DECEMBER 1, 2007

'Tis the season for holiday fun!

No matter what tradition you follow at this time of year, you can enjoy the Torquere Press advent calendar! Every day in December we'll have a treat for you, from coupons and special deals to stories, recipes and anecdotes from our great authors.

Authors contributing to the calendar include Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Julia Talbot, Tory Temple and many, many more! Each day you just click on the date, and a wonderful stocking stuffer will appear!

To kick off the month we have a 15% off BA Tortuga's ebook, Racing the Moon today!

Come home to Torquere for the holidays all month long!

***

Redneck Christmas by BA Tortuga

Sonny stared at his preparations, tilting his head this way and that.

God knew, MJ wasn't exactly a Santa fan, being a little too new-agey. Their idea of Christmas in their time together had mostly been, hey, it's a holiday. Let's fuck.

Still, every once in awhile, Sonny thought about how his momma used to do it up right, with trees in every room, each one color coordinated to the furniture. She'd bake cookies for a month, and overspend on presents just to get back at Sonny's daddy for being gone all the time.

Well, and for buying all that jewelry for his mistresses.

So. On their last landfall, Sonny had picked up some supplies. He'd gotten the palm fronds just that morning, hitting the little island they anchored at to pull some greenery. Then he'd set them up in the cabin, stringing up the little set of rainbow lights. For ornaments, he had Ding-Dongs, still in the package, and some obscene penis cookies he'd had hidden in the freezer.

The garland consisted of little plastic guns, grenades and pipe-bombs that he'd bought from the dime store, along with those little plastic soldiers with their feet stuck together with that weird little puddle of goo.

Festive *and* psycho.

Kind of like MJ.

There was something missing. Oh, shit. Stockings. Huh. Well, Sonny hadn't bought any, and he sure didn't want to string up any of his funky socks, so he hunted around until he found a couple of MJ's knit watch caps, the ones he used when he was doing that commando thing, and hung them from a beam with little hooks, sticking a few palm leaves in them.

There. Perfect.

It wasn't exactly traditional, but it seemed fitting.

MJ was sleeping up on deck, so Sonny went to the tiny galley to start pancakes, pulling out the canned milk and the Bisquick, hoping to hell he didn't burn anything. Nothing would wake MJ up faster than the smell of smoke on a boat, and Sonny was no chef, for sure.

Pancakes, some of that weird sausage they'd picked up in Nassau, and a mimosa. That ought to put MJ in the Christmas frame of mind. Hoo yeah. Might even get him a blow job.

Then again, it might get his teeth knocked back into his mouth. Had *had* wrapped MJ's Glock in tinsel, after all…

Grabbing his little tray (complete with sliced bananas and pineapple, because damn it, bananas were their very own tradition) Sonny headed over to the stairs, sticking his head up to holler.

"Precious! Get your ass up and come down here! It's Christmas morning!"

A sleepy murmur of, "Come up and suck my dick, asshole," floated down to him, and Sonny grinned hugely.

Yeah. MJ wasn't so much on the Spirit of Christmas. Sonny set the food aside and went to do just what MJ told him to.

He, at least, was all about peace on earth and good will toward men.

***

1 oz. Grand Marnier
2 splashes of orange juice
Champagne

Pour Grand Marnier into a champagne flute. Fill almost to the top with champagne and top off with fresh orange juice.