Not So Saint Nick Novels & Stories

It felt like he had been starving for six months, and dinner had just walked through the front door. "I didn't think you would come," he said. He wasn't talking to Chloe. Chloe pulled back, oblivious. "I told you I would convince her, Maya hates Christmas, but I told her this year would be different." Silas slowly disentangled himself from his daughter. He walked toward me. Every step was planned. The heavy boots he wore made no sound on the tiles. He moved like a wolf stalking a wounded rabbit. I fought the urge to step back. I wouldn't let him see me tremble. I was an adult.

I asked confused at to why he could not over the phone "I really have to spell everything out for you Well before he can give me any information he will want something from me in return He is not Santa you know It like he will rub my back if I rub his Tit for tat something like that" he strangely explained but I was able to understand most of it "Oh okay Then i will come with with you, to give him whatever he needs and we can finally solve this mystery" I said "Not happening Vee Who would be with Sophie and I got this covered, This is not my first run with these guys I know how to handled them And don't even think of arguing with me about this" he said before I could get a word out

As a chain dangles around his neck. A smile is stretched across his face as he stops in his tracks just a few feet away from me. "Now, I would greet you like a gentleman but you're a germaphobe." he says, darting his tongue out to lick his lips before he takes a sip of the auburn liquor. Ignoring him, I turn my gaze back to Saint. "Why is he here?" I questioned. Saint leans onto the counter, folding his arms as his muscles flex, his visible veins trailing up his whole arms. "I called him." he simply says. I frown. "Why?"

But tonight, exhaustion mixed with a restless heat low in her belly, making her shift uncomfortably. "Dory, still at it? The reindeer need their rest, and so do you." Santa's voice boomed from the doorway, warm and gravelly, like a hearth fire. At 50-something in appearance but timeless in spirit, Nicholas Claus filled the frame, broad-shouldered, belly rounded from centuries of cookies, his white beard trimmed neat, eyes twinkling with that knowing glint. He wasn't the jolly myth; he was real, weary from the endless rush, shoulders carrying the weight of a world's wishes.

“This is completely unfair.” “You didn’t get the hint?” Nic asks, sarcastic. “Considering it’s called the Deadlands? And you’re alive?” “No, Nic, I didn’t,” I bite back, narrowing my eyes. “And just in case you ever make the same mistake when you’re planning a trip to Not-a-Jackass-Ville, you’re not invited.” Anton barks out a sharp laugh and then slaps a hand over his mouth, turning away, his shoulders shaking. Nic just glowers at me, not thinking it’s nearly as funny.

Or a little more. Reese snorted and let the smoke out of his mouth. “Nick has no female friends. What do you think the reason is? " "Maybe I'll be the first to be different." He shook his head in disbelief. “God Shanks, how stupid are you? Nick plays with the women. If he gets bored with one, he moves on to the next. That’s exactly what he’ll do with you and I’m not in the mood to put your grief on me afterwards. "

He said, "You sound sentimental. It's like the last time you spoke to Alicia. Do you have a problem with me?" "Hahaha, no. I'm just tired. I wanted to visit my niece for Christmas, but I'm stuck with this asshole killer who kills people regardless of... whether it's Christmas or not," Noel said, speaking fast without pausing. Noel leaned his back against the top of the chair then looked around, "looks like everyone is going to have a nice Christmas, Nick."

Bitterness crept up my throat, but now it was too late to leave. If Nicolas de Sanctis has the worst reputation of any man I've ever met. The man who was walking towards me with his cute smile was the complete opposite. He is handsome in a gentle way. I could see that everything inside him was not just a facade. He is himself. The man with his word. A gentleman, even though Nicholas de Sanctis's good looks and physique still excelled, his charm was not inferior.

I wasn’t gone that long. “Aw that sounds like fun, can we come?” Saint says as the other two guys look at him as if he had lost his mind. Realising he sounded lame, Saint rubs the back of his neck as he looks down trying to cover the red tint that now coats his handsome face; Focus Bell! “Only if we can practice on you?” My sister says with that wicked glint in her eyes, I look at her poking my eyes out at her, but in true Denu style she just shrugs.

By the time Margaret and her mom left for the airport, Lauren learnt two things: Sophie had enough energy to power an entire city, and she clearly wasn’t thrilled about her temporary babysitter. “Why don’t you like Christmas?” Sophie asked, sitting cross-legged on the couch as Lauren sifted through her phone. “Don’t you have cartoons to watch?” Lauren replied, avoiding the question. Sophie ignored her. “Is it because you don’t have a tree?” “Something like that.” “That’s weird,” Sophie said. “Everyone likes Christmas.” “Not everyone,” Lauren muttered. Sophie tilted her head. “Did Santa forget you or something?” Lauren sighed. “Look, kid, I’m not a big fan of Santa actually so maybe? Let’s ju