Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Nico
Have you ever fallen in love with a man as he was pointing his gun at you? Well, I have. Tiny problem? I’m in the middle of my murderous Christmas tradition, and he’s a witness.
But it’s not his fault I got too excited and didn’t check if I was alone. I can’t just kill him because of my own blunder. Not when he has such dreamy green eyes filled with fear and pent-up rage.
What I can do is take him with me for safekeeping while I work out how to make him understand that while my methods are cruel, my intentions are pure.
Or how to make him fall for me.
Whichever is first.
Blake
My eighteenth birthday was supposed to be the happiest day of my sheltered life. Finally, I would gain independence and inherit half my family fortune. Instead, I ended up kidnapped.
I was about to get carved into pieces when… a Christmas miracle in the form of a beefy homicidal maniac saved me.
Only now I’m trapped in his basement and getting love bombed by a psycho golden retriever. He eats turkey sandwiches for every breakfast, enjoys making festive ornaments out of human teeth, and lets his violent urges shine like a Christmas tree.
I shouldn’t find him hot.
I shouldn’t want to indulge his murderous tendencies.
And I definitely shouldn’t want him to be my first.
But I’m being hunted and might just need a monster to keep me safe.
(And he does actually make really good fruitcake)
“Ho Ho Homicidal Maniac” is a standalone M/M dark romance where a Christmas-obsessed serial killer falls for a poor little rich boy who also happens to be his favorite true crime podcaster.
Themes and Size difference, serial killer, mistrust, small town, loneliness, possessive hero, grumpy/sunshine, dark humor, abduction, first love, morally gray, sheltered rich boy, psychopath, black cat/golden retriever relationship, stockholm syndrome, betrayal, first time, opposites attract, stuck together, fish out of water, CHRISTMAS, dark secret, dude in distress, wallflower.
Kidnapping, violence, gore, strong language, and steamy, explicit scenes
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter 1
Blake
It’s just my luck that my first-ever evening at a gay nightclub ends like this.
My head is a snow globe filled with tar. Scattered thoughts whir without rhyme or reason, but as I wake up and open my eyes, the world falls back into place.
I don’t like a single thing about my new reality.
The musty smell of the stained mattress I’m on reaches my senses first, but as everything comes into focus, my muscles calcify with terror.
A camera mounted on a tripod is pointing straight at me, and when I look around, I realize I’m in a real-life horror movie.
The X-shaped frame of a Saint Andrew’s cross, complete with wrist and ankle restraints, towers over me and casts a long shadow on my legs. Knives and saws hang on the wall, lined up by size, and the smell of dried blood is barely covered by the overwhelming stench of bleach.
Once I’m certain there’s no one else here, I lift my head and attempt to dart toward the camera, but a tug on my waist pulls me right back onto the musty bedding with a loud clang of the chain attached to the steel belt sitting around my midsection. I narrowly avoid hitting my head on the wall, but as my temples pulse from the onslaught of fear, I grab the ring digging into my tender flesh. It’s attached to the wall with links that refuse to budge when I pull.
I have always considered myself smart. I’ve consumed so many true-crime documentaries, I started my own podcast, and yet, when a guy dressed up as a sexy Santa bought me a shot at the club, I didn’t even blink twice before downing it. He complimented my dark curls, whispered a sweet word about my green eyes, and I fell into his trap.
After all, it’s my eighteenth birthday, and I left my house for the first time in weeks. I was supposed to have the time of my life, and my brother got me a fake ID so I could enter a gay nightclub. I even dressed up in a dumb Christmas elf costume in hope of attracting someone willing to take my V-card.
I glance down at the ridiculous green shorts and candy cane-patterned stockings.
If I’m so smart, how could I have been so stupid?
I would have texted my friends about where I was going, or even been there with them… if I had any.
Instead, I’m knee-deep in my worst nightmare, because the last thing I remember is Sexy Santa helping me walk when the spiked drink started working, and now I’m in a sex-and-murder basement, surrounded by raw concrete walls and furniture I don’t even want to name. They all bear traces of much use, and as I imagine this stranger strapping me to one of them to inflict torture, panic blurs all my thoughts. I helplessly pry at the lock of the steel belt around my waist.
Maybe my abductor made a fatal mistake that might just save my life? I am quite slim and have the slightest chance of pulling out of this contraption. But as I wrestle the chain with my bare hands, close to having a panic attack, a door opens somewhere above. My gaze travels beyond the camera, to a staircase leading out of this place.
Before I even see the dark shadow on the steps, someone whistles ‘Deck the Halls With Boughs of Holly’.
I’m stunned into silence as I back out into the darkest corner of my prison without making a sound, hiding behind a cupboard like the little mouse I am. I’m not someone to act impulsively, especially not while in the vulnerable position I found myself in.
The whistling man’s silhouette is tall, with wide shoulders, and a trim waist. He’s dressed in a fitted black top and dark jeans, but I end up focusing on his balaclava which features… ears. Cute, round teddy bear ears.
My stomach clenches, but I’m soon distracted by the resounding thud thud thud created by the limp body he’s dragging behind him slamming against the stairs again and again. He pulls it all the way down with a final tug that reminds me of a figure skater spinning his partner in a death spiral. The corpse slides over the floor, and from the shadows of my hideout I see a dark shape eject from his pocket and roll toward me.
I’m so frightened even breathing feels like too much of a risk, but when I recognize the fallen item to be a small gun, determination floods my veins. Despite my guts coiling as though they’re full of snakes, I hold the chain attaching me to the wall, to keep it from clinking, and lean forward, trying to make myself as small as possible. The man in black still has his back to me, so I need to move fast.