thank you for waiting at the gate for me to come and get you.”
That was my father’s rule. He didn’t want me walking alone even though his huge house was so close to my school.
Snow held out a bundle of wool. “You forgot your coat this morning. I brought it.”
Even with the cane, he was quite adept at getting me into it, fastening the buttons and bringing the hood over my head. Then he put his hand on my shoulder and escorted me home.
Within five minutes, we were both inside the warmth of the mansion, shaking off the snowflakes and hanging up our damp coats.
Sno led me into the kitchen where the air was warmer and wonderful things were bubbling in big pots on the big shiny stove. “Sit,” he said.
I took my usual chair, put my elbows on the table and, with my chin in my palms, sulked.
Everything smelled so good. It was safe here. Comforting. But I was still mad.
Sno kept his back to me while he took things from the fridge, puttered a bit, and then brought out fresh cookies from the oven. He set the tray on the table on two soft pads in front of me, then placed a glass of milk by my right hand.
Slowly, because of his aching bones, he sat to face me. “Now,” he said, voice soft and gentle. “Can you tell me why you ran away?”
“I already told you.” I reached for a hot cookie.
His hand came over mine so fast I barely saw it. He gently pushed it away from the cookie tray. “These need to cool a bit.”
I pouted.
“Why did you say bad words to the others?” Sno’s voice was calm. He never raised it, not even whenever I got loud, screaming, shouting in anger and hurt. He only spoke lower and lower until it was a whisper and I had to stop myself to hear what he was saying.
“Because they called me names first,” I replied. Like spoiled and brat and son of a Santa. The other kids teased me about my father who was one of the Santas who delivered gifts to kids on Christmas Eve. Without even trying to get to know me, they decided I must be conceited living in a mansion in Santa’s Village while they all lived in small townships on the outskirts.
“Oh, I see,” Sno said, nodding. “So, you thought it was okay to do to them what they did to you.”
I nodded, biting my lips. “I said they were monkey poop milk chunks. Only I didn’t say poop. And I said they were penis breaths, too. Our teacher heard.”
Sno’s mouth twitched. His blue eyes grew large as he rapidly blinked several times.
I continued. “Then my teacher said I had gone through all my warnings and now I couldn’t go to the Christmas party.”
“And you ran out of class?”
I bit harder on my lip, a strange sound escaping through my nose as I nodded.
“Come here,” Sno said, gesturing for me to get up.
It was like a lot of air was filling me up fast, yet I couldn’t breathe. Numbly, I got up and went to him. When I was standing in front of him, I said, nearly yelling, “I don’t want to go back!”
Sno just looked at me. That was all it took, and I burst apart, sobbing like a baby. I’d disappointed my teacher, the other kids and now Sno who’d had to come out in the cold to get me. And then there was my father. Santa Christero. He’d be so mad when he got home.
Sno held out his arms and I immediately fell into them, crying against his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” I babbled. “I’m sorry I messed everything up for Christmas.”
“Baby, you said a few bad words. We’ll work on that later, but right now you need to know as the son of a revered and highly respected Santa, life won’t be fair. More will be expected of you. You’re just a little one now, baby, but you’ll understand better as you get older. I promise.”
Sno rubbed my back and kissed the top of my head. I wiped my face on his collar, but he didn’t seem to mind.
When I sat back, the tears finally slowing, he had a holly embroidered hanky in his hand and gently stroked my cheeks and eyes.
“You can be a big boy and help me around the house for the next two days, right?”
Begrudgingly, I nodded. I hated chores but I loved Sno. I’d do what he said.
“And then when you go back to school—”
“But I don’t want to go back!” My eyes welled up again.
Sno cupped my chin. “Baby, your teacher and I talked. The other boys are being warned not to name-call again.”
I crossed my arms. “But they still get to go to the party.”
“We’ll have a party here. Make a cake. Plus, you’ll have a real Santa at your party,” he offered.
I shook my head. “It won’t matter. They’ll keep teasing me next year and the year after that.”
Sno turned me to face the table. “There, there,” he said, picking up one of the tree-shaped cookies. “It’s cooler now but still warm.” He handed it to me, then dragged my glass of milk closer.
Later, when my father got home, I heard Sno telling him, “It can’t be helped that you are his father. You rescued him as an orphaned baby and adopted him. The other kids are jealous.”
When Father tucked me into bed that night, I prepared myself for a lecture on using bad words. Instead, he said, “Don’t worry, Sugar, everything will work out. I’ll make sure.”
By third grade, when things had most definitely not worked out, Father took me from the school permanently and hired a tutor.
By then it was too late. I’d already formed a firm belief system inside my mind that I was a bad boy. The tutor felt like further punishment because I couldn’t do anything right.
