#Naughty or # Nice (The Holidaze Book 1)

Chapter 1

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Published by Sandra Corton

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This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover Design by Marianne Nowicki

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Hi guys,

This is the Christmas story I promised you at the end of October. I do hope you enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing the few chapters I've got written.

When I was 11 I still believed in Santa. We were heading to our end of year school Christmas play, and just before we left I saw my mum wrapping something.  When I saw the same wrapping later on and the same present handed to me by Santa, reality dawned.

My sister is 5 years younger than me and as much as we fought, I didn't want her finding out the same way I did. We shared a bedroom with a bunk bed and I used to tell her fanciful stories about Santa around Christmas time. To this day she still remembers those stories.

In fact she's come up with some of the ideas for what Santa's Village looks like and what they might eat. So this book is dedicated to her, Karen Murphy. Love you girl!

P.S In case you miss it;  Cupid and the Match-o-Matic may just appear in another book that I'll write later down the track.

Chapter 1

Santa stared at the vision box with eager eyes and stroked his white beard thoughtfully. A group of gushing women, all fancily dressed, surrounded one man on the screen. Each woman desperately wanted a rose.

"You must stop watching that rubbish, dear," Martha Claus chided her husband with a deep sigh, as she bustled around the kitchen preparing dinner.

"It's a replay, love," Santa replied, although his deep blue eyes never left the screen.

"No matter what, that vision box isn't good for you."

Soft grey eyes watched her husband's fascination with disdain. Her silver hair coiffed around her face in an abundance of cheerfully neat curls. Beyond the wrinkled face, she was a rotund individual with great fortitude. Being married to Santa Claus certainly wasn't the easiest, especially when the season rolled around.

The door to the house burst open letting in a flurry of fine, powdery snow. In amongst the flakes, a figure rushed into the room, tossed its coat onto the rack with precision, and grinned broadly.

"Dad, I've got the answer! We'll get through next season with ease."

"Sander wipe your feet, and don't you dare trail any of that ice in here," Martha ordered.

"Sorry, Mum, but I worked it out!" Sander raised his arms above his his head and grinned.

"Excellent, darling," Martha smiled warmly at her son.