Sans Christmas Novels & Stories

Lowering myself to her level, I held her shoulders gently and brushed a strand of hair from her face. “No,” I said softly. “No, honey. You just had a nightmare. That’s all.” She didn’t look convinced. “Mummy has no reason to hurt Daddy,” I added quickly. “I’ll be back soon. And guess what? We’re spending Christmas here with Grandma and Uncle Elliot.” Her face lit up instantly. “Yeah.” “I’m just going to get a few things for Christmas,” I said. “I’ll be back.” I turned away before she could ask anything else.

Sable Christmas Eve settled over the clubhouse louder than any holiday had a right to. Someone had dragged in a cedar that looked like it had been bullied out of the desert and forced into seasonal participation, and now it stood in the corner of the common room sagging beneath mismatched ornaments, colored lights, and enough tinsel to qualify as a fire hazard. Bryce had declared the crooked angel on top “punk rock,” which earned him a threat from Hannah involving a serving spoon and his kneecaps. Charlie laughed so hard she nearly dropped a tray of cookies, and half the men in the room pretended they weren’t enjoying the whole thing as much as they were.

Just like that, I told him everything that was happening, excluding my one-night stand story. As predicted, he was furious. Just like Emily, he has never liked Josh for me. The call ended, but not without me letting him know not to let anyone know what happened. I quickly had my bath and changed into something more comfortable. Today is Christmas, and I will have a fun-filled evening. It dawned on me that I did not see any Christmas trees hanging around anywhere. Nothing feels like the season around here. Everywhere is quiet. I might as well shop for a Christmas tree with my best friend and light up the house.

When Noah Levine came back, Christmas had already passed. I'd thrown that reindeer lingerie into a street trash bin. "Babe, I left in such a rush last night that I forgot to give you your Christmas present." He pulled out a sapphire necklace and swept my hair aside to fasten it around my neck. Because he leaned in so close, I could clearly see the red marks on his neck and smell the sickly sweet perfume that obviously wasn't his. Knowing the scent belonged to my own sister made my stomach turn.

Arthur tells me. “What are your Christmas traditions?” Max asks; he’s finally back with us. “Ah, the Christmas spirit is designed for children. The joy of Christmas for adults is seeing the joy on the faces of the pack's pups. Every November, the adults come together to make an activity advent calendar for the pups. An example of this would be; on the 1st of the month, we decorate the pack land. On the 2nd, we hold our official secret Santa draw. On the 3rd, we write out our Christmas cards. On the 4th, we hold our Christmas fancy dress party, and we always put our Christmas trees up on the 13th. We include activities such as watching Christmas movies, Christmas cookie and cake baking, and a

But there, in the cold dawn, surrounded by pine trees, unlit lights, and a woman who arrived and turned everything upside down… I realize that maybe Christmas is doing something to me. Something dangerous. Something good. And maybe—just maybe—I don’t want to stop it.

Nicholas “Merry Christmas!” shouted a smiling street performer, handing out small candy canes. “No, thank you,” Nicholas Kerstman said, shaking his head as he walked past. “But it's Christmas time! Take one,” the performer urged. “Embrace the season.” Nicholas sighed. Why did Christmas have to come every year? “Sure. Why not?” Nicholas said with a shrug as he took the candy cane into his hand. When he thought the street performer couldn't see him, he threw the candy cane into the nearest trashcan.

2 Weeks Later Laila sat curled into the corner of her sofa, a soft cream-colored throw blanket draped across her lap as Laya leaned heavily against her side. The Christmas lights she hadn’t quite found the heart to take down yet glowed softly around the living room, casting warm gold and red reflections across the walls. The tree was gone, the ornaments packed away, but the lights remained—small reminders of a season that had changed more than just the calendar. Her phone, propped up against a candle on the coffee table, rang, vibrating slightly against the wood.

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.

"Listen you, I don't care what tricks you two have up your sleeves, it's not gonna work this year. It comes to mind that Elena is a Xmas freak, so I don't see her getting on a ship and going anywhere for the holidays. That means the lot of you are after something else; so you throw me a red herring to catch me out there with what it is that you really want." "Since you want to be a damn sneak, we're doing Xmas my way. It's too late for me to keep you from fuI mean mucking up Thanksgiving, because that's just around the corner, but this year everything will be done the way I want it for Xmas and who don't like that shit can stay the fu-hell in their own house." I glared at the pothead who was