Fake It 'Til Christmas by Claudia Burgoa releases on November 19th
Available on All Platforms
From USA Today Bestselling Author Claudia Burgoa comes a fake-dating holiday romance filled with slow-burn tension, awkward family dinners, and one grumpy man who might just ruin Christmas for anyone else.
All I agreed to was a fake relationship.
A weekend of pretending I’m in love with my grumpy, emotionally constipated, private-jet-commuting neighbor.
Easy, right?
Except nothing about Soren Thorn is easy.
He doesn’t believe in horoscopes, hates throw pillows, and treats feelings like they’re contagious.
He’s all sighs, black coffee, and unreadable expressions—and for reasons I still don’t understand, he needs me to be his girlfriend for one very public, very awkward family event.
I thought I could handle it.
Play the part. Make it cute.
But then he started trusting me—with real pieces of himself.
Now I know his favorite coffee, some of his secrets, and the exact look he gives when he's about to self-destruct but pretends he’s fine.
And I’m starting to realize this whole fake dating thing might be getting too . . . well, not fake.
Because I don’t just want to survive the weekend.
I want to know what it would feel like if none of it were pretend.
All I agreed to was a fake relationship.
A weekend of pretending I’m in love with my grumpy, emotionally constipated, private-jet-commuting neighbor.
Easy, right?
Except nothing about Soren Thorn is easy.
He doesn’t believe in horoscopes, hates throw pillows, and treats feelings like they’re contagious.
He’s all sighs, black coffee, and unreadable expressions—and for reasons I still don’t understand, he needs me to be his girlfriend for one very public, very awkward family event.
I thought I could handle it.
Play the part. Make it cute.
But then he started trusting me—with real pieces of himself.
Now I know his favorite coffee, some of his secrets, and the exact look he gives when he's about to self-destruct but pretends he’s fine.
And I’m starting to realize this whole fake dating thing might be getting too . . . well, not fake.
Because I don’t just want to survive the weekend.
I want to know what it would feel like if none of it were pretend.
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