Christmas Songs Polar Express

After I announced my exit from the music industry, the public response was overwhelmingly positive. The only person who voiced his objection was my girlfriend's rumored lover, the up-and-coming songwriter Lucas Zacker. He put on a show of sincerity in front of a crowd of reporters. "It's all a misunderstanding. Matthew is an irreplaceable talent in the music industry. I sincerely hope he returns to the stage." I shut off my phone and turned a blind eye to his public plea. In my past life, one of my songs had been identical to his supposedly original single. As such, netizens accused me of plagiarism, cursing me and wishing death upon my family. Frustrated, I posted the entire creation process online, but it couldn't stand up to the timeline. His new song had been released ten minutes ahead of mine. Just because of the ten-minute difference, netizens sent me photoshopped mourning portraits of myself and even went so far as to come to my house and vandalize it with paint. The relentless cyberbullying went on for years, and it drove me into a deep depression. My parents exhausted their life savings trying to clear my name, only for crazed fans to set our house on fire, causing my parents to burn to death. In the end, when his song won an award, I jumped off a building. But who would have guessed that when I opened my eyes again, I was reborn on the very day the new song was set to release.

I get reborn, this time bound to a simp system. In my previous life, when the apocalypse happened during Christmas Eve, I gave Victoria Blake, a beautiful woman, shelter and respite, only for her to backstab me in the end. Apparently, she had revealed my home's location to a scion named Tristan Cole when I wasn't paying attention. Not only did those bastards take over my shelter, but they also tossed me to the zombie horde. When Tristan asked Victoria if she felt guilty, she just reclined in his arms while tittering daintily. "That's just one of the lapdogs I've reared. If he's dead, then so be it." Now that I'm given a second chance at life, I'll make sure to repay them for the pain and hurt they've caused me in my previous life.

Bruce Styles has a thriving career as a field agent in the FBI, a list of women at his beck and call, and great family and friends. His life is perfect until he sets his sights on Margo St. John. After Bruce had ghosted Margo's best friend and stiffed her with an exuberate dinner bill last year, she wanted nothing to do with the playboy. Thinking that if she gives him what he wants he would go away, Margo agrees to go out on a date with him. After dinner – and a one night stand, Margo resumes her life. However, Bruce has other ideas. Margo has a strange effect on him and he can't let it – or her go. When she disappears after Christmas Day, Bruce exploits every resource to locate her. What he finds is more than he bargained for.

On the last day of the year, my music player app pushed out my 2025 listening report. My keyword was 'Resonance.' I had not actually spent much time listening to music that year. My account had mostly been used by my boyfriend, Jeremy Steward. A small line of text appeared underneath. [At 4:00 A.M. on December 1st, you were still sharing the same song with someone. So this is what love looks like, staying awake through the night.] My breath caught. December 1st was my birthday. However, that night, I had gone to bed early. Jeremy had rushed off right after cutting the cake, saying he needed to go back to the office for overtime. Almost as if possessed, I tapped my trembling hands on the unfamiliar profile that showed up as my most frequent interaction. Their keyword for the year was 'Exclusively Yours.' My heart skipped. I opened the details. [This year, you and this user listened to songs together late at night 688 times. Every time is a private whisper between souls.] Right then, a message from Jeremy popped up on my phone. [Babe, I have to work late again tonight. Don't wait up for me. Sleep early, okay?] At the same moment, that unfamiliar account posted a new update. A photo of two hands intertwined inside a car, fingers tightly laced together. [I love working late with him the most. We'll listen to music together for a lifetime.]

Ashley Simpson was supposed to be married to her father's choice — George Chulley, the son of the Oil Magnate on Christmas Eve but fate had different plans. On the night of their engagement party, a day before their wedding, Ashley is told to meet her soon-to-be husband, George Chulley in his hotel room to show her loyalty. Before she goes over, she gets drunk. Her drunken state leads her to enter the wrong room. The room of Alex Wayne — The Billionaire owner of Wayne's enterprise. She and the billionaire have a rendezvous. In the course of their sex, Virgin Ashley falls in love, but she is not the only one. When she wakes up, he is no longer there. Ashley is from the drug dealers world while Alex is from the corporate world. Alex and Ashley's rendezvous takes them on a path of sizzling love and adventure. In the end, would their love be worlds apart?

