The Night of the Christmas Letter Getters

By Eldritch Black

The Night of the Christmas Letter Getters is here…

It's the most magical time of the year again. The snow is falling, the evenings are drawing in,  the secret Post Office is open for business and the Christmas Letter Getters are out in force. Among them is Finley Stark, a small elf with big problems. He doesn't know it yet, but there's sinister forces at play.

Soon Finley finds himself being chased through the snowy Yuletide streets of a strange old city, pursued by trolls with dark, fiendish plans. 
And candy in the oddest flavors…

The Night of the Christmas Letter Getters by Eldritch Black is a darkly whimsical tale of Elves, Trolls and festive frights.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Eldritch Black
• Release date: Nov 12, 2016
• ISBN: 9781540165619

Book preview

THE NIGHT OF THE CHRISTMAS LETTER GETTERS

The trolls had been sleeping under the bridge for three days, but to Hefflebletch it felt like weeks. She shuddered as the wind hurtled down the walkway and howled and shrieked like a furious banshee.

She gazed out over the river, her weathered face almost pastel blue, the tip of her parsnip-like nose scarlet, her hard black eyes tearing from the cold. Now the river's freezing over, she muttered. Everything will be frozen soon.

Tiny curls of snow fell from the sky. It was exactly the same wintry weather they'd lived with in the Dark Lands. This surprised Hefflebletch; she'd expected this world to be different. But it's just as cold and chilly white.

Footsteps crunched along the path then Ingledurm appeared, his dark bushy beard bursting from his long navy-blue duffle coat. He thrust a grimy hand out and caught a snowflake and crushed it. Gotcha! he sneered as he gritted his small sharp pointed teeth.

Well done, Hefflebletch droned, her words heavy and low.

You need to cheer up, dear wife. Be happy. Christm... He paused and coughed. Christma… He screwed up his hard flint-like eyes and coughed once more. Christmas is almost here.

And why are you so happy about such a terrible thing? We hate Christmas. Even more than we hate the wretched little brats who love it.

Because, Ingledurm raised a stumpy finger, "this Christmas is going to be a good one. No, this one's going to be the best. The best there ever was!"

We left Krampus's lands for this? Hefflebletch said. You told me we'd be rich. You said this was the land of plenty, but here we are living under a bridge. She flicked the icicle forming on the end of her nose and gazed up at the blackening sky. This place is even worse than our old cabin. Which was the very worst cabin in the whole of Krampusland.

You should have more faith in me! Ingledurm's teeth dug into his lips as he smiled. You said we'd never escape the Dark Lands. You said we'd be caught. Yet here we are as free as the wind.

As free as the cold howling wind that brings the iciest snow and the draftiest of drafts. Hefflebletch buried her mouth beneath the high collar of her coat and blew hot breath against the wool to keep herself warm.

It is cold, and it is miserable. This is true, but... Ingledurm stroked his long wild beard as his beady little eyes sparkled. But I've just found us our very own shack!

A shack? You said we'd live in luxury!

And so we will, my dear. Ingledurm began to pace, his long pointed shoes slid across the icy ground, taking him perilously close to the rapidly freezing river. Yes, we shall have our heart's desires. I've been a-plotting and a-planning and I tell you - we are on the cusp of a fortune! Riches without hitches, igloos of gold, and far more candy than our bellies can hold!

How so?

How so? Ingledurm held up a finger and caught another snowflake. I have a plan. The grandest plan there ever was! Oh and it's a wicked one, mark my words. But the fruit it will bear will be the tastiest we've ever known. He laughed, his vile breath melting the snowflake. It ran like tears down his stubby finger. Just you wait!

Finley angled his bright red postman's hat just above the tips of his pointy elfish ears. He was still surprised he’d actually been given a position at the Post Office, despite his young age. The uniform was alright but the blasted hat; it only served to remind him, and everyone else, that his ears were very long. Far too long! About as long as my legs are short, he muttered as he absently rubbed the side of his face. His cheeks still