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Marie reviews the book and really enjoyed the story.
About the Book
Trading places and vacations might just be the Christmas miracle these two best friends need
“The Holiday meets The Unhoneymooners in this friends-swapping-places romance that has it all: mistletoe and make-outs, plus sun, sand, and swoon!”—Chantel Guertin, author of It Happened One Christmas
Holly Beech and Ivy Casey are bury-the-body besties. They’re so in sync, they even look alike. When Holly’s fiancé jilts her, leaving her in shock and with a nonrefundable honeymoon, Holly convinces Ivy to switch places. Ivy will go on the Hawaiian honeymoon her best friend can’t bear to take alone, while Holly escapes to Ivy’s rented Hudson Valley cabin to binge-watch holiday movies and heal.
But Holly’s wallowing is interrupted when her rugged Airbnb host turns out to be her high school academic rival who’s had a major glow-up. Meanwhile, Ivy’s (now Hawaiian) annual solo art retreat is upended when Holly’s ex-fiancé checks into the honeymoon suite—with a new woman. Raging and bed-less, the last thing Ivy expects is for the hot hotel bartender to come to her rescue. Against all odds, this Christmas might prove the most magical yet.
Excerpt
1
Ivy
December 16, 2024 New York City
And that's when I knew we were going to be friends forever," Holly says, holding up a glass of Sancerre to toast Ivy, her maid of honor. Ivy thinks her friend looks so happy and gorgeous, standing there at the head of the table in the holly-leaf-green dress they found on sale at Saks. The same shopping trip Ivy had discovered the perfect cranberry-hued jumpsuit on a clearance rack. They had laughed at the absurdity of it: two people who were ambivalent about Christmas dressing in coordinating holiday outfits.
Ivy feels emotion gathering like a glowing ball of stardust in her sternum. Holly looks so hopeful and expectant, standing there with her glass raised. Ivy feels the urge to make the biggest wish possible with all that stardust inside her, a wish that her friend will have the charmed life she deserves, the one she's always wanted, the one she's been planning for the past decade.
"I already had my soulmate in Matt," Holly continues-and now Ivy has to fight to keep the supportive, well-wishing smile on her face. To her, Holly has no flaws-at least none that are deal-breaking and friendship-ending; Ivy knows no one is actually perfect-but she has never been able to grasp what Holly sees in Matt. This is the one secret she has kept from her best friend since deciding the first night they met that radical honesty was going to be their policy. It's kind of a big one, though. Considering the ways in which disliking your best friend's partner might cause more and more complications over the years makes the ball of starry joy in Ivy's chest morph and twist as it slinks its way down to the pit of her stomach. "And after the night I met you," Holly is saying, "I had a soulmate best friend, too. How lucky can one person be? Thank you for always being there for me, Ivy, through the planning of this wedding, and literally everything else for the past eight years. I can't imagine my life withou-"
"To Matt and Holly!" Holly's mother, Barbara, cries, jumping from her seat and cutting her daughter short. "Cheers, cheers, santé-or should I say San-ta! To the happy couple and their Christmas wedding!" There's a shocked beat of silence as the guests process the fact that the mother of the bride has interrupted her daughter's rehearsal dinner speech like she's orchestra music and Holly is Matthew McConaughey at the 2014 Oscars. Ivy keeps a big smile pasted on her face, but the nerves in her stomach start doing a wild dance. She has always felt protective of Holly, but at moments like this she feels helpless to protect her. Then Holly's brother, Ted, seated to Ivy's left, nudges her gently. "Typical Barbara power move," he says out of the corner of his mouth. "You know she's just jealous that you've always been there for Holly in a way she's never allowed herself to." Ted's wife, Mingzhu, shoots Ivy a sympathetic, knowing smile, and Ivy is reminded that Holly does, in fact, have some excellent people in her corner. She manages to lift her glass and toast along with everyone else at the table, while forcing herself to believe that a happy ending for Holly really is possible.
