Fifty Vanilla Shades of Sleigh

By Maggie Hale

Two vanilla tales of Christmas naughtiness but there's nothing tame about them. Sex toys, gangbangs, and Santa like you've never seen him before. There's some holiday cheer for everyone! Titles and descriptions are below.

BAG OF TOYS:
Kara has a new promotion and a new apartment and wants to share. She plans a party for Christmas Eve and everything seems like it's going to go off great until cancellations start coming in. By the time the party is supposed to start, Kara is the only guest. But! In a twist of Christmas magic, an unexpected guest does make an appearance and he brought a bag of toys with him like she has never seen. By the end of the night it's the best Christmas that Kara has ever had but.. did it really happen at all?

ENJOY!

Approx 17,000 words

THE ELVES AND MRS. CLAUS:
Santa hasn't given Mrs. Claus what she really wants for Christmas in centuries. But, with the arrival of the happiness elves that's all about to change. Five male elves, three female elves, and Mrs. Claus come together to revive that Christmas spirit and things get a lot more messy than just wrapping paper.

ENJOY!

Approx 13,000 words

APPROX 30,000 words total

• Language: English
• Publisher: Maggie Hale
• Release date: Jan 8, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310315138

Maggie Hale

Instead of saying 'I've always been good at writing' I'll say that I've always enjoyed writing. That should dodge some disagreement and criticism from people with too much time on their hands I think. Being generally unsatisfied with my job (clerical temp/administrative assistant) I started looking for creative pursuits to fulfill me. In a funny coincidence, it wasn't until my boyfriend and I split up that I decided to write. After a couple weeks apart I found myself trolling websites for a couple hours a day looking for something to get me off and nothing seemed to do the trick. I like to be able to picture the scenes and feel like I'm right there, like I might get a bit of cum on me if I'm not careful. Watching porn didn't engage me enough and most of the writing I found was too short or too much of the "then he banged her a bunch and they came all over, she owed him for such a good banging" variety. So, I resolved to write stories that interested me but also made me cum like a waterfall. In my Lily series, I give the power back to the heroine. However she finds she is still a slave to her ever increasing sexual madness. If you're in the mood for something darker and infinitely dirtier, check out my Taboo Tales series. Keep an eye out for new volumes as they should become available at least once a week.

Book preview

Fifty Shades of Sleigh Vanilla Bundle

Copyright 2013 Maggie Hale

All Rights Reseved.

Published by Maggie Hale on Smashwords

Book design by Maggie Hale

Cover Image Copyright, 2013 © Depositphotos.com/Vanell

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Author's note: All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

Bag of Toys

The Elves and Mrs. Claus

Other Available Titles

Bag of Toys

Copyright 2013 Maggie Hale

All Rights Reseved

Kara sat on her new couch, her feet up on her old coffee table she had made herself out of recovered driftwood. She clicked through the channels, looking for anything not Christmas related while she picked lint off of her dark green skirt. Not that what was on TV was going to make much of a difference. Her apartment was decked out to the nines for a holiday party that apparently she was the only guest for. She knew that having a party on Christmas Eve wasn’t a particularly perfect plan but she had expected it to go significantly better than it was; especially since it wasn’t going on at all. She had invited thirty two people and every last one of them had cancelled. She picked up her phone, giving up on the television for the moment and in her other hand she picked up her flute of sparkling white wine.

She clicked in her lock code and navigated through the buttons until she brought up her list of text messages, all of them from yesterday and today. She couldn’t see the entirety of any of the messages, just the first line of her response. She took a long drink of her wine as she scrolled back to where the cancellations began. She had to laugh as she read through the bits of her replies, noticing how they grew shorter and more terse as she scrolled upward. It was like seeing a message based timeline of her declining mood and the death of her holiday spirit.

Dec. 23rd 8:40 AM

Don’t worry at all, sweetie…

Dec. 23rd 8:57 AM

No prob, have a great…

Dec. 23rd 11:14 AM

Ok, but you’re going to miss…

Dec. 23rd 1:04 PM

You too? Alright but we’re frenemies…

Dec. 23rd 4:11 PM

Worst decision of your…

Dec. 23 9:23 PM

Cancelled, got it.

Dec. 23rd 11:41 PM

Yeah, got it.

Dec. 24th 9:08 AM

Ok, check.

Dec. 24th 3:20 PM

No shit.

Dec. 24th 5:22 PM

Awesome. It’s fucking unanimous.

