Alexandria Bishop, $2.99, ISBN 978-1005370220
Contemporary Romance, 2019
Oh crap, I only realize that the heroine of Alexandria Bishop’s Kiss Me, one Giselle, is freaking 17 after I’ve purchased this thing. Will I get arrested for this?
So much melodrama and I should know, I watch Dawson’s Creek. A disgusting snort escapes and my hand flies to my mouth as I roll onto my side in a full-blown belly laugh. Each word slowly disappears with each little square I doodle over the fake diary entry that fills the back cover of the magazine I’ve been flipping through. It came from my mom’s overflowing stash back home so it’s not like she’ll notice it’s gone or even care. Then again, she’d have to feel anything these days to care. But I shake my head forcing any negative thoughts out. I truly will be miserable if I don’t let myself enjoy my current surroundings at least a little bit. The reason why we’re here doesn’t matter right now.
Now, you may be thinking: wait, Dawson’s Creek died in 2003. Why is a 17-year old watching that show again? Ah, but the author is on to you: this story is set in 2002. 4D chess check-mate!
So, we go back to a time when people still read magazines and own an iPod. Giselle, our heroine, is floating on a cloud of sassy vapidity that summer, stuck in a gorgeous beach and claiming that she’s having it very hard because her friends are not there with her, when… hello there, gorgeous. That’s Anders.
No, no, not the guy that blew up the Chantry in Kirkwall, the canon love interest of my Garrett Hawke in Dragon Age 2. I just love the pathos of two diametrically opposed mages loving and getting on the nerves of one another, up until Anders did that peaceful protest thing. That’s okay, Garrett loves sticking it into crazy anyway, so there is a happily ever after for everyone.
Anyway, this Anders is the good friend of Giselle’s brother Marek.
Running into Marek’s sister was something I knew was bound to happen. Before we even left school, he told me she was going to be here, so it was inevitable. What I didn’t expect was for her to look like a damn Victoria’s Secret model wrapped up in a very tiny jailbait package.
Wait, “very tiny jailbait package”? Is the author trying to get me arrested for possession of this thing?
It’d be horrible to be arrested because of this thing, because it perfectly encapsulates what I always imagined true love for a 17-year old to be: shallow and boring as can be to someone of my age to read about.
Whoa, the difficult decisions the heroine has to make.
My hair whips around my face sticking to my glossy lips as the wind picks up. So much for a nice sunny summer day. I’m usually a lip balm kind of girl, but I left the house kind of quick this morning and grabbed the first thing I saw. Oops. Rather than focus on the yucky mess that is currently my lips I look around the small farmer’s market. There’s shaved ice and honey sticks which remind me of my childhood. When we used to do stuff as a family instead of falling apart.
The steam and the tension, oh my goodness, that will burn down the cell block that houses all those people that were arrested for possession of nasty things involving kiddies and animals!
With a raised eyebrow he points down at my boobs. Is he fucking with me right now? I shrug my shoulders and glance down to see if one of them popped out…but no they’re both still intact. When I glance back up, he’s still looking at my black razorback tank top and I am completely confused so I ask, “The flamingo?”
He slowly nods his head and says, “Yeah. I’ve seen you wear stuff with them a lot. So why flamingoes?”
The human drama, of Giselle making her father’s close brush with death due to cancer to be all about her!
Oh, and the profound insight into love and angst!
“You’re always stealing my popcorn,” I say without thinking about what I’m doing, as I hand the bag over to him and he greedily starts eating the rest. No worries, I was starting to feel a little sick to my stomach anyway. Cotton candy flavored popcorn probably isn’t the smartest lunch choice. As he finishes off the last bites from the bottom of the bag I simply say, “It’s cotton candy.”
The writing is fine, and there is a touch of whimsy to Giselle’s self-absorbed prattle that I can’t help liking. I would probably love this story to bits if I were still in my teens, but sadly, Kiss Me only brings out the crabby old coot in me. I mean, yes, these two can hook up, have fun, and I hope it’s legal in their state for Anders to blow up Giselle’s Chantry, but in the end, this is a summer fling. They’d break up and slag one another on social media before the year is out anyway.
Had this been a mystery, thriller, drama, or anything to reduce the focus on the teen romance, I’d likely love this one more. As it is, well… I’m just going to move on now, to look for more interesting things to read.