Except Holly is now banging a knife on her wineglass and looking a little mad. The dissonant sound quiets the guests around the large harvest table at Cote. "No, no, wait," she says determinedly. "I'm not finished. I'm the bride, everyone has to do what I say for the next twenty-four hours, at least."
"Cheers to that!" Ivy calls out.
"Ivy," Holly says firmly, "planning the most festive, most Christmassy wedding possible with you at my side has been a dream come true and so much fun." She holds her friend's gaze for a moment, her eyes dancing. Ivy knows what she's really saying. It should have been torture, but eventually the shock wore off that Holly had agreed to get married at Christmas. Her reasoning had been that if she went along with the December date Matt and her mother were pushing, she'd be able to have a holiday season honeymoon and spend Christmas in Hawaii with her new husband, thus managing to forgo all the Beech family Christmas parties and events she always finds so disappointing. Plus, she would get home from the honeymoon in time for New Year's Eve with her bestie, meaning this wedding date offered the best of all worlds. After that, Ivy threw herself into helping to plan a festive wedding with joyful, somewhat ironic abandon. A mini mince pie and mulled wine cocktail hour while a gospel choir sang Christmas carols? Check. Secret Santa wedding favors that guests could fight over? Yes. Hiring an actor to make a surprise Santa visit at midnight? Happening. Filling the venue-Lotte New York Palace-with bauble-strung Christmas trees? You know it. Hiring two acrobats to perform in a giant thirteen-foot snow globe, glitter falling constantly over the pair as they put on a showstopping routine? Okay, so Holly and Ivy couldn't make that one happen, but all Holly had to do was whisper the words "giant snow globe" and they'd both start laughing uncontrollably.
"I'm so grateful for you, Ivy," Holly says. "And I know that you, like Matt, are going to be in my life forever." Now her eyes shine with tears. "I couldn't imagine my life without you, Ivy. Thanks for everything." Once this round of glass clinking is over, Holly turns to Matt, who is sitting to her right. But he's fidgeting with his dessert fork and there's a sheen of sweat on his forehead. Ivy wonders if he's still hungover from his bachelor party a few nights earlier, when, she happens to know, he ended up naked at the top of the Empire State Building. He's such a schmuck, Ivy can't help but think. Except Holly is staring down at her sweaty, uncomfortable-looking fiancé like he's the Mona Lisa and she's just arrived in Paris for the first time and rushed straight to the Louvre. "Matt, tomorrow is the day we've dreamed about practically since the moment we met-when we just . . ." She places a hand on her heart, and her berry-red nails shine in the candlelight. "We knew. We gazed at each other over that mud pit and we knew. I'm so excited to become Mrs. Carter. Well, I'm not going to take your name, but I'll be Mrs. Carter in my heart, okay? I'm so excited to spend the rest of our lives together, starting tomorrow. I love you." She looks down at him expectantly, clearly waiting for him to stand and join her, lift his own glass, make his own speech-but Matt just keeps flipping his fork over on top of the tablecloth like it's a competitive sport. As the awkward silence stretches, he finally looks up at Holly. He looks startled, as if he just noticed her there.
"Oh. Thanks. That was really nice. Um, I . . ." He clears his throat, loosens his tie as if it's suddenly choking him. "Right. Yeah. Shit. I'm supposed to make a speech tonight, too." He stands and grips the back of his seat. Ivy can't help but notice his knuckles have gone white. Across the table, D'Arcy, still his best friend, looks sweaty and uncomfortable, too. But when he sees Ivy looking at him, he shoots her a suggestive eyebrow waggle. Although they only dated for a few weeks eight years ago, and the best thing about their relationship was that it led Ivy to Holly, D'Arcy still goes around telling anyone who will listen that Ivy is his ex. After a few drinks, he also says she's "the one who got away"-and "an absolute minx in the sack." Ivy looks away from him, fights hard to get back that sense of happy hopefulness for her friend. Meanwhile, Matt is still clearing his throat and fiddling with his tie.
