Selena Robins, $2.99, ISBN 979-8201849948
Contemporary Romance, 2022
I’ve been reading paranormal romances for a long time now, but it’s been a long time since something reminds me of those “I don’t know whether I should cringe or laugh” paranormal romantic comedies that popped out like mushrooms after a thunderstorm from publishers like LoveSpell, Leisure, Zebra, and various indie digital publishers that are no longer around these days.
This is a roundabout way of me saying that romantic comedies have become far more sophisticated and even cynical since the early 2000s, and Selena Robins’s Once Upon a Kiss feels like it has arrived into the scene some 20 years too late.
After all, it begins with the heroine Sabrina Monroe talking out loud to herself, because back in those days, this kind of thing was fairly standard way of the author trying to show that the heroine is cute and sassy.
Then comes the… magic lady or something.
“Hey, Sabrina,” a high-pitched voice called out. “You believed in the Tooth Fairy for eight years. Surely you can believe in yourself for longer than that.”
“What the…?” Sabrina swung her from head side to side, looking for the woman.
“Over here,” the woman said. “Behind you.”
Sabrina hopped off the car, turned, and faced a twenty-something woman who took bohemian fashion to a whole new level. She wore a long dress that looked like a toddler’s finger-painting project, dandelions stitched on a turquoise shawl, and silver ballet slippers.
Where did she come from?
The woman twirled. “You’re thinking I must’ve been attacked by a neon slime gun, huh?”
I’m thinking about the fact you know my name.
I’m still on the first page, and it gets more… sassy.
Lucy Claire hummed, swaying back and forth as if dancing to a tune.
Sabrina swung her head in all directions, searching for this stranger’s mode of transportation—a car, truck, hot air balloon—a spaceship?
Lucy continued humming the unusual melody, snapping her fingers in time with the tune, and walked around the car four times.
An alien with rhythm?
“Chill, girlfriend.” Lucy Claire let out a giggle. It was the weirdest and most pleasant sound Sabrina had ever heard. “The aliens didn’t abandon me.”
How could she read my mind?
With all the paranormal novels I read, one would think I’d be able to tell when I’d jumped into one.
And now I’m having a conversation with myself. This must be a bizarre dream.
She pinched herself. Hard.
“You’re not dreaming,” Lucy Claire said. “Believe in yourself, and the battle’s half won.”
This really reminds me of some of the biggest cringe-fests that came from those small presses like ImaJinn and Medallion Press. The authors of those stories also tried very hard to be funny, to the point that those stories feel like more canned laugh tracks played on a loop at full volume than anything else.
Sabrina grinned. “You’re a mechanical genie.”
“Not a genie,” Lucy said. “I repair soles.”
“You’re a shoemaker?”
“That’s one way of putting it.” Lucy leaned closer to the driver’s window. Sabrina noticed Lucy’s gaze landed on Sabrina’s well-worn cowboy boots and frayed hemline on her jeans. “A wise woman once said a girl has to make sure her foundation and baggage are solid,” Lucy Claire said. “She recommended a woman should always invest in three things no matter what her financial circumstances.”
“What would those be?”
“A good bra, solid shoes, and a well-made handbag.”
Who speaks like this? The author is trying way too hard, I feel.
Okay, so the humor doesn’t work for me, and that’s an issue because the whole story is like this.
Oh yes, the plot. Sabrina runs the Maple Manor Inn in some small town, and she is described in the story as an “infamous businesswoman”. Considering that the inn is in disrepair and she needs to pull off a wedding in order to keep the inn afloat, I wonder if she’s infamous for running businesses aground.
Jason O’Neal, our hero, wants to buy the land on which the inn is built on, and when she mistakes him as a handyman, he decides to play along.
I’m sure we all know where the story is heading. Honestly, given how infamous Sabrina is when it comes to getting things wrong and doing silly things, I don’t know why he doesn’t just sit back and wait until the inn collapses with her still inside. By the end of the month, he’d probably be able to buy the whole place for a steal to build that golf resort he so dearly wants.
Secondary characters are very preoccupied with the heroine finding a man, although now that I think of it, maybe I can’t fault them for that. Clearly Sabrina is flailing at being a modern, independent, self-sustaining woman, so it makes sense for them to want a brave strong man to swoop in and save the heroine from the inevitable bad end that awaits her should she remains single and failing.
Characters take forever to make a point, because each time they open their mouths, they can’t stop trying very hard to be funny first with awkward lines, snorts, giggles, and more that make them appear more like that hound punching bag of Dick Dastardly than any proper character in their own right. Reading this thing can be a tortuous experience because of this.
Jason shook his hand. “Jason O’Neil.”
They stood across from each other in silence. Jason thought if a couple of tumbleweeds blew down the empty street with piped in old western music, it would complete their encounter.
Ryland lifted his chin toward Jason’s car. “Fully loaded?”
“Yup.”
“Five-point-O liter?”
“Four-hundred-twelve horsepower.” Jason stepped away from his car and eyed the Harley. “Is it my turn to ask about your hog? Or do you want to get straight to the point?”
Ryland headed back to his Harley and leaned against the seat. “Defensive, aren’t you?”
“This town tends to bring that out in me.”
Ryland tipped his head toward the hardware store. “Third-degree in there?”
“Something like that.”
Please stop.
It gets to a point where the plot, the romance, and everything else fade into the background because every scene feels like some forced stand-up comedy act. I feel like telling these people, it’s okay. Relax, go chew on a sandwich, look at the scenery, take a deep breath—there’s really no need to try to make me laugh during every second that I am reading this thing. Show me some romantic moments, emotional drama, anything to break the monotony of the incessant over the top try-hard comedy, please.
Also, everyone speaks in the same so-over, very-over way that they all appear to be clones of one another.
Perhaps there is a sweet small town romance in here, who knows, but that is something I’d leave people that enjoy the author’s brand of comedy to find out.
Personally, my eyes cross way too many times while I’m reading this thing, and the whole experience is unnecessarily painful.
