Sophie Sullivan has carved out a comfortable niche in the contemporary romance landscape, delivering reliably heartwarming stories that balance humor with emotional depth. Her latest offering, You Make It Feel Like Christmas, brings readers back to the world of professional sports romance while wrapping the narrative in twinkling lights and pine-scented nostalgia. This standalone novel asks whether second chances can bloom in the frost of a Christmas tree farm, and whether two people who spectacularly failed at a first impression deserve another shot at connection.
The premise itself offers immediate appeal: photographer Maisie Smart and hockey player Nick King shared one unforgettable night six months ago, only to have Nick vanish the following morning without explanation. When fate conspires to trap them together for a week at Tickle Tree Farm—run by Nick’s sister—the stage is set for forced proximity, simmering tension, and the kind of holiday redemption arc that romance readers crave. Sullivan delivers on these expectations with competence and charm, though the execution occasionally stumbles over familiar territory.
Character Development: Strength in Vulnerability
Sullivan’s greatest strength lies in her character work, and Maisie emerges as a genuinely compelling protagonist. Her journey as a photographer who defied family expectations to pursue her passion feels authentic and grounded. The novel doesn’t shy away from exploring the weight of parental disappointment and the courage required to forge your own path. Maisie’s internal struggle between her artistic identity and her desire for familial approval adds genuine stakes beyond the romantic plot, elevating what could have been a one-dimensional heroine into someone readers can root for on multiple fronts.
Her photography serves as more than mere career decoration; Sullivan weaves Maisie’s artistic eye throughout the narrative, allowing her perspective to color descriptions and create moments of genuine beauty. When Maisie observes the world through her lens, readers see not just the physical setting but the emotional landscape she’s navigating. This attention to how profession shapes personality demonstrates Sullivan’s understanding that our vocations often reflect our deeper selves.
Nick King presents a more complex challenge, and here Sullivan both succeeds and occasionally falters. His anxiety disorder receives thoughtful, sensitive treatment that avoids both melodrama and minimization. The novel explores how his career-threatening injury intersects with his mental health struggles, creating a character whose walls feel earned rather than arbitrary. Nick’s tendency to retreat when overwhelmed rings psychologically true, and his gradual opening up follows a believable trajectory.
However, Nick’s initial disappearing act—the inciting incident that creates the central conflict—doesn’t quite earn the forgiveness the narrative extends to him. While Sullivan eventually provides context for his morning-after departure, the explanation feels somewhat thin given the depth of hurt it caused Maisie. This creates an imbalance where readers might find themselves ahead of the protagonist, ready to forgive Nick before Maisie logically should. The novel would benefit from either a more substantial justification for his behavior or a longer path to redemption.
The Setting as Character
Tickle Tree Farm emerges as one of the novel’s most successful elements, a character in its own right rather than mere backdrop. Sullivan captures the sensory details of a working Christmas tree farm with evident affection—the scent of fresh pine, the crunch of snow underfoot, the golden glow of string lights against darkening winter afternoons. The farm becomes a space where ordinary rules suspend, where the magic of the season creates permission for vulnerability.
The supporting cast populating the farm adds texture and warmth. Nick’s sister provides more than convenient plot facilitation; she emerges as a fully realized character balancing single motherhood, business ownership, and her own complicated feelings about her brother’s choices. The nephew character avoids the precocious-child-as-plot-device trap that often plagues romance novels, instead reading as a genuine kid with his own interests and concerns.
Pacing and Plot Structure: Comfortable but Predictable
The forced proximity trope serves Sullivan well, creating natural opportunities for connection while maintaining believable tension. The week-long timeline provides structure without feeling rushed, allowing the relationship to develop through accumulated small moments rather than dramatic revelations. Readers watch Maisie and Nick negotiate shared spaces, forced conversations, and unexpected intimacies that gradually chip away at their defenses.