"Mom, Dad, thank you for planning this dinner." His parents beam at him proudly. "It was great. Eight courses, all meat or meat-adjacent. My dream meal." Ivy, meanwhile, being the only vegetarian in attendance, got six courses of green salad and one very sad stuffed pepper. Even the dessert contained gelatin, and she'd had to leave it untouched. "And Ed and Barb, thank you for . . . well, you know, everything. You've been so great." His voice wobbles, and Ivy is surprised by the sudden show of emotion. He's acting weird, even for Matt. He dashes at a tear with a clenched fist, holds up his glass, says "Cheers, I love you all!" in a wobbling voice. The table clinks glasses again, and no one seems to notice that Matt's glass is empty-and that he didn't even address his bride-to-be. No one except Ivy. She sees it all and feels sick to her stomach.
“Uh-oh, I’m a bit tipsy,” Holly says as they get in the back of the town car that will take them to Ivy’s apartment. “My face will be all puffy tomorrow for my wedding.”
"Please-you could drink all night and walk down the aisle in flannel pajamas, and you'd still be the most beautiful bride in the world."
"Aw, Ivy." Holly leans her head against her friend's shoulder and Ivy pats her hair. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Back at ya," Ivy says.
"We're going to be friends for life."
"I know we are." And Ivy does. She knows married life is going to change things, but also that they can survive it. When Holly went to Yale for law school and Ivy stayed in New York City to start a grueling internship at the ad firm where she's now a senior graphic designer, they sometimes went weeks without seeing each other-but never let it go longer than a month before one of them would take the train either into the city or to New Haven for a girls' weekend.
Holly leans forward and looks at the clock on the dash of the town car. "Forty-five more minutes until midnight, and then the day will be here. My wedding day."
"The countdown is on. Less than sixteen more single-girl hours for you."
"What's the plan for the rest of the evening?"
"Sheet masks and a movie."
"Perfect. Which movie?"
"It's a surprise. And I agonized. I mean, just one movie and not an entire marathon? Tough to pick just one. But I did it. I found the most romantic, but also the weirdest, but also one of our most favorite movies of all time-"
"Meet Joe Black!"
Ivy laughs. "You guessed it. For movie snacks, I have collagen water, this Aztec chocolate that's supposed to make your skin look like a newborn baby's, and maybe the smallest, tiniest bit of top-shelf tequila-because everyone knows you don't get a hangover with the good stuff. And a bubble bath for you, and then . . . one last sleep before you're officially a married lady!"
"Married lady," Holly repeats. Then she sighs. "I'm not going to turn into my mother, am I?"
"Holly, I promise, there is zero chance of that."
"I'm sorry she was so rude tonight. It's not that she doesn't like you . . ."
"It's just that she hates me," Ivy finishes. "And that's fine. Really, Hol. You know I'm not sensitive about it. She wishes you two had the relationship we do-"
"And we can't because she's such an asshole all the time."
Ivy snort-laughs. "That is exactly why."
"One day, it will be you getting married," Holly says. "And I can only hope I'm half the maid of honor you are."
"Maybe," Ivy says.
"Maybe I'll be half the maid of honor you are?"
"Oh, God, no, you'll totally nail it the way you nail everything. You'll leave me in your dust. Just, you might never get the chance."
"It's going to happen. One day, you'll find love that makes you levitate . . . dance like a dervish . . ."
"Screw like a horny titmouse?"
"The full package. Horny titmice and everything."
The car arrives at Ivy's Greenwich Village apartment building. "I'm so glad I can be myself with you," Holly says as they tumble out of the car and link arms.
"I'm glad I can, too, and that you love me for it." Ivy is generally herself with everyone, and sometimes not everyone's cup of tea. But with Holly, she doesn't have to worry about being considered abrupt, or offbeat, or too honest, or too frank about sex. Holly likes her just the way she is. And, Ivy can't help but think, shouldn't that be the case in Holly's life, too? Weren't you supposed to be yourself with the person you were marrying?
"Hey, you okay?" Holly asks as they stand, waiting for the elevator.
"I'm great."
