Short Christmas Stories Novels & Stories

‘I am not a baby anymore, Mama. The pale yellow light which comes from the moon lamp makes me see Mallory’s face in the dark room. She has small eyes with bigger and darker eyeballs, similar to a doll. Her face is round and a little chubby. And she has a flat nose and thin pink pair of lips. ‘Close your eyes pretty Mallory, I’ll tell you a story.’ I said and lightly pinch her small nose. ‘Once upon a time there were two children named Hansel and Gretel. Their stepmother abandoned them in the forest. But Hansel is a smart kid, he drops pebbles on the ground on their way to the forest…’

As the stories got scarier, I noticed a few of the younger pack members huddling closer to their parents, seeking comfort and reassurance. Soon, it was my turn to share a story. Feeling the weight of the moment, I cleared my throat and began my tale. "In a small village, there was a haunted mansion. It was said that the spirit of a vengeful witch roamed the halls, seeking revenge on anyone who dared to enter her domain..." I let my imagination run wild, conjuring spine-chilling scenes and mysterious characters. The pack leaned in closer, their eyes wide with fascination, hanging onto every word I spoke. The suspenseful atmosphere made my heart race with excitement.

Ten-year-old Bree chimed as Emma looked over her shoulder worriedly. “That’s nice, sweetie. Why don’t you tell me about that mermaid story again?” “I hate that story. Can I tell the one about the wolf?” Bran chimed in. “Wolf?” Patrick asked as Brinna looked out the window and saw another animal running alongside their vehicle. “Yeah, the one that eats the girl in the red hood.” “Mommy, I don’t like that story. It is scary.” Bree snuck at the rolling landscape and saw the scary animal with sharp teeth sneering at her, so she pretended to look forward and saw her parents exchange a look.

The End" She said as she smiled at her son whom still looked at her, expecting her to continue with the story. "But Mama this story does not really interest me this night. I have heard alot of stories about Santa. Please tell me something different?" "Fine! I will. But promise me that after this it will be over?" "If I like it Mama" he responded. " Ok then, I will call this story THE LITTLEST ELF"

Help. Hey everyone, I need help. Two days ago, my five-year-old sister said she saw Santa Claus in our house, but her description doesn't match the traditional image at all. She said this "Santa" had long, spider-like fingers, too many joints, crawled like a four-legged animal, and after climbing out of our chimney, it just stood silently in the corner of our living room, watching us for an hour. Most importantly, when I asked if this "Santa" had a gift sack, she said no. Just a lumpy, wrinkled, moving sack on its back.

I hated his guts for betraying me, but I couldn't find it in me to throw those letters away, so I kept them. We had this ritual where we'd write a letter to Santa asking for a gift. Of course we knew Santa wasn't real, but it was our thing. We'd sneak off when the other wasn't looking and check each other's letters and surprise each other with whatever we'd asked for. “I was right, Mommy, it is him,” Lucien said, looking from the photograph in his hand and back up to Ryan, before stopping at the last step as he stared at the picture and then at Ryan, who was now staring back at Lucien. He rushed to stand in front of Ryan, tilting his head back as he looked at the tall man, before raising his

They had dived into their favorite topic of discussion, their boyfriends. “Gideon is sooo good! He literally makes me come every time, every fucking time” Lauren said, fanning herself. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Here we go again. “Me too!!!!” Helen giggled, eyes wide with excitement. “Brian does this thing with his tongue, and, oh my God, my eyes roll! I literally have to beg him to stop” They yapped none stop for hours. Who was better in bed. Who had a bigger dick. Who was freakier, Who ate pussy better. It was getting damn annoying because , my lovely boyfriend, was shit.

Chapter 1 The bookstore smelled like fresh coffee and old paper, the way it always did on event nights. Elena Reyes stood at the front of the packed reading room, microphone in hand, watching twenty kids and their parents lean forward as she finished the last chapter of the bedtime story. Laughter rippled through the crowd. A little girl in the front row clapped so hard her pigtails bounced. Then her phone buzzed on the podium. Once. Twice. Three times. She ignored it until the applause died down. Only then did she glance at the screen.

Reaching out, she gave one of the girl’s pigtails a tug. “I promise, there will be lots of trees when we get into town. But remember, we’re getting a little one this year, okay?” Because of the Grinch and his aversion to all things festive. “I know! It’s like a fairy tree because it’s tiny and can go on a table to put in our room because Kaleb doesn’t like Christmas.” Her head tipped to one side. “How come he doesn’t, Mommy? Everybody likes presents. And Santa… And the reindeers, and Christmas trees filled with lights and all the merry stuff… How come, Mommy?”

, the little princess asks with tears in her eyes, clenching her fists, Did they? - No, the cat laughed. That night, just before dawn, when she was exhausted from crying, Petrunia fell asleep, she dreamt a strange dream in which she was told by a large, beautiful fairy (you guessed it was the same fairy that pretended to be small) to make a cake in which she would to pour all her selfless kindness and to give the king and queen a try, so they will see.