Santa’s Kinky Elf, Simon

by Simon the Elf, with Damian Serbu

$2.99

Santa has big plans to release a story about himself right before Christmas, revealing his true nature as a vampire. He decides the best advanced publicity comes from reality stories and enlists Simon the Elf, a captive former human, to hit Chicago for the holidays and strike up a romance.

Santa wants Simon to document the whole thing, so they can give people a taste for life under Santa’s enslavement before the main story hits. Forced to the Second City against his will, Simon at first resists Santa’s orders, knowing a romance would be short lived at best, and at worst bring some innocent victim into Santa’s evil orbit.

But Simon failed to reckon with the charm and wit of Jonah, a hot guy he meets his first night on the town. Falling hard, Simon takes up with his new love despite knowing the awful choice ahead of him. Santa’s Kinky Elf, Simon, tells you this tragic love story in the elf’s own words.

Santa's Kinky Elf, Simon

Book Info

Author: Damian Serbu

Series: Simon the Elf

Release Date: November 5, 2018

ISBN: 978-1-949909-12-8

Format: ePub, Mobi

Cover Artist: Natasha Snow

Category: Romance

Genre: Paranormal

Word Count: 11400

Book Length: Novelette

Sex Content: Explicit

Pairing: MM

Orientation: Gay

Identity: Cisgender

Warning: no HEA/HFN

Excerpt

Santa’s Kinky Elf, Simon
Damian Serbu © 2018
All Rights Reserved

I amble down the hall, taking as much time as possible before getting to Santa’s little chamber. Delay, delay, delay. Not that my reticence will change reality or get me out of whatever he wants. No, here at the ole North Pole, Santa reigns supreme. He’s a vampire, see.

Crap. I realize you may not know the story yet. I spelled it out in Santa Is a Vampire. I wrote the book, though they put some hack named Damian Serbu on the credit line with me. Fuckers. Anyway, you can check it out to get the whole scoop once it comes out, so I’ll cut to the chase here. Santa is a nasty-ass vampire, of the evil variety, and a warlock to boot, with a wicked form of magic.

“Simon, now!” I hear Santa bellow down the icy hallway. Remember, we’re up here at the North Pole in Santa’s castle, which he hides from the whole world with a powerful concealing spell.

Instead of hurrying me along, the edge in his voice slows me down. Foul mood. No telling what he wants this time. I mean, for a while he called me all the time while he told me his story, but we finished up with our little game once Santa Is a Vampire was finished. So I’m back to being just another one of the elves up here, enslaved against my will, forced to do Santa’s bidding, no longer chumming around with him.

I stop in front of a big cardboard cutout, life-size, I’m telling you, of Santa holding a can of Coke and winking. Ugh. In addition to being a witchy vampire, dude is seriously narcissistic. He collects all sorts of Santa memorabilia and displays it around the ice palace, like this here thing. He finds it hilarious they always depict him smiling and happy with a twinkle in his eye, when really he kills people without regret—innocent people—all the time.

Shit. Here he comes. I dillydallied too long. “Hey, buddy!” I smile, tilt my head all funny, and wave like I spot my best friend in the world coming down the hall toward me.

Santa grimaces. “We’re not buddies. Never have been. Never will be. I thought I called you? No, let me correct my statement. I did call you.” He grabs me by the back of the collar and lifts me into the air, then spins around and proceeds to carry me the rest of the way to his hidden office chamber. To get there, we walk right through an ice wall. “It doesn’t take long to get from one end of the castle to the next, let alone from where you were. You don’t think I know you were in the lab with Trixy and Hedgehog? Well, I do.”

I scratch my head, my pointy little hat almost tipping off. “Well, according to most labor laws, I should get a break sometimes. I’ve been cleaning shit up for them all morning. I needed to take my time getting here in order to rest. My rights, and all.”

Santa leans back in a rocker, his eyes still a pleasant blue, but glares at me. “First, if you act this way again or continue with this attitude, you’ll really be cleaning up shit. I don’t mean figuratively, but right out there in the reindeer stalls. I haven’t had to punish you that way in a while and I miss it. Second, you have no rights up here. You point it out to me rather fondly on a regular basis. North Pole labor laws merely stipulate you do what you’re told, when you’re told, how you’re told. Nothing else to discuss or consider.”

I jump into a bright-red beanbag and lean back. “Wait! Before we settle in for our latest little chat, can I have a Santa beer?”

Santa rolls his eyes but reaches over to the little fridge and pulls a bottle out.

“Sweet.” I twist off the cap and take a big swig. Dealing with Santa is a lot easier with a good buzz. Actually, I prefer to be completely shit-faced, but sometimes alcohol loosens my tongue too much, and I get into way more trouble than I want. Leads to sessions in the ice dungeon. Not good. My ass is still sore from the last time, and not in the good kind of way.

He rocks back and forth, like a kindly gentleman, while I slam my beer, get up and replenish it, then sip this one more slowly as I wait for him. Odd. Usually we get right to business. WTF?

“Um, this is uncomfortable to me.”

Santa squints his eyes together. “What is?”

I shrug. “Sitting here silently with one another. Like, if we were lovers, you’d expect a contented silence. Something pleasant as we enjoy each other’s company. But that’s not us. So what the heck’s up?”

“Oh, Simon. Ho! Ho! Ho!” Great, fake Santa. Sometimes he delights in putting on the whole Santa show like he really embodies the loving-children-happy-jolly-fat-man stereotype. Annoying, because we know the truth.

“Oh, Santa. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Oops. I mocked him. Went too far.

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