Twas The Night Before Christmas Novels & Stories

He poured a mug full, grabbed a granola bar and headed outside. Cold air hit his lungs; he pulled his coat tighter around his neck. His boots crunched on the frozen ground, and the scent of manure reached his nose. He and Carter had planned the holiday celebration for all the ranch hands. They'd chosen December twenty-second this year, right before the big rush.

Third POV Three years later. It was Christmas Eve, and the mansion was alive. The scent of cinnamon, roasted turkey, fresh bread, and pine needles danced in the air. Lights twinkled from every corner of the villa, and the large fir tree in the center of the living room was buried beneath glittering ornaments, plushy figurines, and wrapping papers messily tucked under its boughs. Miss Maria stood in the kitchen doorway with her arms crossed, surveying the house she had helped turn into a home. “This year better not end in a fire,” she muttered under her breath.

Eleven people total, more manageable than Thanksgiving but still significant. Charlotte was vibrating with excitement. “Santa comes TONIGHT! After we sleep! Presents TOMORROW!” “Yes, but first you have to actually sleep. Santa doesn’t come until children are sleeping.” “I’ll sleep SO FAST! The fastest sleeping EVER!” James was equally excited but less articulate. “Santa! Santa coming! PRESENTS!” Dinner was lovely Catherine’s traditional Christmas Eve menu, everyone together, children behaving reasonably well given excitement levels. After dinner, Charlotte insisted on reading “The Night Before Christmas” to the whole group.

Killian immediately shrugged out of his jacket and draped it around her shoulders, and she pulled it tight around herself, breathing in his scent. "I loved Christmas here," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It was—they made it so special. So magical. Mrs Morales would start decorating the day after Thanksgiving. She had made us all hot chocolate and put on Christmas music–Mary's Boy Child by Bonney M precisely, and we'd spend the whole day turning the house into something out of a Hallmark movie. And Mr Morales, he'd read us the Christmas story every single night in December, counting down until the actual day. And Daryl would—" She couldn't finish. "I hated the smell of Christmas

She plugged in the lights on her small tree in the front window, for the millionth time adjusting the decorations, many of which came from her childhood tree. A glance out the window told her that snow was still peppering down. A massive storm had hit the northeast the day before, dumping the white stuff in feet rather than inches. Thankfully, Casey and John were safely ensconced in their hotel room, having taken the train into the city the day before the storm hit. Most transportation had been shut down since early Christmas Eve.

I went home to rest. The next day, I went in as usual and found the staff busier than normal. There were extra people cleaning and trucks of fresh feed arriving, making the animals restless. Zane must’ve gotten scared. To keep things peaceful over Christmas, he’d finally scraped together some money and splurged a little for the animals.

But to my surprise, when Gram had called me downstairs on Christmas morning-I always spent the night with them on Christmas Eve so that we could enjoy breakfast and gifts together the next day-I walked down the steps into the same holiday wonderland that had greeted me every December twenty-fifth of my life. "How did you do this?" I stood alongside the tree, my hands on my hips, staring at the beautifully wrapped presents. "What do you mean? I didn't do a thing." Gram pressed her hand to her chest. "This is all the work of old St. Nick. He came down the chimney while you were sleeping. Somehow, you must have bamboozled him into thinking you were a good boy this year, because look at all thes

He really doesn't have a filter in his mouth. ... I hang the last green stockings for the day, over the chimney. Christmas is tomorrow and I'm in a really good mood. Scott and I have being doing this big preparation because we plan to house everyone tomorrow night for the celebrating. But the eve, is just for me and Scott to spend some time together.

Jenna and Oliver dozed off together, her head on his chest, his hand absentmindedly stroking her arm. The room felt like safety. Home. At some point, I must’ve fallen asleep, tucked against Blaise’s heartbeat, Storm tucked against mine — because the next thing I heard was Beth whispering loudly: “Just come in — they’re all out.” Blaise shifted, blinking awake. I sat up, rubbing my eyes. And then— Santa stepped into our den. Full suit. Boots. The big red bag slung over his shoulder. Behind him, in a green velvet dress and holly in her hair, stood Mrs. Claus.

he whispered. She blinked and realized she had been resting against him. She sat up quickly, yawning. Outside the window, bushes stretched ahead, and the bus had come to a full stop. Mr. Jacob’s whistle pierced the air again. Camp had officially begun.