"It'll happen," Holly says, misinterpreting her friend's morose expression. "He's out there somewhere right now, just waiting to meet you. I wonder where he is."
Ivy unlocks the door to her apartment, and they step inside as Holly keeps talking, her voice dreamy. "He could be anywhere. In this city or . . . maybe a dude ranch in Montana . . ."
"Now there's an idea. I've never slept with a cowboy, maybe I need to?"
"Not sleep with, marry," Holly corrects, following Ivy into her tiny galley kitchen, where Ivy pours pints of water from the tap, and tequila from a blue-and-white ceramic bottle. They head into the living room, where she's set up the coffee table with makeup remover, cotton pads, sheet masks, and snacks. She cues up the movie as Holly starts removing her eye makeup.
Once she's done, she sips her tequila. "So good," she says.
"Only the best for the bride-to-be."
"I love that we both drink good booze. I've never seen the point of drinking just to get drunk."
"Al-though, every once in a while, getting lightly buttered-"
"Gently toasted."
"One and a half sheets to the wind."
"-is really a lot of fun. And as you said, this chocolate is going to reverse-age me-"
"Plus, you're already perfect-"
"These sheet masks are going to restore and rejuvenate me, and despite the drinking, I'll look fine tomorrow."
"Better than fine, Holly. You're going to be the most beautiful bride in the world. With the best heart. Also, the smartest."
"Thanks, friend. Movie time?"
Ivy hits play, and the moment Brad Pitt gets randomly walloped by a car while crossing the street, Holly dissolves into laughter and they rewind and replay it, the way they always do. "I'm so sorry," she says, trying to catch her breath. "I know it's not supposed to be funny, but . . ." Pitt flies through the air again, and she buries her face in a throw pillow that comes away damp from her tears of mirth.
Excerpted from The Holiday Honeymoon Switch by Julia McKay. Copyright © 2024 by Julia McKay. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Ivy
December 16, 2024 New York City
And that's when I knew we were going to be friends forever," Holly says, holding up a glass of Sancerre to toast Ivy, her maid of honor. Ivy thinks her friend looks so happy and gorgeous, standing there at the head of the table in the holly-leaf-green dress they found on sale at Saks. The same shopping trip Ivy had discovered the perfect cranberry-hued jumpsuit on a clearance rack. They had laughed at the absurdity of it: two people who were ambivalent about Christmas dressing in coordinating holiday outfits.
Ivy feels emotion gathering like a glowing ball of stardust in her sternum. Holly looks so hopeful and expectant, standing there with her glass raised. Ivy feels the urge to make the biggest wish possible with all that stardust inside her, a wish that her friend will have the charmed life she deserves, the one she's always wanted, the one she's been planning for the past decade.
"I already had my soulmate in Matt," Holly continues-and now Ivy has to fight to keep the supportive, well-wishing smile on her face. To her, Holly has no flaws-at least none that are deal-breaking and friendship-ending; Ivy knows no one is actually perfect-but she has never been able to grasp what Holly sees in Matt. This is the one secret she has kept from her best friend since deciding the first night they met that radical honesty was going to be their policy. It's kind of a big one, though. Considering the ways in which disliking your best friend's partner might cause more and more complications over the years makes the ball of starry joy in Ivy's chest morph and twist as it slinks its way down to the pit of her stomach. "And after the night I met you," Holly is saying, "I had a soulmate best friend, too. How lucky can one person be? Thank you for always being there for me, Ivy, through the planning of this wedding, and literally everything else for the past eight years. I can't imagine my life withou-"
"To Matt and Holly!" Holly's mother, Barbara, cries, jumping from her seat and cutting her daughter short. "Cheers, cheers, santé-or should I say San-ta! To the happy couple and their Christmas wedding!" There's a shocked beat of silence as the guests process the fact that the mother of the bride has interrupted her daughter's rehearsal dinner speech like she's orchestra music and Holly is Matthew McConaughey at the 2014 Oscars. Ivy keeps a big smile pasted on her face, but the nerves in her stomach start doing a wild dance. She has always felt protective of Holly, but at moments like this she feels helpless to protect her. Then Holly's brother, Ted, seated to Ivy's left, nudges her gently. "Typical Barbara power move," he says out of the corner of his mouth. "You know she's just jealous that you've always been there for Holly in a way she's never allowed herself to." Ted's wife, Mingzhu, shoots Ivy a sympathetic, knowing smile, and Ivy is reminded that Holly does, in fact, have some excellent people in her corner. She manages to lift her glass and toast along with everyone else at the table, while forcing herself to believe that a happy ending for Holly really is possible.
