Christmas Stories Adults Novels & Stories

’ She giggled and kissed his nose, ‘Well I’m quite sure the Brothers Grimm, never meant the Big Bad Wolf to marry Little Red Riding Hood, did they? The End

Please leave a comment to let me know how I am doing with the story and how I can improve in the future. So until then, I wish you one and all a very blessed Christmas and a Happy New Year. Love, JDHWS

“This is your gig. You read it.” “All right. It says, ‘My Darling Daughters: I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there with you for Christmas, but it is beyond my control. Know that I love you and am thinking of you, and wishing I was there. I’ve put together a few items for you as my Christmas present. First is one videotape for you to share. I put it in Pammy’s package. It shows you where I live here, my barracks, that sort of thing. Then there’s a different videotape in each of your packs. On each one, I am reading one of your favorite stories. So now I can read to you any time you want.’”

I had made it. ‎People rushed past me—families reuniting, couples holding hands, businessmen barking into phones—but I stood frozen near the curb, a small island in a chaotic sea of coats and scarves. A giant Christmas tree glittered near the taxi stand, its lights blurring as my eyes stung. ‎ ‎*Don’t cry, Ariana. You promised Mom you wouldn’t cry.* ‎ ‎I closed my eyes, inhaling the scent of jet fuel and roasted chestnuts, letting the memory of the goodbye at the terminal back home wash over me.

He was tall, really tall for a Santa Claus, that I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes—oh, his eyes. They were an icy gray that seemed to bare my soul, uncovering every hidden secret before his eyes. I felt a cold shiver run down my spine, but I couldn't tell if it was from the cold or the way those eyes made me feel, something so distinct yet I couldn't put my hands on it. “Merry Christmas,” he murmured, his deep baritone causing my heart to thrum so loudly in my chest I could only stand there and gawk like a damn fool.

At the bottom of the frame a woman's hand rested on the waistband of his trousers, her position making it clear she was on her knees. The whole image just sat there saying everything it needed to say without a single word. Chloe and I looked at each other and we pressed it at the same time. “That's it.” “Yep! Absolutely it!” A message loaded and popped up in the home screen. Chloe read it out loud, slowly, in the voice she used when something was almost too much. "Your Christmas Fantasy is about to get dangerous. If you can resist the heat—" she stopped. Looked at me. "Come with your dripping pussy."

“When I used to work for G****e out West, we once had Bon Jovi play our Christmas party. There was a raffle every hour and first prize was a Jaguar. Excuse me if I’m not enthused about your cassette tape player and Costco liquor.” “We actually went all out this year, so consider yourself lucky the CEO flew in from Pittsburgh to join our shindig.” They both turned toward the 50-year-old across the room. Next to him was his silver-haired wife who spoke graciously to everyone. Suddenly, sales director Charlie went to speak in the man’s ear. Moments later, the two men joined the regional manager Dirk by the water cooler. They spoke in hushed tones before disappearing in the latter’s corner offic

Merry Christmas, dearest readers. I extend my heartfelt Christmas wishes to you. Thank you for your support, enthusiasm, and the time you dedicate to my work. Your encouragement always means more than words can fully express. May this festive season bring you joy, peace, and warmth, and may the new year unfold with hope and wonderful moments. Cheers to many more journeys together. Merry Christmas and best wishes. Ameerawrites

I tilted my head to the side, not understanding what he was driving at. He grabbed my hands and walked me to a mantled bed, leveling up on it, before he continued with his sermon, "Every year Santa gives out gifts and helps people to fulfill their wishes, but none ever care if Santa too needs a gift or has a wish that needs to be fulfilled, so why don't you grant this Santa his wish then?" I snaked my head backwards, my face squeezed in total confusion. I was the one who needed help, not him, right? "I don't understand; do you want me to fulfill a wish for you?" He gave a sharp and quick nod, the mysterious grin never leaving his lips.

I learned to be thankful and quiet. That acceptance made me hate Christmas. Love songs made my skin crawl. The lights under our tree looked like glass eyes. The ribbons on the presents were traps. Every year, the house tuned itself to cheer and I pretended to enjoy it. The twenty-fifth became the night when a new kind of cold touched my bones. It was the day the truth had crawled out at me like an animal. It was the day I had learned how much of my life had been decided by other hands.