Yet this comfortable structure also represents the novel’s most significant limitation. The beats arrive exactly when seasoned romance readers expect them: the initial hostile encounter, the moment of forced cooperation, the slow thaw, the inevitable misunderstanding, the grand gesture. Sullivan executes these moments with skill, but rarely surprises. The secondary plot involving Maisie’s family expectations resolves perhaps too neatly, and certain conflicts deflate rather than climax.
The middle section of You Make It Feel Like Christmas sags slightly as the will-they-won’t-they dynamic begins to feel repetitive. While Sullivan includes variety in the activities—tree selection, farm chores, holiday preparations—the emotional beats start to circle. Readers committed to seeing these characters achieve their happy ending may find their attention wandering during the third or fourth cycle of Nick pulling away and Maisie questioning her willingness to be vulnerable again.
Writing Style: Warmth and Accessibility
Sullivan writes with a clean, accessible style that prioritizes clarity and emotional resonance over stylistic flourishes. Her prose won’t win awards for innovation, but it serves the story effectively, creating a reading experience that flows smoothly from page to page. The dialogue rings natural, capturing the rhythms of how people actually speak while avoiding the overly polished quality that can make characters feel artificial.
The balance between description and action generally works well, though occasional passages lean heavily toward telling rather than showing, particularly regarding emotional states. When Sullivan trusts her scenes to convey feeling, the writing shines. When she supplements strong moments with explanatory internal monologue, the impact diminishes slightly.
The holiday atmosphere permeates without overwhelming. Sullivan understands that effective seasonal romance requires more than surface decoration; the Christmas setting must enhance the emotional journey rather than simply providing aesthetic appeal. She largely achieves this balance, using the season’s themes of renewal and second chances to underscore the central relationship arc.
The Sports Romance Element
As a hockey romance, You Make It Feel Like Christmas succeeds in making Nick’s profession feel relevant without requiring readers to understand NHL minutiae. His injury and the anxiety it triggers create genuine stakes that extend beyond the romantic plot. The glimpses into his athletic life feel researched and authentic without drowning readers in technical details.
However, the sports element remains somewhat underdeveloped compared to other dual-career romances. While Maisie’s photography receives substantial page time and thematic weight, hockey functions more as circumstance than passion for Nick. This creates a slight imbalance in how the novel explores what drives each character professionally.
Final Assessment: Comfort Reading Done Right
You Make It Feel Like Christmas ultimately succeeds as satisfying seasonal romance despite its predictable structure and occasional narrative shortcuts. Sullivan delivers the emotional beats readers seek from this subgenre: the healing power of second chances, the courage required to be vulnerable, the magic of finding someone who sees past your defenses. The novel won’t challenge genre conventions or surprise veterans of contemporary romance, but it provides exactly what it promises—a warm, hopeful story about people finding their way back to each other against a backdrop of twinkling lights and evergreen branches.
You Make It Feel Like Christmas works best for readers seeking comfort and familiarity rather than innovation, those who want to curl up with hot chocolate and watch characters they like navigate obstacles toward an earned happy ending. Sullivan understands her audience and delivers accordingly, crafting a romance that feels like coming home for the holidays—familiar, warm, and ultimately satisfying despite any small disappointments along the way.
Similar Reading Recommendations
Readers who enjoy Sullivan’s blend of sports romance and seasonal charm in You Make It Feel Like Christmas might appreciate:
- In a Holidaze by Christina Lauren—for another Christmas setting with second-chance elements
- The Christmas Fix by Lucy Score—combining small-town holiday atmosphere with workplace romance
- The Bromance Book Club by Lyssa Kay Adams—for thoughtful exploration of male vulnerability in sports romance
- The Off Limits Rule by Sarah Adams—featuring similar forced proximity dynamics
- The Kiss Quotient by Helen Hoang—for contemporary romance with sensitive mental health representation
- A Merry Little Meet Cute by Julie Murphy and Sierra Simone—blending holiday settings with adult contemporary romance
Sullivan’s previous works, including A Guide to Being Just Friends and Ten Rules for Faking It, demonstrate her consistent ability to craft character-driven contemporary romances that balance humor with emotional depth, making her backlist worth exploring for readers new to her work.