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A Fashionably Dead Christmas

door Robyn Peterman

Reeksen: Hot Damned (5)

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It's Christmas at the Cressida House and all Hell is breaking loose.Tree? Decorated and lit. Elf on a Shelf? Seated with style. Baby Jesus on the mantle? Fourteen neatly in a row. Life sized Nutcracker? Creepy, but standing proud. Invitations sent to entire immortal family to celebrate the holiday? Possibly the stupidest damn thing I've ever done.Mixing Heaven and Hell on my cousin's famous birthday seemed like such a brilliant idea. I wanted my baby's first Christmas to be special--memorable. I'd like chalk my heinous idea up to having been fallen down drunk, but that won't fly as it's insanely difficult for a Vampyre to tie one on. So instead I'll deal with obscene gifts from relatives, kidnapped rock stars and catering by Mother Nature. To complicate matters, our new family pet thinks the whole house is his toilet. Ethan and I can't even find a room with working lock on the door to spread a little holiday cheer.Never, never again. Christmas from now on will be at a freakin' spa for the undead--no poles for dancing and no slumber parties with the Devil. I just have to make it through the next twenty-four hours without beheading a beloved one.Merry freakin' Christmas--and Happy New Year.… (meer)
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I like holiday stories, I like Christmas stories, I seem to have an odd attraction to reading holiday family stories, and I like humor. There are series and authors in which my favorite thing in the series, or by the author, happen to be holiday stories.

This was an annoying, disagreeable mess.

And please, for the love of everything and anything, stop fucking going on and on about the super old vampires whose bodies keep accidentally falling out of their outfits. It wasn't exactly that interesting the first time (or 10 or 20 times) this little bit of 'humor' popped up. But it was bearable. But . . . do we really need the same humor beaten to death, mounted on the wall, taken down, unmounted, beaten some more, then mounted to the wall again?

Also, what the fuck are 'baby Jesus' figurines? The next is unrelated, specifically, to this story, but since I'm on 'baby Jesus' anyway - why the fuck do so many fucking people seem to prefer asking help from/praying to/worshiping baby Jesus as opposed to, oh, I don't know, non-baby Jesus? They just not want some 30-something dude's help? Prefer the help of a baby? For fuck sake.

March 22 2016 ( )
  Lexxi | Jun 26, 2016 |
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It's Christmas at the Cressida House and all Hell is breaking loose.Tree? Decorated and lit. Elf on a Shelf? Seated with style. Baby Jesus on the mantle? Fourteen neatly in a row. Life sized Nutcracker? Creepy, but standing proud. Invitations sent to entire immortal family to celebrate the holiday? Possibly the stupidest damn thing I've ever done.Mixing Heaven and Hell on my cousin's famous birthday seemed like such a brilliant idea. I wanted my baby's first Christmas to be special--memorable. I'd like chalk my heinous idea up to having been fallen down drunk, but that won't fly as it's insanely difficult for a Vampyre to tie one on. So instead I'll deal with obscene gifts from relatives, kidnapped rock stars and catering by Mother Nature. To complicate matters, our new family pet thinks the whole house is his toilet. Ethan and I can't even find a room with working lock on the door to spread a little holiday cheer.Never, never again. Christmas from now on will be at a freakin' spa for the undead--no poles for dancing and no slumber parties with the Devil. I just have to make it through the next twenty-four hours without beheading a beloved one.Merry freakin' Christmas--and Happy New Year.

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