I was a fuck up and that was that. What was the point of paying attention to lessons, or doing my homework? Besides, my father was, in essence, royalty. I was merely an elf with no magic, and I wouldn’t ever become a Santa like him. Plus, he was super rich. Which meant I was rich, too. Which meant I’d never need to work anyway.
When I became a teenager, sneaking away at night to hang out with other errant and wild elf kids, I knew Sno and Father had all sorts of words between each other about me. About how to better handle me.
Sno, ever patient and loving, still called me baby. I felt most guilty about being a disappointment to him. He had given me all his love and caring, and this was how I repaid him. But that didn’t change how much I didn’t fit in here in Santa’s Village, and how angry that made me.
Father liked to say to me, “You just need to grow up and be more mature.”
I hated that word. Mature. What in all the elven hells did it even mean to me in an environment where so many of my fellow elves were jealous while at the same time looking down on me.
I secretly continued to run the streets at night. I had my first sexual experience as an omega during a snowstorm, the alpha elf topping me underneath the green and pink-lit Christmas pavilion stage in Candy Cane Park.
I could’ve frozen my ass off. I could’ve gotten pregnant if I’d been in my first teen heat and didn’t realize it. Also, it was a terrible first time and hurt badly. Who knew sex totally sucked?
One more thing I couldn’t do right.
One more thing to reinforce what a bad, naughty elf I was.
Don't Go Bakin' My Heart Holiday by Shane K Morton
Percy
“Tammy Sue?” I yelled over the pop music she was blasting in the kitchen. Miss Grande was in her feelings, and so was Tammy Sue. “Can you come and grab these profiteroles? I’m too busy making curd and don’t want to overwhip it.”
“I got you!” she sang loudly to the music.
“Can you also turn that down just a squeeze?”
“You are destroying my vibe, babe.” Her laugh made me feel all warm inside. “Besides, you’ve been in a tasty mood for the last few months. Where is the himbo? Is there trouble in paradise where you don’t feel like swaying to the rhythm?”
“Ben’s over at a planning committee meeting for the resort and then headed to something about the festival. He talked me into setting up a table, but I’d still prefer to just keep the store open so we can take any large orders that people might want to place. This is our busy time, you know?”
“There’s just the two of us, hon. But not having a table at the festival would be a bad idea. We have to.”
“I know, but I think we might need some help. I need to find someone to either help you at the table or watch the store. I think the table would be easier.”
“Everyone will be at the festival. You have to be at the table, bitch. You’re the face of this place.”
“Why do you hate me?”
“I have a thing against tight abs and people in love with a man with tight abs. The holidays make me itchy.” She was snarky today.
“Bitchy, you mean.” This curd looks delicious. I turned it off and took a small taste.
“That too. How about that girl, Amber, who’s always popping in to talk about baking? She’s cute and seems to really love this place.”
“You think I should hire a high school student to run the store in my absence and train her in the next two weeks? You’re insane,” I scoffed. That was a horrible idea.
“She’s not baking. She’s writing down orders. Seriously, a monkey could do that job. What are you so afraid of? I’ll train her if she wants to help out. All you have to do is agree.” She took off her apron and went to wash her hands.
“Fine. It’s not like I have much of a choice, I guess. I have enough on my plate. Why do the holidays feel more stressful this year?”
“You have a boyfriend. What are you getting tall, dark, and sexy?”
“I have no idea. Did you know he’s a giant Hallmark Christmas movie fan? He also started listening to holiday music right after Thanksgiving dinner. It’s a little frightening. This time of year means money and extra hours for me. But it’s important to him, so…”
Seb & Ailin: Case of the Murderous Mistletoe by Michele Notaro
Seb
“How many kids are left on our list?” Ailin asked me as we walked out of a shoe store—one of our kids, Clover, had been talking about these specific boots she wanted for weeks. We figured that’d been a hint and added it to our Winter Solstice gift list.
I counted the names that weren’t crossed off yet and sighed. “Ten.”
Ailin, my partner and viramore—soulmate—groaned. “That many? Really? We’ve been here for hours already.”
I shook my head. “We’ve been here for exactly seventy-three minutes, Mr. Dramatic.”
“Yeah, but this is the fifth time we’ve been shopping for gifts.”
“That’s what happens when you have a billion kids, and those kids have kids.”
He huffed. “A billion is pushing it, just a bit.”
“Not by much.”
He snorted and elbowed me.
Ailin didn’t look a day older than his twenty-six years when we’d first met, thanks to those witch genes. And I didn’t look a day older than my thirty-five—thank god. I had my enchanter genes to thank for that.
We might’ve looked fairly young, but the truth was that we had eighteen kids. When Ailin was sixteen, there’d been a horrible attack on his coven and all the adults were killed, leaving Ailin and fifteen younger kids the only ones alive.
