Storytelling Santa Novels & Stories

his mother scolded him. "Oooh, Surprise. We are going out the country Tomorrow, so park your clothes when we reach home"He announced to nafisa . "To....."before Nafisa completed it , he stopped her mid way . "I said it is going to be a surprise"He grinned more. They left the house because nafisa needs to park her things. "Babe, are we staying long "She asked. "Maybe "came his reply.

She stares at each and everyone here that has been a part of her life while growing up. She might have felt like she has been forgotten by the fairy world for a while back then, but spending her time in the human world is something she would never trade even if she is a Princess in her own fairy realm. After dinner, everyone settle at the sofa and exchange gifts. They sip warm chocolate once more as each one shares their story about Christmas. Caspian and Bran enjoy listening to these stories of the holiday most especially about Santa and his elves. Later in the evening, the parents of Jo excuse themselves to leave but as usual, Jo stays behind.

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” I force myself to shake my head, heat creeping up my cheeks. “No, I just…” I stammer, suddenly forgetting how words work. “What do you mean, ask Santa? Who is Santa?” He chuckles, the sound deep “Santa,” he says, his grin widening, “is an Alpha who can get you anything you want. You know… just like this dress you’re wearing.”

“I was a good boy, wasn’t I?” Struggling to find the right words, I nodded and cradled Carl in my arms. “Yes, of course. You were a good boy. A very good boy. The best boy.” “Then where’s Daddy?” My heart squeezed for the poor boy. He’d actually believed that Santa could bring Luigi back to us. “Well,” I said. “Santa can’t actually bring people. He can only bring things. Things that he can make in his workshop.” “Oh,” Carl said. I released him and knelt down in front of him.

“Nah, I think I might be a bit too old for Santa.” “Oh, you’re never too old for Santa! Come sit… and tell me everything you want,” he insists, taking my hand and gently pulling me closer until I’m perched on his strong leg. “So, Santa, I’ve been a really good girl this year,” I tell him, slipping an arm around his neck for balance. He chuckles softly, one arm wrapping around my waist while the other rests on my thigh. “I’m sure you’ve been very nice, so you probably deserve anything your heart desires.”

Nox asked, "why are you worried about Santa?" She pointed out the large windows. "Because the man on TV said the snow is coming. He said lots and lots. He said no driving. What about Santa?" "Child," Jane said, "I told you, Santa flies a sleigh. Snow's a Christmas miracle." I leaned closer. "Jane's right." I glanced at her smiling brown eyes, winked, and looked back to my daughter. "She always is. Santa's sleigh flies better in snow."

"A lot happened yesterday, which was why I couldn’t keep my promise. I’m so sorry I couldn’t put you to sleep last night." "I know you must have been busy, Miss Kathleen, and I'm not mad at you. Now if you'll excuse us, Chef Koko was reading me a story and I was enjoying it a lot." My mouth fell open in horror as I watched the five year old, little brat act exactly like my mother when she was mad. Okay…when did the two of them meet and swap souls? "The story is about Santa Claus and his deer. I wanted you to read the story for me, but Chef Koko saw me sitting here all alone, and offered to do it instead."

"He does. Buying presents is something he does because he wants to. Also, the original Santa Claus story was difficult to make him believe since I could never find the right time to slip presents under the Christmas tree." "What story does he know?" I asked as I cracked some eggs and began to fry them. "That Santa gives us money to buy gifts for others." "For someone who's mind is always working, you're not that creative." He glared at me and I laughed. We quickly made breakfast and by the time that we were serving the table, Audrey joined Isaac on the couch. After greetings and small talk, we began to eat and I couldn't help but notice the impatient glances that Isaac gave the Christmas tre

he mutters, rubbing his neck, “about that...” “Eh!” I shout, not wanting to turn his emotions into something sour, “I know all about your troubles, Santa.” I wiggle my nose, “I know the North Pole has been especially cold this year, and Santa's had to be very frugal this Christmas.” He nods, “I'm glad you understand.” I shake my head. “That doesn't mean Santa gets off scot-free.” He puffs out his chest, putting on his best deep Santa voice, “What can