Screw Santa (MM)

Who Needs Christmas? 1

Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Heat Rating: Scorching
Word Count: 37,036
54 Ratings (4.6)

[Siren Classic ManLove: Erotic Alternative Paranormal Romance, M/M, elves, public exhibition, bondage, sex toys]

A group of twelve elves who found each other after leaving the North Pole at different times has been living together for decades. They are comfortable with their new way of life away from the Christmas atmosphere they despise. The only things missing for these serious gamers are their human mates.

Horse's hatred of Santa brought him to Illinois, where he has always viewed guys as entertainment rather than people to start a serious relationship with. That is, until he meets Bren.

Bren Griaule is a detective who is used to being in charge whether he is at work or in the bedroom. When he meets Horse, he has a chance to relinquish some of that control.

As the two start their relationship, will Bren be able to accept Horse’s dominant ways? Will the two of them be able to eliminate the threat that indirectly led to their meeting?

A Siren Erotic Romance


Click here to watch the video trailer for the Who Needs Christmas? series!

Screw Santa (MM)
54 Ratings (4.6)

Screw Santa (MM)

Who Needs Christmas? 1

Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Heat Rating: Scorching
Word Count: 37,036
54 Ratings (4.6)
In Wish List
Available formats
Cover Art by Jinger Heaston
I love a good Christmas story. Ms.Flynn has a great sense of humor and can really tell a story. I enjoyed how the story comes to life and you can't wait to find out what happens next.
Ms Flynn has done it again I truly enjoyed reading about her elves who hate Xmas. .This one was a combination of romance and action , I look forward to reading the rest of the books in the series.
Professional Reviews

"Horse and his eleven friends are all elves who left the North Pole due to their hatred of Christmas. Now settled in Illinois, they spend their time gaming, going to clubs, and getting very inventive with their lovers. Then a series of coincidences bring Horse into contact with Bren Griaule, a man who tempts Horse like no other. Could Bren be his mate? And will the human detective be able to accept Horse’s dominance and supernatural nature? Author Joyee Flynn shows she has a quirky sense of humor in Screw Santa. I giggled right and left learning Horse and his friends’ names, the reasons behind them, and their hatred of Christmas. Ms. Flynn’s humor kept me entertained when the rest of Screw Santa fell flat for me. When reading a paranormal, it’s a given that you have to suspend disbelief. That being said, there should be some form of realism and logic to the characters and their actions and I just couldn’t find much of either in Bren’s character, especially when he was tossed into so many personal and sexual situations he had no experience with. I also had a bit of an issue with there being no limits to the elves’ power. Quite simply, there was nothing to ground the story. All in all, I found Screw Santa to be a candy box of sexual kink and without any obstacles, character growth, or logic. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, unless you want something more. For me, I like there to be some basis or realism in my characters so Screw Santa just wasn’t for me. But I will give Ms. Flynn high marks for her sense of humor because the silliness in Screw Santa was delightful." -- Shayna, Joyfully Reviewed

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“Fuck Santa, and fuck Christmas,” I grumbled as I entered the house. I was soaking wet and seriously pissed off.

“What happened to you?” Idiot asked as his eyes went wide with shock.

“Some stupid werewolf pup realized what I was at the bank and demanded I take him to Santa,” I grumbled and slammed the front door. “Idiot!”

“Yes?” my friend asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, not you, the pup.” I sighed and stripped off my sopping jacket before heading to the laundry room. “And what kind of name is Idiot? Like we don’t have enough confusion in this house.”

“Hey, you named yourself Horse.” He snickered and held up his hands defensively. “I didn’t come up with the stupid tradition of kids naming themselves.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” I replied as I stretched my neck and rolled my shoulders. It was a stupid tradition. What intelligent parents let their five-year-old child name themselves? Oh right, elves. It was an ancient rite of passage that when you turned five, entered the world of elves, and were baptized with magic, you came up with your own name. Hence all of our crazy ass names.

“Come on, we’re about to start the tournament.” Idiot chuckled as he pulled some clean sweats out of the dryer. “We were starting to worry that you’d be late.”

“The pup gave chase.” I rolled my eyes as he left the room laughing. I got undressed and then yanked on the sweats before racing to the media room. Sure enough, I got ten looks of annoyance from everyone other than Idiot. “A werewolf pup smelled I was an elf at the bank. He confronted me about taking him to Santa. It’s not like I could just teleport right in the middle of the bank!”

“Finish your story while logging on.” Flower chuckled as he pointed to my gaming station. I went over there and typed in my password and waited for everything to load.

“I told him he was mistaken and left, but he followed me, dragging his mom who did nothing behind him. Then the shit pushed me in a puddle when I wouldn’t answer him. So I got up and ran until no one was around and ’ported home. People need to leash their kids, I swear.”

“We’re at two-minute countdown,” Box called out from across the room. I hurried up and put on my headset before grabbing my controller. This tournament wasn’t interactive with the motion-sensor controllers. It’s what my friends and I referred to as “old school” since it was just the plugged-in type of game.

“I’m on and ready for the intro,” I said as my avatar loaded. The twelve of us were some of the best gamers in the world. Companies came to us begging that we’d enter their tournaments so they could advertise we would be there and give every John Doe a chance to beat us. Like that was ever going to happen.

