Mistletoe & Mishigas by M.A. Wardell book review
book review

Book Review: Mistletoe & Mishigas

Mistletoe & Mishigas by M.A. Wardell is where the most unlikely pairing falls in sweet, steamy love while fake dating for the holidays. Reviewed by Andrea Marks-Joseph.

Mistletoe & Mishigas

by M.A. Wardell

Genre: Romance / LGBTQ

ISBN: 9798987787540

Print Length: 302 pages

Reviewed by Andrea Marks-Joseph

The most unlikely pairing falls in sweet, steamy love while fake dating for the holidays.

Mistletoe & Mishigas is a fake-dating romance about Sheldon, a first-grade teacher who was suddenly transferred to a new school at the same time he discovers that he’s been invited to his ex’s Christmas wedding. He’s stressed about starting over, though the new school is surprisingly lovely, and even more stressed about the fact that he’ll have to take his sister as his date to the wedding, which is exactly what his ex would expect. The school’s custodian, Theo, is still a relative stranger and reluctantly helpful colleague when he spontaneously volunteers himself as Sheldon’s date to the wedding. 

“‘But Christmas is …’” 

“‘Three weeks away, I know, but we don’t know each other. At all. We can’t dillydally if we want to pull this off.” Three weeks of listening to Sheldon talk and talk and then talk some more. Three weeks of hearing him say things like “dillydally.” 

Sheldon could reciprocate by easing Theo’s parents’ worries about him not having a boyfriend during their upcoming Hanukkah visit. The majority of the book follows the two completely different men (in every way, truly) getting to know each other as practice for pretending they’re boyfriends, and of course realizing along the way that this fake relationship might be a genuine romance come to life.

M.A. Wardell delivers an opposites-attract, grumpy-sunshine romance where both characters are exasperating, to each other and the reader, at the start—in the best way! Sheldon’s perspective fluctuates between cringe and judgmental, and though he is  joyous in a way that seems sincere, he comes across as desperately trying to act out what his idea of perfection and optimism looks like. Theo is grouchy even in his internal narration, which at first makes you want to tell him “Relax, dude, it’s not that deep.” It feels like he’s expending soooo much energy to stay stoic and stern and not crack a smile, and we immediately want more for him. 

Wardell’s writing makes it so that we have a firm hope in where this relationship will improve their lives, even before the idea is floated around. The romance genre dictates that the love between Sheldon and Theo will offer a life-changing freedom from whatever’s holding them back, and by contrasting their lives against each other so sharply, Mistletoe & Mishigas sets that expectation up perfectly. Even when I was frustrated about something they said to each other, or a detail that felt unrealistic, it was because the point didn’t feel true to a character I’d known for only a handful of chapters. Such is the clarity and impact of Wardell’s writing that I was ready to argue with the author about what their character would do after knowing them on page for like, two school days. Of course, as the story progressed, I was thankful for every twist and comforting turn that led them along a road toward a soothing, sex-filled season of love.

The sex is scorching hot, the opposites-attract electricity bright as Christmas lights, the found family sweet and rich as a homemade Hanukkah feast. This book will be a hit with readers who enjoy size-difference tropes, one person being more sexually experienced than the other, fake-dating, and hurt-comfort narratives. 

Mistletoe & Mishigas is very much about two men who can’t believe the other would ever want to be with them, even once they start hooking up and cuddling and living together. This is for the readers who get a thrill from being told that “This time next week, it will all be over. But I still have five days with him.”while knowing they’re both absolutely pining for more. It’s all impossibly enchanting and captures your heart. You’ll be rooting for the couple to realize this is a real romance, just as strongly as you cheer for Theo and Sheldon to see their own brilliance and beauty and being worthy of all the love they give.

Sheldon’s arc, and the reason he’s often overcompensating and over-the-top, is a response to his being cherished for who he is —gay, femme, so petite that Theo tells us his lover “doesn’t weigh more than a wet bagel,” and so flamboyant that Theo thinks his new colleague “has to equal at least three gay friends”—by his twin sister, but not by their parents, who shunned him for being gay. The siblings moved away and now live together, with Sheldon’s moody cat. The way Theo’s parents contrast Sheldon’s experience is startlingly wonderful, heartwarming to the point where readers will become the emotional-eyes-watering emoji on behalf of Theo, who is profoundly thankful that his parents can offer this delightful, unconditional love to his boyfriend. 

Part of the attraction Theo and Sheldon feel for each other is their size difference. It’s meant to be gently teasing, sometimes reading as though Theo is in on the joke, and at times it’s even part of their foreplay—but for me, it doesn’t always come across like this. It can occasionally feel like his size is treated as unfortunate, as exclusive to being handsome. The treatment of his body did catch me slightly triggered at times, but it may not necessarily bother other readers.

Theo is the highlight of this story for me. Sheldon encapsulates the vibe of this book and what I loved most about it with this line: “Theo. His big handsome face. His big, tender heart. His big, gorgeous cock.” Theo’s journey is so moving and made me wish I could hug him. His storyline surrounds flashbacks to falling in love while deployed in the military a decade ago, and his (secret, as this was during Don’t Ask Don’t Tell) boyfriend dying while they were out there. We follow this precious, painful, poignant love story in Theo’s memories from their meeting to his lover’s death. Now, ten years later, Theo is living a quiet, sheltered life, keeping mostly to himself—not just because he lives with the expected lingering trauma response to sudden loud noises like their school’s emergency drills, but because he swore to protect his boyfriend, and his death left Theo with mountains of guilt about feeling like he failed to do so. 

Theo cooks amazing food, is close with his loving parents, and lives with gentleness alongside his grief. There is so much aching and patience and hope conveyed through Theo’s story. Theo learning to embrace Christian’s encouraging advice that “Love is a risk. That’s the gig. But you do it anyway because it’s also the best fucking thing in the world” made me “aww” and laugh out loud (especially when he would tell Sheldon to stop talking, because he really never stops). Reading him had me holding my hand to my sternum with emotion, frequently smiling with warmth and pride. As a disabled reader, I also appreciated that Theo’s limp is simply another characteristic included in his daily life, making him no less or more desirable because of it. 

Readers should know that there are several flashbacks and extensive, emotional exploration of Theo’s time in the military, as well as significant scenes where he panics and physically shuts down as a result of a falsely-rung fire alarm at school.

I laughed out loud often, sometimes at holiday-appropriate phrases like “It hits me like a partridge in a pear tree” and bagel cafe names like “Schmear and Far,” but mostly at the various characters teasing each other in good spirit. Equal parts earnest and amusing, this rom-com feels less like swoon-filled fiction and more like a love story the reader may one day actually fall into. If you’re a regular romance reader, the pacing may feel slightly off-balance. The relationship beats we’re used to don’t land in the places or with the tone we expect, which feels disorienting at first, but you’ll easily sink into the fun of Theo negotiating pet names and Sheldon showing up in his life uninvited. 

How charming for a romance novel to be so rich in reality that the smooth, soft glow of the fantasy that usually accompanies this genre momentarily felt as sticky-sweet and tangible as the mischievous first grader Sheldon and Theo work together to accommodate, running right through to my world. 


Thank you for reading Andrea Marks-Joseph’s book review of Mistletoe & Mishigas by M.A. Wardell! If you liked what you read, please spend some more time with us at the links below.

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