"Visions far tastier than sugarplums dance in Santa's head tonight..."
His generosity is legendary. He has a devoted wife, a crack team of sky-borne reindeer, hordes of industrious elves, and the love of good little boys and girls around the globe. But what dark desire now propels him into the lascivious clutches of a certain fairy? And who was he before sleigh and workshop, in times forgotten?
She munches on molars, summons drowned sailors to her pleasure, and recalls, sharp as a pinprick, her life as the most savage of ash nymphs. Why then is she stuck, night after night, hovering above pillows to leave coins for gap-toothed brats? More important, how quickly can she captivate the jolly old elf to the north?
He's huge, fluffy, lonesome, and unbearably horny. On his Easter rounds, he contrives, as often as possible, to get a grip on himself and stare into interesting bedrooms. But who in the world will throw him down and ravage him as the lovers under his gaze ravage one another?
For the answers, unknot that bright red bow, tear off those wrappings, and enjoy!
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