Is That You Santa Claus Novels & Stories

Paunchy, clapped me on the back as I entered, his hand lingering a second too long on my waist. “Gentlemen, meet Selena, our very own Santa's Little Helper! She's here to make your Christmas merry.” Cheers erupted, glasses clinking. I scanned the room, heart picking up speed. These weren't office workers….they looked like execs, the kind who closed deals in backrooms and paid for extras.

Dear Santa, I know you’re not expecting a twenty-three year old who writes smut online whenever she’s horny to write to you about her Christmas present, but here I am, sad and floaty. My boyfriend just dumped me. Scratch that. Ex-boyfriend. You’re not gonna believe his reason. It’s because I’m fat, Santa. I’m not really fat, I’m just… not skinny. Gosh, why do people bother so much about weight? Fat people are literally the cutest. I mean, take a look at us!

" Look, I know about it because I felt it ." " What ?" " Chill. I made a guess which turned out to be true." Isla said and winked. " Christmas is coming." She said and I smiled. " Already got my stockings ready for Santa Claus." Isla said and I was forced to laugh. " Jeez , you believe in that crazy myth, Isla you're too old for that." " Come on , Santa isn't a myth." " I get it , you're trying to pull my legs." I said as we laughed.

The fact that they were peeking around a sequined Christmas tree with pointy ice crystal ornaments only added to the whole disconcertingly ominous picture. “You’re going to make kids afraid of Santa’s helpers,” Meghan said, smacking her brother. “Parents will be investing in therapy instead of building blocks.” “What do you think?” James asked Starlight, pointing at his sweater. Starlight grimaced. “It’s kinda… creepy.” James laughed. “Runner-up,” Elijah said. “But I’ll give you an A for effort.” She took in Elijah’s sweater. Dark green with wide red stitching at the collar and cuffs, a googly-eyed reindeer head smiled at her. Not only did Rudolf’s nose glow brightly, but its antlers were de

I said nonchalantly and Nanny Agatha frowns, “Isn’t he too old to marry a young beautiful girl?” “No Nanny! Santa Clause is not old! He is young. He never gets old. He has told me.” After pausing for a minute I ask Nanny Agatha, “Tell me Nanny Agatha, if Santa grows old then why his pictures of this year shows the same Santa as few years back?”

and that's final. "You".

3 year old loud. “Is Santa gone,” Isla whispered. Also loud. Copying. _Thump-thump. Thump-thump._ 62 BPM. Adrian. Next to me. Awake. Since 6. Watching door. Like June 2nd. But different. 581 days different. “Yeah,” Adrian said. Voice gravel. Morning. Christmas. “Santa’s gone. He left you 7 a mess.” _Silence. Bedroom. 7:01 AM._ “GO!”

My hands were shaking so badly I had to clasp them together in front of me to keep them still. "Five million dollars," a smooth, cultured voice announced. The room fell silent. The announcer's voice cracked with excitement. "Five million dollars from paddle number seven. Going once—" "Fifty million dollars." The words cut through the silence like a gunshot. Everyone froze. I froze. Fifty million dollars. That was impossible. That was insane. Who would pay fifty million dollars for twelve days with a stranger? The lights shifted, and I caught a glimpse of movement at the back of the ballroom. A figure stood there in a crimson Santa jacket trimmed with white fur, the costume absurdly festive a

she said, chuckling nervously. "Santa? At this time of the year?" It came as a shock to Halsey. "I'm coming in," she said and opened the door. Looking around the room, there was no Santa or Claus whatsoever. What was Nevena talking about? "Are you sure you saw Santa Claus?" "Yeah I did. A handsome six pack Santa Claus" she said biting her nails.

his tone held seriousness but I knew he was also trying to get me to laugh. I wiped away the tears that brimmed my eyes, threatening to escape from its captivity, with the back of my hand and took in a deep breath, "And how do you know what a drunk reindeer drives like?" "I don't, but I assume that if the reindeer on Santa's slay flew like how you are driving right now then not every child in the world would get their presents." "Don't tell me you still believe in the santa clause," I groaned at the grown man talking to me at the other end of the phone.