Christmas Congratulations

By Cat Summerfield

This Christmas Eve is going to be Mrs. Claus's favourite day of the year. Her husband is off delivering presents all night long, leaving her alone in the workshop with the elves. The incredibly sexy elves. There are only five of them, and they make the presents all by themselves. After all their hard work, they should be congratulated – and rewarded. Mrs. Claus knows exactly how to reward them: take them into her bed, all at once, and let them have their way with her.

PLEASE NOTE: this novelette (10000+ words) that this book has several explicit scenes and is not suitable for readers who are under 18.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cat Summerfield
• Release date: Dec 17, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311968647

Cat Summerfield

Cat Summerfield has been writing for years but this is her first venture into publishing. She's been reading even longer than she's been writing, and has far too many books on her shelves(if there is such a thing) and even more on her Kindle app. The only thing better than a day spent reading is a day spent writing, especially if cake is also involved.She lives in the UK, where it rains a lot, and longs for sunny days and mountains.

Book preview

CHRISTMAS CONGRATULATIONS

CAT SUMMERFIELD

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 2014 Cat Summerfield

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author.

CHAPTER ONE

Being Mrs. Claus isn't always easy.

To say that my husband – Nick, better known as Santa – is a workaholic is putting it mildly. I mean, deadlines stress everyone out, but when that deadline is making sure that every child in the world has their presents on Christmas Day? Can you imagine what would happen if Nick missed that deadline?

He works hard, especially in the months leading up to Christmas. October through December are a whirlwind of designing and making toys - and a time of constant cookie production for me. They help Nick think. Chocolate chip cookies, gingerbread, pfeffernuesse - baked treats are a speciality of mine. In fact, my cookies are what first made him notice me, all those years ago.

Because Nick does eat those cookies you put out for him, you know? And if you happen to walk in to the kitchen, wearing nothing but lacy lingerie just as he's tucking into the goodies you've put out for him, well.

You might see that dear old St. Nick has terrible PR, and is neither fat nor old - he's not particularly jolly either. He's got a pretty dry sense of humour, actually. You'll see that Nick is six foot six, with muscles to die for - that sack of toys is pretty darned heavy and makes for a good workout.

That was fifty years ago now, but the memory is still fresh. It always comes back to me at this time of year – it's our anniversary, after all.

I go out into the workshop to help make sure that everything is in order. Nick and the elves are down checking all the presents are wrapped, so everything here is pretty quiet. There are some wood shavings on the floor so I grab a brush to sweep them up, and as I do I think back on the night I met Nick.

I'd been awake, suffering from a bout of insomnia. Deciding that lying in bed wasn't doing anything to help me sleep, I went into the kitchen, planning on getting one of those cookies for myself. And what do I find there but this gorgeous guy, standing there and munching on them himself.

Obviously my first thought was of an intruder and I froze. Before I could get my brain into gear and scream, or run, or something, I realised a few other things. First, this maniac is wearing a Santa suit – part of one, anyway. Red velvet trousers, thick belt, tight white t-shirt that clings to every muscle- Following on from that came point two: the guy was a hottie. A serious hottie.

Yes, I was – and am – that shallow. I had a probable burglar, possibly worse,