Ailin had protected them from the enemy, and instead of sending his younger siblings and cousins into foster care, he’d stepped up as the head of the coven and taken care of them all. Aspen, Ailin’s sister, was only a year younger than him, so she’d helped for a few years, but she’d already moved out of the house by the time I’d come into the picture. Ailin was the one who’d stuck around and raised them all as if they were his own children.
Because of that, we didn’t count Aspen as one of our kids—but we did count Ailin’s two younger siblings because they absolutely were our kids in every way that mattered.
When I’d come along and somehow slotted into place beside Ailin, the kids had accepted me as not only Ailin’s partner but their other father as well. Ailin and I had eventually adopted three more kids because, apparently, fourteen hadn’t been enough for our crazy family.
And then we brought our youngest son’s best friend, Tan, into the mix. We never officially adopted him—not for a lack of trying—but he was still ours.
And now here we were with eighteen adult children who almost all had their own families, which meant we had grandchildren of all ages running around.
Being a witch had some amazing benefits, and not aging—or aging so slowly we’d hardly notice it for centuries—was definitely one of them.
Thank god being an enchanter came with the same ones, or I would’ve been a severely wrinkly old man standing beside my Ailin. And I had no doubt I would be beside him no matter what either of us looked like. We were soulmates, and even after decades together, I loved him more and more each day.
“Who’s next on our list?” Ailin asked me.
I checked it. “Niya.”
He groaned. “What crazy thing does she want this year?”
“She hasn’t told us what she wants for years, A.” I rolled my eyes. Most of our kids told us we didn’t need to buy them anything, but we enjoyed giving them gifts, so we ignored them and did it anyway. “But I have rock climbing gear written down.”
He rubbed his forehead and grunted. “That’s right. I forgot that’s what we’d settled on.” We almost always got her some kind of gear for some adventure or another. Out of all of our kids, Niya was the most energetic and always needed to be doing something outlandish. “That girl is going to be the death of me one of these days.”
“Same. But I think the sporting goods store is at the end of the mall, that way.” I pointed to the right.
“Lead the way, baby.”
We walked in that direction, side by side, both of us weighed down with several bags already. I heard a lot of commotion coming from the lower level of the mall, so I headed to the rail that overlooked it, just to take a peek. It didn’t sound like anything was wrong, but if there was about to be some kind of supernatural attack, I wanted to be prepared.
A sigh of relief left me in a rush when my eyes landed on a big red chair with a man in a red suit sitting on top of it and a giant decorated Christmas tree behind it.
“What’s going on down there?” Ailin asked me as he took a look as well.
I glanced around at the rest of the scene, taking in the hundreds of people—most of them were kids—and all the gifts sitting in a giant pile near Santa Claus. The kids were waiting in line for a chance to sit on Santa’s lap and receive a gift while the parents took pictures and made their way over to the tables set up on the side.
The tables had a ton of Christmas decorations on them, and it looked like the parents were shopping for things. On the other side of the Christmas tree, there was a huge red carpet where kids were sitting and opening their gifts from Santa.
“This must be the mall’s annual Christmas Gift Party Event. It’s for low-income families. Not sure how they handle all that, but I do know that every family that shows up gets one gift per kid from Santa, a chance to shop at the decoration tables—but things are free or something; I think they get tickets—and they’re allowed to take pictures with Santa. I didn’t realize it was this weekend, but I guess that makes sense since Christmas is less than two weeks away.”
Ailin eyed me. “How do you know about this?”
I sent him a grin. “People were talking about it the last time we stopped by Eastbrook.” Eastbrook Youth Academy was the orphanage we adopted our three youngest children from. It also happened to be where I grew up, though it was about a million times better and a much happier place now, thank god.
“Huh.” Ailin stared at the people below for a long moment before facing me. “That’s a really nice program.”
I sent him a soft smile. “Agreed.” I leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Come on. We need to keep going or we’ll never get done, and I don’t want to have to spend another day shopping. We have way too many presents to wrap.” We seriously needed all the time in the world to prepare for Winter Solstice, and we only had one week left to do it.
My phone rang right before we headed into the sporting goods store, so I grabbed it out of my pocket and smiled when I saw Tan’s name on the screen. To Ailin, I said, “It’s Tan.” Then I answered with a, “Hey, bud.”
“Hey, Seb,” he said, and I could tell he was smiling. For once, someone wasn’t calling us because something was wrong. I should mark the date on the calendar.
“How are you?”
Tan was our son, Remi’s, best friend and didn’t grow up in the best home, so he’d spent most of his teenage years in ours. Ailin and I had wanted to adopt him—not that he knew that—but his parents wouldn’t agree to it, so we’d done everything we could to keep him at our house as much as possible. And when he grew up, we made sure to include him in everything we did as a family to ensure he knew he was one of our kiddos and very much a part of the Ellwood family.
