'Twas The Night Before Thanksgiving

On the night before Christmas, Aria Smith believes she is living the life she built with love, sacrifice, and quiet resilience. Married for eight years, a devoted mother to her eight-year-old daughter, and the primary provider in her household, Aria has learned to carry responsibility with grace. Her marriage may not be glamorous, but it is steady—or so she thinks. One dinner. One toast. One familiar promise. That is all it takes for her world to feel complete. Until a single message dismantles everything. What begins as an anonymous warning becomes undeniable proof that her husband has been living a double life, one funded by her success, hidden behind her trust, and thriving in the shadows of her marriage. As the truth unfolds through videos, transactions, and names she has never heard before, Aria is forced to confront a devastating reality: the man she loved is a stranger, and the life she believed in was built on a lie. With Christmas morning approaching and her daughter watching closely, Aria must decide what comes next: silence or confrontation, survival or transformation. But as the night deepens, it becomes clear that this betrayal is only the beginning, and the choices she makes now will change everything. The Night Before Christmas is a gripping emotional drama about marriage, deception, and the moment a woman realises her strength was never in question, only delayed.

My wife booked plane tickets for the whole family to travel over the Thanksgiving holiday. On the way to the airport, I suddenly noticed that everyone had a number floating above their head. The number above my wife's head was 60 years. Above my parents' heads and mine, it showed only six hours. As I wondered what the numbers meant, I looked through the car window and noticed the driver in the car beside us had only six seconds left. 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... The moment the countdown reached zero, a speeding semi-truck slammed head-on into the car next to us. The car exploded into twisted metal, and debris flew everywhere right in front of my eyes. People around us screamed and cried for help, but I couldn't hear a thing. My whole body was trembling. Because six hours later, our flight was scheduled to take off.

As Christmas drew near, my little sister claimed she’d seen Santa Claus in the house. “He had four legs, real long, like dead branches. He crawled on the floor like a dog. His mouth was full of teeth, and I saw him with my own eyes, climbing out of the chimney. His bones were making this clicking, clacking sound.” The Santa she described was nothing like the legends. My parents and I thought it was just her imagination. Until I posted about it online. A user named “NocturneNotes” insisted my sister wasn’t lying, and that the thing was dangerous. Panicked, I asked him what we should do. He gave me three rules: “On Christmas Eve, from 11:30 PM to 2:00 AM, the entire family must ‘sleep’ by the Christmas tree.” “You can’t actually fall asleep, or you’ll die in your sleep.” “No matter what you hear or feel, you absolutely cannot open your eyes or stop pretending to be asleep. Once it hits 2:00 AM, it will leave on its own.”

Because of a last-minute business trip, my husband missed the Thanksgiving family dinner. I spent the entire day helping out at my in-laws' place in the countryside with our five-year-old son, only to receive a complaint from the downstairs neighbor just before dinner. "Ari, could you please close your kitchen window when you're cooking? I can smell the hot sauce from all the way here. My husband has a lung condition—he can't handle it." My neighbor's words shocked me, and I immediately called my husband, who was allergic to chili peppers. "Honey, did someone break into the house? The neighbor said there was smoke coming from the kitchen." His breathing hitched for a second before he let out a casual laugh. "No break-in. My flight got canceled, so I was home alone cooking. When are you two coming back? I really miss you." I smiled and told him we'd stay a couple more days, but in the middle of the night, I packed up our son and drove straight home.

My husband promised we would spend Thanksgiving with my parents this year. Right before we left, he looked down at his phone and frowned. "Damn it. I forgot to change the delivery address again. Your parents' gift basket went to Cassia's place." I stood in the entryway with my fingers frozen around my scarf. For three years of marriage, Roman DeLuca had never removed Cassia Vail's address from his shopping apps. Whenever I asked him why, he always said the same thing: "Cassia and I grew up together. She’s basically family." The Italian espresso machine I wanted went to her apartment. He said her old machine had broken anyway. The sapphire bracelet for our wedding anniversary was signed for by her. He said asking for it back after she opened it would look petty. The sunflowers and baby's breath he promised me on Valentine's Day ended up in her hands. He said she had already put them in a vase, and he couldn't give me secondhand flowers. This time, I had reminded him for two weeks. The Thanksgiving basket had a low-sugar pumpkin pie, nut-free cookies, and a custom low-sodium turkey roll for my father. I had chosen every item myself. It still went to Cassia. I kept my voice steady. "Drive over and get it back." Roman's face darkened. "She already signed for it. What do you want me to do? We'll pick up wine and pastries on the way. Same thing." "It isn't the same. Get it back." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Elena, can you stop turning every little thing into a family trial? No one makes things awkward like you do." Every time something meant for me ended up with his childhood sweetheart, I asked him to get it back. Every time, I got some version of the same answer. I stopped arguing and watched him slam the door behind him. A few minutes later, I wiped my tears and texted my attorney. [Happy Thanksgiving. Please draft a divorce agreement for me. Thank you.]

Holly has always loved Christmas, but this year is different. As a school teacher, she’s worried about her students, her dad, and her entire town. All of them are poised for a terrible Christmas, and there’s nothing she can do about it. The only bright spot in her life is the mysterious man she meets at the holiday party. Nathan has always hated Christmas, but this year is different. As a billionaire, he’s excited about his new plans for his company, but as always, it’s all about the money. When he meets the bubbly woman who doesn’t care about his wealth, love blossoms under the mistletoe. It almost seems like magic. But their lives are more intertwined than either of them originally thought. It turns out that Nathan’s plan for the future of his company is the very thing that’s destroying Holly’s community. Holly begins to understand why everyone refers to Nathan as a Scrooge, and she thinks that the wonderful man she shared a passionate weekend with was nothing more than a lie. Will Nathan be able to prove that she saw the real him? Will Christmas magic prevail, or will their love vanish like a kiss under the mistletoe? NYT Bestseller Krista Lakes brings you this brand new heartwarming holiday romance. This standalone novel will convince you that love can make the magic of Christmas real.