Holiday Hoax by Maggie Cole
408 pages • ⭐️⭐️⭐️ • 🌶️🌶️
Fake marriages are such a flawless idea, right? No consequences, no emotional chaos, nobody catching feelings or getting caught in the lie. It’s practically an HR-approved life hack. 🙃
This one is classic spicy Hallmark:
- Grumpy billionaire MMC + sunshine FMC
- Fake marriage to appease the family
- Single bed, forced proximity, big city girl in a small town Christmas terrarium.
Is it original? Not remotely. Is it comforting? Absolutely. You can practically set your watch by the third-act breakup and the “if we just had one honest conversation this book would be 200 pages shorter” miscommunication. If people in romance novels went to therapy and used “I” statements, half the genre would collapse overnight.
Sebastien Cartwright is your standard cold, hyper-structured billionaire with four failed engagements and the emotional range of a colorless spreadsheet. Daddy has decreed that if he doesn’t show up at the family ranch for December, big bro gets the CEO crown. Rich people succession crises are truly the silliest of high stakes.
Enter Georgia Peach. Yes, that is her actual name and yes, she is exactly what you think. She is weaponized sunshine with a mixing bowl, baking cupcakes that practically come with healing crystals baked in. Sebastien allegedly can’t stand her, except for the part where he definitely wants to rail her six ways from Sunday.
So he offers her a deal: pretend to be his wife for the month of December at the family ranch for a casual one million dollars. She says yes, after negotiating up from a mere $100k with the hot emotionally constipated billionaire. (tension foreshadowing? Yes, yes it is)
From there, everything unfolds exactly how you think it will. Feelings. Longing. Spice. Family chaos. The inevitable third-act breakup that feels less like drama and more like the author pulling the emergency brake because “we need conflict here.” I am so tired of third-act breakups that exist purely because no one can say, “Hey, can we talk about this like grown adults?”
The banter is… fine. Not scream-laugh funny, but there were several moments that made me smile. The characters lean hard into stereotype territory, which makes them easy to consume but hard to truly believe. It’s candy, not a meal.
Could this have been a novella? Yes. Did it need 408 pages? Absolutely not. But if you’re in the mood for a predictable, cozy, spicy holiday comfort read where you know exactly what you’re getting and you’re not asking for great literature, this will scratch that “spicy Hallmark” itch nicely.
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