That had been the final text, the last of her invited friends expending all the effort it took to type in a couple dozen characters to let her know that they all had better things to do than come to the party they had agreed to. Thirty two confirmations and thirty two cancellations. She was batting one thousand for the worst Christmas party ever. Forcefully pressing the home button and holding down the power switch so hard she heard the shell of her phone creak in her hand, she turned it off and tossed it across the cushions where it bounced and fell to the floor.

Fucking figures, she said with a bitter sigh, deciding it looked just fine where it was. She drained the last of the wine from her glass and set it on the small side table, reaching for the bottle. As she tipped it over her glass her hand paused and she decided there was no reason to stand on ceremony and she tipped the bottle into her mouth instead. She swished the tingling booze from cheek to cheek and looked around her apartment. She was finally able to afford a nice place and tonight was supposed to be her first big party, half Christmas and half housewarming. The heavy rim of the bottle was cool against her lip, its sides wet with cold condensation. Her eyes wandered over the room as the sweet wine poured over her tongue again.

You did good, Kara. You did real good, Kid, she told herself as she took in all the decorations she had spent the last couple days putting up. Strings of lights hung around the room where the wall met the ceiling. They ringed the front door and trailed down the hallway. ‘Merry Christmas’ and ‘Happy Holidays’ banners adorned the walls around her and mistletoe hung over the front door. She had wrapped all of the tables with festive paper under the bowls of snacks and stacks of refreshments. She had bought piles of extra bowls, plates, and glasses, all of them emblazoned with Frosty or Santa or a tree surrounded by snowflakes. The angry part of her wanted to find a sharpie and deface every last one of them. The really angry part of her wanted to throw them in her fireplace and spend the rest of the night watching the mocking holiday faces melt like ark raiding Nazis. She took an extra long drink from the heavy bottle as frigid drips fell on her legs, letting three swallows pass before she lowered it again.

She could see into the kitchen through the pass through window to the fridge she had also wrapped in a silly amount of festive paper. It even had a big red bow on the door. A bow that no one would see until it went out with the rest of the garbage. She had even trimmed all of the cabinets in tinsel. That had been a huge pain in the ass.

Totally worth it! she cheered. Her voice was heavy with sarcasm and she raised the bottle over her head to toast her labors before taking another long swig of the wine. She held the bottle in front of her, holding the grapes in her mouth and reading the label. It was almost all French gobbledygook to her. For a moment she thought she should have tried harder in Madame Freneau’s class but then she realized that she didn’t care what the bottle read.

"Desole Monsieur, but you’re just not going to cut it tonight. She dropped the bottle on the side table with a ‘klunk’ planning to get her ass off of the couch and get something with a little higher octane. She smoothed her skirt and pulled her oversized sweater down, pausing to look at what she was wearing. Her sweater was bright red with a ring of Christmas trees stitched to it that stood out from the fabric. The rest was dotted with plastic snowflakes and had epaulets that were supposed to resemble snow. As awful as it was and even though it was roomy it was one of those items of clothing that just fit perfectly so it didn’t matter what the outside looked like, it made everything inside look damn good. Below it she had on a dark green skirt that barely made it to mid thigh and hugged her tightly on its way. Her legs were wrapped in black tights that were peppered with tiny candy canes. They moved like a kaleidoscope as she rubbed her legs together, her feet moving one over the other. Even more frustrated because she knew she looked as good as she had made the apartment look and no one was going to see it, Kara dropped her feet to the floor and pushed herself off of the couch. Her vision swam a little and she put out her hands to balance herself, the champagne chugging having already gone a bit to her head.

Hmmm, not a bad start.. she said with a chuckle. She walked into the kitchen and was struck again with how much she had spent not just in effort on all the decorations but the amount of money that had gone into all the food and drinks she had provided for the gala. Her kitchen table was covered with a makeshift centerpiece of colorful liquor bottles that was surrounded by trays of cookies, brownies, and savory treats as well. She pulled a squat bottle of bourbon out of the middle, looking forward to the sweet, smoky taste of the brown liquor. With her other hand she picked up a green plastic glass that had a smiling cherubic Santa face on its side. She thought of getting a different one but realized that any of the Christmas themed glasses were going to make her mad at this point.

She set the bottle and the table and took the glass to the enormous present looking refrigerator to pull some ice cubes out of the freezer. They clattered against each other and the thin plastic sides of the glass. Her mouth was already salivating in anticipation of the corn sweetness and the forgetful bliss inside the bottle. She didn’t bother grabbing any mixers as she snatched the bottle off of the table and took glass and bottle back to her place on the couch. She poured while she walked, watching the liquor slide over the cubes, turning them gold and amber as it filled. She set the bourbon down next to the champagne,