Essie’s a smart-talking, sassy Christmas elf stranded in bumble-chuck nowhere. On a mission for the big guy—psst, it’s Santa—she’s been sent to double check the nice and naughty list before the magical night arrives. An apprentice in training, she fails to fully charge her invisibility belt and winds up being very visible: pointy ears, green and gold outfit, striped panties and all.

Mistaken for a prostitute, Essie winds up in Sheriff Dalton’s jail. Dalton is not sure what to make of Essie, but the only hotel is closed for the night and he has no place to store her but the “drunk tank."  Like a southern gentleman he is, he offers to put her up for the night in his house.

Since this is a short story and a romance, you can imagine where this leads.

“You call fornicating on the living room floor under a Christmas tree the definition of a good person?” says Santa Claus. Santa and his elves are the only non-stereotypical characters in this short tale by J. Morgan. There’s a little too much typecasting going on in Elfing Around. Don’t get me wrong. I loved all the cutesy phrases: for tinsel’s sake, Vixen’s Bells, eggnog cooler, crying on a polar bear’s shoulder. Even “hoor” had me giggling (sorry, inside joke).

However, like drinking an entire bottle of wine as opposed to a single glass, it goes over the top.

 It took me several re-readings to pinpoint the source of my discontent. I think Mr. Morgan doesn’t quite have a grasp on the feminine point of view. Since the story is told in female first person, this is an issue for me. My husband, however, loved Essie. My advice for the ladies? Buy this story for your significant other and have him read it to you. Single? This tale isn’t going to get you hot and bothered enough to take matters into your own hands.