Except Holly is now banging a knife on her wineglass and looking a little mad. The dissonant sound quiets the guests around the large harvest table at Cote. "No, no, wait," she says determinedly. "I'm not finished. I'm the bride, everyone has to do what I say for the next twenty-four hours, at least."
"Cheers to that!" Ivy calls out.
"Ivy," Holly says firmly, "planning the most festive, most Christmassy wedding possible with you at my side has been a dream come true and so much fun." She holds her friend's gaze for a moment, her eyes dancing. Ivy knows what she's really saying. It should have been torture, but eventually the shock wore off that Holly had agreed to get married at Christmas. Her reasoning had been that if she went along with the December date Matt and her mother were pushing, she'd be able to have a holiday season honeymoon and spend Christmas in Hawaii with her new husband, thus managing to forgo all the Beech family Christmas parties and events she always finds so disappointing. Plus, she would get home from the honeymoon in time for New Year's Eve with her bestie, meaning this wedding date offered the best of all worlds. After that, Ivy threw herself into helping to plan a festive wedding with joyful, somewhat ironic abandon. A mini mince pie and mulled wine cocktail hour while a gospel choir sang Christmas carols? Check. Secret Santa wedding favors that guests could fight over? Yes. Hiring an actor to make a surprise Santa visit at midnight? Happening. Filling the venue-Lotte New York Palace-with bauble-strung Christmas trees? You know it. Hiring two acrobats to perform in a giant thirteen-foot snow globe, glitter falling constantly over the pair as they put on a showstopping routine? Okay, so Holly and Ivy couldn't make that one happen, but all Holly had to do was whisper the words "giant snow globe" and they'd both start laughing uncontrollably.
"I'm so grateful for you, Ivy," Holly says. "And I know that you, like Matt, are going to be in my life forever." Now her eyes shine with tears. "I couldn't imagine my life without you, Ivy. Thanks for everything." Once this round of glass clinking is over, Holly turns to Matt, who is sitting to her right. But he's fidgeting with his dessert fork and there's a sheen of sweat on his forehead. Ivy wonders if he's still hungover from his bachelor party a few nights earlier, when, she happens to know, he ended up naked at the top of the Empire State Building. He's such a schmuck, Ivy can't help but think. Except Holly is staring down at her sweaty, uncomfortable-looking fiancé like he's the Mona Lisa and she's just arrived in Paris for the first time and rushed straight to the Louvre. "Matt, tomorrow is the day we've dreamed about practically since the moment we met-when we just . . ." She places a hand on her heart, and her berry-red nails shine in the candlelight. "We knew. We gazed at each other over that mud pit and we knew. I'm so excited to become Mrs. Carter. Well, I'm not going to take your name, but I'll be Mrs. Carter in my heart, okay? I'm so excited to spend the rest of our lives together, starting tomorrow. I love you." She looks down at him expectantly, clearly waiting for him to stand and join her, lift his own glass, make his own speech-but Matt just keeps flipping his fork over on top of the tablecloth like it's a competitive sport. As the awkward silence stretches, he finally looks up at Holly. He looks startled, as if he just noticed her there.