“I forgot to write down the time for Winter Solstice, and I tried scrolling through the group chat to find it, but it’s impossible. There’s like five million messages since you sent the info out.”
I snorted. Wasn’t that the truth. The kids loved to text in the group chat, that was for sure. “We’ll be there all day, obviously, so you’re welcome anytime. But I think most people are coming between ten and eleven so we can do brunch.” I followed Ailin into the store.
“Okay, got it. Thank you. I asked Remi, and he was no help whatsoever.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.”
He chuckled, then paused for a beat. “I’m… looking forward to having Garrick and Oakley come with me this year. I’ve never brought anyone before.”
My chest warmed. Tan had recently found his viramore, a dragon shifter named Garrick, who was at least fifteen hundred years old. And with Garrick came his twenty-something kid, Oakley.
It was unfortunate that Garrick lived on the other side of the world in Gauhala, but we were lucky that we had magical means of travel, so it wasn’t difficult to get there. Ailin and I didn’t know the dragon well yet, but he made Tan happy, so we were both happy.
If he ever did anything to hurt our kid, well, he would pay immensely for it.
“It’ll be great. He came to a movie night last month, and it went well,” I said as I continued to follow after A.
“True. But this feels different… I guess because it’s a holiday.”
I could understand that. “It means they’re both a real part of the family.”
He seemed to think about that for a few seconds. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. We’ve made our own little family here, but including them with my family feels… important.”
“It is. And you know we love having them.”
“I know.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I just wanted to say hi and ask about the time. Oakley’s apparently dragging me to the store with them, so I should probably get myself ready.”
“Okay, bud. We’ll see you next weekend, but don’t hesitate to call if you want.”
He let out a small laugh. “I won’t. Thanks, Seb. Talk soon.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too.”
We hung up, and I looked at Ailin, saying, “He’s fine. Just checking in and asking about next weekend.”
Ailin nodded. “I figured. You didn’t feel upset, so I wasn’t worried.” Being viramores meant we were connected through our hearts, souls, magic, and minds. We could feel each other’s emotions and even speak telepathically—sometimes that even happened accidentally.
I shot him a grin and gave him a shoulder-bump.
He waved at the display. “I have no fucking clue which one to get.”
I stared at the gear with a frown. “Me either. Let’s ask someone.”
My viramore groaned but didn’t hesitate to follow me through the store.
Lacey DaizeLacey lives in New Mexico with her four critters. She’s a Jill-of-all-trades by day, but loves writing in her spare time. She dabbles in a variety of pairings, but jumped feet-first into the deep end of omegaverse the first time she read it. She loves the play on social expectations and the different ways to express romance.
I am married to my high school sweetheart who let’s face it, is a saint for putting up with me all of these years. Together we have been blessed with two amazing children and one unbelievably cute German Shepherd. I am an obsessive reader who is a complete sucker for a good love story, but loves to feel a broad range of emotions throughout a book. I think real life is hard enough so my books offer twists and turns, but always with a happy ending.
Hi, I'm Wendy and I'm a voracious reader as well as an author.
Currently, I write all male/male romances and am lately focused on omegaverse. For many years mm has been my first love.
The stories of my characters rattle around in my brain until I have to write them down or lose sleep!
All my books are available in Kindle Unlimited. Happy reading!
Shane Morton has performed in all 48 continental United States as well as Canada, Mexico and Germany. He lives in California with his husband and their sweet pup. Shane's series include Point Pleasant Holiday Series, Drag Queen Detective Cozy Mysteries, and The Bluegrass Boys. He has written quite a few standalones and even ventured into the world of YA. He likes writing stories of the LGBT experience.
When not writing, he can be found in a dark dive bar performing cabaret or at a film festival.
Michele is married to an awesome guy that puts up with her and all the burnt dinners she makes—hey, sometimes characters are a bit distracting, and who doesn’t plot when they’re supposed to be cooking? They live together in Baltimore, Maryland with two little monsters, a three-legged fiend, and a little old man (aka their two sons, their cat, and their senior dog). She hopes to rescue another cat soon, and if her hubby wouldn’t kill her, she’d get more than one… and maybe a few more dogs as well.
She loves creating worlds filled with lots of love, chosen family, and of course, magic, but she also likes making the characters fight for that happy ending. She hopes to one day write all the stories in her head—even if there are too many to count!
Lacey Daize
Annabella Michaels
Sean Azinsalt/Shane K Morton
Once Upon a Holiday Vacation by Annabella Michaels
Naughty Elf: Sugar by Wendy Rathbone
Don't Go Bakin' My Heart Holiday by Shane K Morton
Seb & Ailin: Case of the Murderous Mistletoe by Michele Notaro
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