Christian wants only revenge on the man who destroyed his father's life, and he doesn't care who he makes the victim of his plans, as long as he achieves his goal. On the other hand, a married couple, the twins Lynnet and Linda, one scheming, envious with a heart full of evil, the other naive, gentle, who has been mistreated by everyone, face each other for Christian's love. Whom will the man choose? Will he be able to discover the true face of the twins before an innocent is harmed? Registration with Safecreative under number 210715835980. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or adapted in any form or by any means without the express permission of the author. This novel is a product of my imagination, so it is fiction, the conflicts of the protagonists or the way they resolve them does not imply that I, as a person, endorse their methods of conflict resolution. I am against any psychological, physical or cyber violence. If you can't stand conflict situations or scenes of this kind. Then I suggest you look for another story and not continue with this one.

Dad was poor and couldn't afford the kind of lifestyle mum wanted, we had leaking roofs and broken furnitures. Mum got worse when she met her former high school friend who got married to the CEO of a popular company in the city. Few weeks later my mum started keeping late nights, dad would ask why and she would yell at him. How can I forget that beautiful Christmas eve? it was supposed to be a beautiful dinner in our small living room when mum ruined it by announcing that she was getting a divorce. After mum left, dad became a drunk and never looked at my face, he said it reminded him of mum. My mother destroyed our family, my childhood and the little happiness I had as a child, She had another daughter for the billionaire she left dad for and forgot I exist, I became even more heartbroken, after dad died of cancer, I wanted revenge! My name is Sophia Barlowe and this is my story…

In New York’s Upper East Side, there were two heirs. One was a speed-obsessed daredevil dominating the racetracks, the other was a brilliant actuary who controlled the flow of capital. Born into powerful families and polar opposites in temperament, yet they grew up side by side as each other’s only best friend. They had fought over girls and bickered endlessly over racing bets. However, at fifteen, there was one thing they did in perfect unison. They each put on the same roughly carved bronze badge. They were trinkets Mia had idly made during a craft class, marked only by a faint “M” scratched on the back. Back then, Mia was seated in the last row of the classroom. Her background was a complete mystery to everyone. Yet they wore that badge for ten whole years. Whether standing on the F1 podium or locking in billion-dollar trades at the exchange, the cheap little badge on their chests never changed. Until Ella showed up. She was the cherished daughter of a rising conglomerate family. She hand-stitched two gold-thread fabric patches and gifted them to them. The patches looked so ordinary they looked like the kind of trinket you would find three for a dollar at a flea market. And yet, they both replaced their bronze badges with her plain patches. Mia did not say anything. She simply folded away an old newspaper clipping with a photo of the three of them smiling together. That night, she called her father in Sicily. Her voice was emotionless. “Papa, I accept the marriage arrangement.”

During Christmas dinner, my mother-in-law hinted for the umpteenth time that she wanted a grandchild. However, my husband, Zachary Cole, who had insisted on staying child-free in the past decade, only smiled and filled her plate. After dinner, he slipped onto the balcony. "There, there. Daddy will come see you on New Year's Day," he whispered. I stood in the corner of the living room with a glass of water in my hand, feeling cold as the words sank in. I stepped forward and forced a playful tone. "I just heard you say 'Daddy.' Got a secret kid stashed somewhere?" He rubbed his nose, his voice stiff. "You must've misheard. That's… just a friend's kid." My heart sank. I'd been married to him for a decade, so I knew exactly what he looked like when he was lying.

My husband doesn't love me or our daughter. It's been six years since she was born, but he's never held her. The doctors say he has an emotional disorder, and that he doesn't know how to express the way he feels. But when his true love returns, he smiles at us for the first time. He even brings our daughter a gift. I think it's because he's finally seen sense… until she and I see the photo he uses as his phone's wallpaper. In it, his eyes are crinkled as he smiles. He has one arm around a little girl whose front tooth is missing, and he holds his true love's hand with the other. My daughter tugs on my hand, and her eyes redden. "Mommy, do you think we should leave? Should we give Daddy three final chances? Let's leave him if he still doesn't want us after that."