Elf Against the Wall
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When you kiss your perfect boyfriend under the mistletoe...only for your cousin to scream to the family that you stole her man, Christmas is OVER. In my defense, I didn't know my boss-yup, boss. Buckle up because this is messy-was my cousin's newly minted and totally lying fiancé. I thought he was the Nutcracker Prince come to finally show my family that I, too, was worthy of putting the star atop the Christmas tree. I was so wrong. Now my entire family thinks I'm a ho ho ho. I'm at the top of the naughty list, not in a fun Elf on the Shelf way, but rather in a snide-comments-at-brunch and si...
When you kiss your perfect boyfriend under the mistletoe...only for your cousin to scream to the family that you stole her man, Christmas is OVER. In my defense, I didn't know my boss-yup, boss. Buckle up because this is messy-was my cousin's newly minted and totally lying fiancé. I thought he was the Nutcracker Prince come to finally show my family that I, too, was worthy of putting the star atop the Christmas tree. I was so wrong. Now my entire family thinks I'm a ho ho ho. I'm at the top of the naughty list, not in a fun Elf on the Shelf way, but rather in a snide-comments-at-brunch and sitting-at-the-kids'-table kinda way. I have to clear my name, or Christmas is ruined. Again. What better way than to blackmail my family's number one sworn enemy? Anderson Wynter is this desperate elf's last hope. Six-foot-five, ethically challenged, with washboard abs and a death wish, Anderson is the perfect weapon to expose my ex and help me get back in my family's good graces. That is, until the weapon massively backfires... and no, not like that. Anderson goes full Nightmare Before Christmas and shows up at my family's annual holiday party in nothing but tattoos and a motorcycle helmet and tells everyone we're dating. Yep, that kicks me off the naughty list and sends me straight to the Grinch's garbage dump. Now I'm chained to a motorcycle-riding bad elf with terrible morals and an even worse attitude-one who sticks his hand down my shirt in the middle of my parents' posh country club and tells me to ride him like I do his bike. When I slap him, he just smirks and asks if I fluff my marshmallows while fantasizing about betraying my family with him. As if. No way am I sleeping with the man my entire family hates. Because that won't just ruin Christmas. It'll ruin the rest of my life.
