Mlp Christmas Novels & Stories

"Oh yeah? How would you know…" "Because you're the one who took the tree and the gifts, and you sold them, Jonah! You sold the very gifts that would have made them happy this Christmas! The very things you can't even promise to get for them, you took for yourself! WHAT KIND OF A HUSBAND OR FATHER IS THAT?!"

I said and without missing a beat, he slowly leaned in and took my lips in his in a passionate kiss. “I love you Iyawo mi” he whispered as we disengaged. “I love you my husband” **** 25th December “We spell Christmas and light up the tree” The Master of ceremonies said from the center of the carnival beside the huge Christmas tree and the crowd broke out in soft murmurs “Christmas is too long jhoor!” “Christmas ke” the women murmured. The Mc chuckled and waved his hands in order to get decorum again. “Alright alright!” “How about we spell Jesus? He’s the reason for the season innit?!” He asked looking around at the women’s face for approval.

Serendipity nodded, tearing her eyes away from the structure at last and smiling into those familiar green ones. As Corey led her inside, they were instantly greeted by dozens of working elves, each of whom called out, “Merry Christmas!” which Serendipity would have found rather odd considering Christmas was over months ago were she not standing in Santa’s Workshop at the North Pole. Instead, she answered with a jolly, “Merry Christmas!” in return. She noticed, and found it rather odd, that though Corey always acknowledged the speaker, he only chose to say, “Hello,” or “Good evening,” in response, never “Merry Christmas.”

“What items would those be?” “There are several,” Brady said, undeterred by their attitudes. He hadn’t expected this job to be easy, after all. “For example, the Christmas festivities. I haven’t been in town long, but my understanding is that Christmas used to be a special time here in Holiday Hills. Now, it seems to be more of an afterthought.”

Ava chatted about school with Darla Hale, Uncle Cole's daughter, and Jamie fought over the largest piece of roast venison with Declan Hale, Uncle Cole's son. The Christmas feast covered the entire table. Everything from the roast venison to the mulled wine and the gingerbread house was a reminder of the festive occasion, which celebrated the warmth of being with one's family. They raised their glasses, wishing each other a Merry Christmas. The smiles had already returned to every face. It was as if my disappearance had been nothing more than a small footnote of the night. I hovered by the table, watching them with a hollow feeling in my heart. I was already dead—frozen solid out in the sub-z

Christmas Eve arrived with a sky the color of old pearls and the kind of cold that made the snow crunch underfoot. The house on Maple Lane glowed from within — string lights on the porch, the tree lit in the living room window, and the smell of cinnamon and pine drifting through every room. Elias and I had spent the morning finishing small tasks: wrapping the last few gifts, setting the table for four, and making sure Amina’s favorite mug was clean and waiting on the counter.

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.

~Mia’s POV~ I couldn’t believe I was actually doing this. Standing in the middle of Westfield Mall dressed as a sexy elf—short green velvet dress, candy-cane striped stockings, little bell-tipped hat. This was not exactly how I’d pictured my first holiday break from college. But rent was due, my campus job had dried up, and the “Holiday Helper” gig paid stupidly well for smiling and posing with kids on Santa’s lap.

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.

Judy whispered, like she was afraid her joy might scare Malaya away. Malaya's smile was smaller this time—still shy, but real. "Merry Christmas, Grandma Judy." Judy's hand flew to her mouth. Tears spilled without permission. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart," she breathed. "Oh… thank you for calling me." Jerry leaned into view, impatience playful. "And what about me, huh?" Malaya giggled. "Merry Christmas, Pawpaw." Jerry's entire face lit up. "That's my girl!"