"Oh. Thanks. That was really nice. Um, I . . ." He clears his throat, loosens his tie as if it's suddenly choking him. "Right. Yeah. Shit. I'm supposed to make a speech tonight, too." He stands and grips the back of his seat. Ivy can't help but notice his knuckles have gone white. Across the table, D'Arcy, still his best friend, looks sweaty and uncomfortable, too. But when he sees Ivy looking at him, he shoots her a suggestive eyebrow waggle. Although they only dated for a few weeks eight years ago, and the best thing about their relationship was that it led Ivy to Holly, D'Arcy still goes around telling anyone who will listen that Ivy is his ex. After a few drinks, he also says she's "the one who got away"-and "an absolute minx in the sack." Ivy looks away from him, fights hard to get back that sense of happy hopefulness for her friend. Meanwhile, Matt is still clearing his throat and fiddling with his tie.
"Mom, Dad, thank you for planning this dinner." His parents beam at him proudly. "It was great. Eight courses, all meat or meat-adjacent. My dream meal." Ivy, meanwhile, being the only vegetarian in attendance, got six courses of green salad and one very sad stuffed pepper. Even the dessert contained gelatin, and she'd had to leave it untouched. "And Ed and Barb, thank you for . . . well, you know, everything. You've been so great." His voice wobbles, and Ivy is surprised by the sudden show of emotion. He's acting weird, even for Matt. He dashes at a tear with a clenched fist, holds up his glass, says "Cheers, I love you all!" in a wobbling voice. The table clinks glasses again, and no one seems to notice that Matt's glass is empty-and that he didn't even address his bride-to-be. No one except Ivy. She sees it all and feels sick to her stomach.
“Uh-oh, I’m a bit tipsy,” Holly says as they get in the back of the town car that will take them to Ivy’s apartment. “My face will be all puffy tomorrow for my wedding.”
"Please-you could drink all night and walk down the aisle in flannel pajamas, and you'd still be the most beautiful bride in the world."
"Aw, Ivy." Holly leans her head against her friend's shoulder and Ivy pats her hair. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Back at ya," Ivy says.
"We're going to be friends for life."
"I know we are." And Ivy does. She knows married life is going to change things, but also that they can survive it. When Holly went to Yale for law school and Ivy stayed in New York City to start a grueling internship at the ad firm where she's now a senior graphic designer, they sometimes went weeks without seeing each other-but never let it go longer than a month before one of them would take the train either into the city or to New Haven for a girls' weekend.
Holly leans forward and looks at the clock on the dash of the town car. "Forty-five more minutes until midnight, and then the day will be here. My wedding day."
"The countdown is on. Less than sixteen more single-girl hours for you."
"What's the plan for the rest of the evening?"
"Sheet masks and a movie."
"Perfect. Which movie?"
"It's a surprise. And I agonized. I mean, just one movie and not an entire marathon? Tough to pick just one. But I did it. I found the most romantic, but also the weirdest, but also one of our most favorite movies of all time-"
"Meet Joe Black!"
Ivy laughs. "You guessed it. For movie snacks, I have collagen water, this Aztec chocolate that's supposed to make your skin look like a newborn baby's, and maybe the smallest, tiniest bit of top-shelf tequila-because everyone knows you don't get a hangover with the good stuff. And a bubble bath for you, and then . . . one last sleep before you're officially a married lady!"
"Married lady," Holly repeats. Then she sighs. "I'm not going to turn into my mother, am I?"
"Holly, I promise, there is zero chance of that."
"I'm sorry she was so rude tonight. It's not that she doesn't like you . . ."
"It's just that she hates me," Ivy finishes. "And that's fine. Really, Hol. You know I'm not sensitive about it. She wishes you two had the relationship we do-"
"And we can't because she's such an asshole all the time."
Ivy snort-laughs. "That is exactly why."
"One day, it will be you getting married," Holly says. "And I can only hope I'm half the maid of honor you are."
"Maybe," Ivy says.
"Maybe I'll be half the maid of honor you are?"
"Oh, God, no, you'll totally nail it the way you nail everything. You'll leave me in your dust. Just, you might never get the chance."
"It's going to happen. One day, you'll find love that makes you levitate . . . dance like a dervish . . ."
"Screw like a horny titmouse?"
"The full package. Horny titmice and everything."
The car arrives at Ivy's Greenwich Village apartment building. "I'm so glad I can be myself with you," Holly says as they tumble out of the car and link arms.