We all teamed up in these massively multiplayer online role-playing games or MMORPG. They came in the form of computer games and gaming systems like PlayStation. People called us everything from the twelve douches to the magnificent twelve. In reality we were just twelve elves that ran from the North Pole as soon as we were old enough and considered adult at twenty-one.

“Your crew all on?” the moderator asked through our headsets.

“Yep, we’re ready to roll,” I answered. Since I was the oldest by a several decades, I normally ended up speaking for the group. The announcer took over and gave the final ten-second countdown and then we were up.

Most of the time we won these events and took the prize money, not that we really needed it. We were immortal elves who had more money and power than most ancient gods. Really we just did this to keep ourselves entertained and out of trouble…most of the time.

The current game we were playing had been out since the beginning of the year and consisted of separate rounds of facing off with opponents. It took me eight shots with my lightning sword to dispatch my first guy.

“Done,” I said into the headset to the moderator. The clock came up for twenty minutes until the next round. I put my controller down and headed to the kitchen to find some grub. We tended to keep a cooler with drinks in the center of the large ballroom we converted into a media room. But since I’d been running late, I’d not gotten a chance to eat dinner.

We bought an older pre-Civil War house decades ago outside of Chicago in Deerfield, Illinois. As the years passed, we updated it to our needs. The media room was a must for what we did on a regular basis. And the ballroom had been the only place large enough to convert to fit the twelve of us without crashing into each other or talking over each other on our headsets.

“Looks like we’re playing the next round against each other,” a voice said in my ear.

“Sorry for you, dude.” I snickered as I pulled out a tray of sandwiches. None of us could cook worth shit because when someone has vast amounts of magic, they tend to be impatient. And growing up at the North Pole all we even saw how to make or ate there was holiday food, which got old. So we normally ordered trays of food for tournament days or ordered takeout. Okay, we ordered takeout most days.

“Hey, I have high standings in the game,” the kid whined in my ear.

“That’s cool,” I replied, rolling my eyes.

“Is it true that you guys are all vampires?”

I smirked at the latest rumor and ran my tongue over my sharp eyeteeth. No, we were elves, but not like the elves the fairy tales talked about. They got the pointed ears right in those books but that was about it. 




“And you want to submit to me, right?” He nodded as I started unbuttoning his shirt. “Aren’t you tired of always being in charge? You want someone to take care of you for once, don’t you, baby?”

“I’m always in charge,” he whimpered beautifully as he got hard under me. “At work I’m in charge. I have to handle everything always. And because I’m a big guy, everyone always wants me to be in charge and take care of them.”

“Say you’ll submit to me, and I’ll take good care of you,” I cooed as I pushed his shirt off his shoulders. “Give yourself to me, Bren.”

“Yes, I’m yours,” he hissed and raised his arms so I could take it off along with his undershirt. I was reading his thoughts and his deepest desires, so I knew exactly what to say to push his buttons. That might be sneaky to some people, but it’s not like I was putting those thoughts in his head. They were already there.

“You won’t have to think about what to do with me, Bren,” I whispered and licked my tongue over his nipple. “All you’ll have to do is listen to me and enjoy. But I demand complete trust that I’ll take care of you, okay?”

“Fair enough,” he moaned and arched his back. “I want you to be in charge of me. I want to submit to you, Horse. Please just don’t tease me.”

“Good boy,” I praised and got up off of his lap. I saw his handcuffs on his belt then and smiled with the wicked idea forming. “Stand up and follow me.”

He did as I asked immediately without even a questioning glance, and I could tell how badly my man needed this. I stopped him in the middle of the large media room and took his handcuffs.

“You have keys for these, right?”

“Um, yeah,” he answered, swallowing loudly as he glanced at the half a dozen friends of mine who were completely focused on us.

“Do you have a problem with an audience, Bren?” I asked as I unzipped his slacks.

“No—maybe? I’ve never done anything like this before,” Bren answered quietly as he stared down at me with nervous eyes.

“I think you’ll like it, but if you don’t, we can stop anytime.”

“Okay,” he said with a shaky voice. I stood on my toes, kissed him, and clicked the handcuffs around one wrist while he was distracted. Then I pulled it behind his back and locked the other one with it.

“Too tight?” I asked when I got back in front of him. He shook his head as he eyed me over and licked his lips. “On your knees, Bren.”

His eyes went wide as if finally realizing what I had planned.

“Don’t you want to please me?” I asked and cocked my head to the side with a raised eyebrow. I glanced at the ground and then back up to his face as if letting him know I was waiting for him to listen.

“Sorry,” he said quickly and dropped to his knees. “I want this, I really do.”

“I know you do, Bren.” I leaned over and whispered as I stroked his cheek. “All I need is for you to show me that you want me to be in charge and I’ll take you places you’ve never been before.”

When I stood back up he leaned forward and rubbed his cheek against my shorts-covered groin. Then he glanced back up to my face as if silently asking if that was okay.

“Is this what you want?” I asked playfully as I pulled out my nine-inch cock. And I wasn’t even adjusting my size… There were perks to being a magical being and an elf.

“Yes,” he whimpered and opened his mouth. I held it out for him, rubbing the slit over his tongue. He moaned and lapped at my cock like an ice cream cone. “Everyone’s watching us.”

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