Michael Jackson Christmas Novels & Stories

“This time of year, I like all the Christmas ones. The gushier the better.” “Gushy…” It wasn’t a question, but she answered anyway. “You know… The happy cry ones. Heck, I even tear up when the Grinch’s heart grows at the end of that little cartoon.” She sighed. “But to be fair, I’ve been known to get teary at a heart-tugging commercial at Christmas time.” “Yeah… I don’t do Christmas.” “So, I’ve noticed,” she said, tipping her head to one side to study him. If anything, his features had tightened, his eyes had grown darker. Just the mention of the holiday had been enough to close him up tight. And still, Sparkle couldn’t resist trying to reach him.

I curled up with Chris in his bed as we watched a movie. He’s been worried about me over the past week, which I feel bad about. I hate worrying everyone. Chris surprised me with a home-cooked dinner and a movie; A Journey Back to Christmas, my favorite Christmas movie ever. I sighed as we watched, “What’s wrong?” Chris asked; I shook my head, but Chris was not about to take that for an answer. He paused the movie and straightened up, waiting for me to talk to him.

She always brought out my bad side. Killian and I escaped at halftime. We drove to his mom's house and ate more pie while Killian watched the rest of the game with his brother. It was obvious that Michael loved football. His eyes were completely animated and he actually rocked his chair a time or two in his excitement. Watching Michael and Killian together watching football gave me an idea for Killian's Christmas gift. It would take some planning but I was thrilled to make this gift special. ***

I stand alone on the icy field, turning back every few minutes to look at the road behind me. When my hands grow numb from the cold, I scroll my social media feed and see a recent post from my younger sister, Giada Soave. Holding gifts in her arms, she sits beneath a luxurious crystal Christmas tree with my parents embracing her from both sides. Ivano stands behind her with his hand resting lightly at her waist and his eyes full of tenderness. The caption reads, "Merry Christmas, I'm grateful to spend the holiday with those who love me most!" The comments section buzzes with blessings, praise, and envious messages.

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

Michael thought there was no point in explaining that he hadn't left work before dark recently. “Why are you calling? Who Died?” “No one. Nobody died.” “Impossible. So what do you need?” “I don't need anything.” Michael realized that he had called his brother so rarely that he had the right to be angry with him. “I have a proposition. Let's all meet together and spend Christmas like in the good old days.” “It's a long way to Christmas. It's hard for me to say anything. But we'll consider your invitation.” "Come and visit me earlier if you can." Michael said shyly.

He jerks his head at the big blond man and down to her. Michael hunkers down close, then wraps his arms around her, almost enveloping her. "Still flooded with hormones, Babe? Try to stay calm, eh. It's Christmas and everyone's here for you." As he speaks, James reaches for the CD, easing it from her fingers. He examines it then clicks his tongue.

"We should be thanking you. This is—I mean—" "Life-changing," Marcus supplies. "Seriously," Jackson agrees. "I'm pretty sure we're never going to top this." "Well," I say, rolling over to straddle Marcus, "the night's not over yet." His eyes darken. "Again?" "One more time." I lean down to kiss him. "For Christmas." He grabs my hips, already getting hard again beneath me. "Yes ma'am." This time is slower. Less frantic. We've gotten the desperate need out of our systems and now it's just about pleasure.

he muttered. “It’s two days before Christmas.” Jason smirked. “That’s actually part of your Christmas bonus. But you have to promise not to freak out… and keep your mouth shut.” Curious and slightly drunk, Michael agreed. Jason led him to the corner office and knocked. They heard footsteps and the door was cracked open about an inch. Charlie’s eyes stared back at them. “You’re early.” “I have an eager friend.”

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.