Hold My Hand, It’s Christmas has about as much angst as a perfectly prepared picnic—one you didn’t have to plan—in the most idyllic location your imagination can come up with. You’re there with the man/woman of your dreams, and they are everything you ever hoped they’d be. There is absolutely no tension, miscommunication, or misunderstandings between Eli and Noah. They both experience a little self-doubt, but I don’t think there’s a single human being alive who doesn’t have a twinge or two of self-doubt when first meeting someone. I refuse to call that angst, especially since neither of them lets it keep the completely besotted looks off their faces when they glance at each other. This is the most angst-free romance book I’ve ever read, and because it’s a Christmas book, I’m absolutely here for it.
This was instalove on steroids, a trope that—when done wrong—can leave you with incredulous thoughts floating through your mind as you read the most ridiculous nonsense ever put on paper. But when done right, when written by an author who knows exactly what they’re doing, it feels like a perfect spring day, lying on the fluffiest blanket ever woven, stretched out beneath an old apple tree. The branches form a canopy that blocks just the right amount of sunshine as you stare up at puffy white clouds, picking out the ones that look like bunny rabbits and puppies. In other words, when instalove is written right, it leaves you with the happiest feeling in the world, and you buy into every single word and glance the two MCs exchange. Hold My Hand, It’s Christmas is a perfect example of this, a story that leaves you believing in love at first sight, soul mates, and the magic of Christmas.