Here's another snippet from one of my Christmas stories, The Misadventures of Dick Grewcock: A Vampire's First Christmas:
He lifted the bottle to his lips and tossed back the rest of the warm red elixir spiked with a hint of cinnamon. Christ Almighty! Who made the nasty stuff? The fizzy bubbles tickled all the way down his gut. Peppermint laced in the blood soda would have been more tolerable. He glanced at his watch. Five minutes until ten, plenty of time to take the elevator to the top floor for the meeting. A moment later he slammed the empty bottle on the table, grabbed his leather jacket from the chair beside him, and stood to leave the boring, weird-ass party. Just as he reached the door, he stopped abruptly when the revelers struck up a chorus of Jingle Bells. Dick shook his head. Vamps singing Karaoke Christmas songs? What kind of messed up shit is that?