"I'm glad I can, too, and that you love me for it." Ivy is generally herself with everyone, and sometimes not everyone's cup of tea. But with Holly, she doesn't have to worry about being considered abrupt, or offbeat, or too honest, or too frank about sex. Holly likes her just the way she is. And, Ivy can't help but think, shouldn't that be the case in Holly's life, too? Weren't you supposed to be yourself with the person you were marrying?
"Hey, you okay?" Holly asks as they stand, waiting for the elevator.
"I'm great."
"It'll happen," Holly says, misinterpreting her friend's morose expression. "He's out there somewhere right now, just waiting to meet you. I wonder where he is."
Ivy unlocks the door to her apartment, and they step inside as Holly keeps talking, her voice dreamy. "He could be anywhere. In this city or . . . maybe a dude ranch in Montana . . ."
"Now there's an idea. I've never slept with a cowboy, maybe I need to?"
"Not sleep with, marry," Holly corrects, following Ivy into her tiny galley kitchen, where Ivy pours pints of water from the tap, and tequila from a blue-and-white ceramic bottle. They head into the living room, where she's set up the coffee table with makeup remover, cotton pads, sheet masks, and snacks. She cues up the movie as Holly starts removing her eye makeup.
Once she's done, she sips her tequila. "So good," she says.
"Only the best for the bride-to-be."
"I love that we both drink good booze. I've never seen the point of drinking just to get drunk."
"Al-though, every once in a while, getting lightly buttered-"
"Gently toasted."
"One and a half sheets to the wind."
"-is really a lot of fun. And as you said, this chocolate is going to reverse-age me-"
"Plus, you're already perfect-"
"These sheet masks are going to restore and rejuvenate me, and despite the drinking, I'll look fine tomorrow."
"Better than fine, Holly. You're going to be the most beautiful bride in the world. With the best heart. Also, the smartest."
"Thanks, friend. Movie time?"
Ivy hits play, and the moment Brad Pitt gets randomly walloped by a car while crossing the street, Holly dissolves into laughter and they rewind and replay it, the way they always do. "I'm so sorry," she says, trying to catch her breath. "I know it's not supposed to be funny, but . . ." Pitt flies through the air again, and she buries her face in a throw pillow that comes away damp from her tears of mirth.
Excerpted from The Holiday Honeymoon Switch by Julia McKay. Copyright © 2024 by Julia McKay. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Marie's Review
Every year I look forward to the holiday romance novels. They’re always so cute, fun, light-hearted, and festive. This one was no different. It follows two best friends who decide to swap vacations after one of the friends wound up heartbroken by her fiancé with a honeymoon she couldn’t have refunded. While on their new adventures, naturally, they both meet men that fit the bill of perfect man for them.
This book is the movie The Holiday meets a Hallmark Christmas movie. It’s charming, made me laugh, and at the end, made my heart happy. The men are dreamy, and the friendship is supportive and awesome. Julia McKay does a fantastic job of building a storyline that keeps you invested and the third person writing style, in my opinion, made it even better.
If you’re looking for a fun, quick, and enjoyable holiday read, pick this one up. You won’t regret it!
FTC Disclaimer: Marie voluntarily read a copy of the book generously provided by the publisher in exchange for an honest review. This in no way influences her thoughts or feelings about the book or the content of her review.
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About the Author
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| Photo: © Dahlia Katz |
Julia McKay is the pen name of Marissa Stapley, a former magazine editor and New York Times bestselling author of Reese’s Book Club Pick Lucky, as well as international bestsellers Mating for Life, Things to Do When It’s Raining, and The Last Resort. She is also one half of the writing duo behind The Holiday Swap and All I Want for Christmas by Maggie Knox, and co-author of Three Holidays and a Wedding. Many of her novels have been optioned for television and her journalism has appeared in The Globe and Mail, Toronto Star, Elle, Today’s Parent, and Reader’s Digest. She lives in Toronto with her family and a precocious black cat named Oscar.
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