This book is silly, and not in a fun way. After walking in on her fiancé hugging—yes HUGGING—another woman (a woman who is slut-shamed every time she’s mentioned) Peyton is ready to call off her wedding, but is pressured into going through with it by her irredeemably nasty social climber of a mother and her suddenly repugnant boyfriend. But never fear! She does run away from her wedding after overhearing two one-dimensional mean girls revealing that her fiancé is only going through with because his father would cut him off otherwise. Peyton hightails it to a small town inn which is inexplicably called the Rest Thy Head, where she meets handsome sweetheart Patrick, grumpy, hideously scarred veteran Jake and a maid named Annie who is so obviously a ghost that she may as well be wearing a sheet over her head and wailing in the hallways all night. Through a series of the most minding numbingly dull flirtations (brushing a horse, playing in a pool, I think I remember a foodfight?) Peyton finds herself falling for one of the brothers… and I pretty sure you can guess which one. After some bizarre Jane Austenesque hijinks, a liberal dash of Beauty & the Beast and a HILARIOUS (though it’s certainly not meant to be) kidnapping on horseback, will the O’Malley sisters find true love? Well there’s only one way to find out…
Read the cover of the book.
It’s right there. The first sign the reader gets that this book is going to be an uninspired, sugary sweet Hallmark Channelesque nightmare is right on the cover—which is really thoughtful if you think about it. Below the title, these words appear
“Two sisters find love at a haunted inn”
Yup. That’s right on the cover. I don’t know about you, but a big part of reading a book is well…not knowing the ending before I open it. But Rest Thy Head resists any attempt to build the tension a good story needs to keep the average reader interested. It gives you all the answers before the questions are asked.
I know that I’m a grump and my reviews usually tend toward the negative, but this novel may easily be the worst book I have ever read. It lacks depth, wit, heart and humor, and for a romantic comedy novel that is worse than death. The characters are one-dimensional figures who move around the plot not because they are inspired to but because Cantrell is shoving them, forcing them to do things that don’t feel natural or interesting. Peyton, our protagonist, is so devoid of personality that only moments after putting the books down I forgot everything about her… besides her chestnut hair. Her possible love interests are either so ill-formed that they fade into the background or so ridiculously overdrawn that they’re laughable. Same goes for her sister (plain oatmeal with a side of skim milk) and her mother (may as well have had a long twirly villain mustache for most of the book).
Nothing in this novel feels like it has been crafted by the hands of a skilled veteran writer, but perhaps the worst offense is what seems to be a ham-fisted use of 19th century novel tropes. It almost feels as though Cantrell was working with a “How to Write a Jane Austen Novel” Checklist…
Pennyless, disgraced but ultimately good/kind sisters? CHECK
Male Land Owners? CHECK
Enough Suitors to go around? CHECK
One Charming/Nonthreantening & One Complicated/Passionate? CHECK
Melodramatic Recuse Plot in the 3rd Act? CHECK
A Makeshift Theatrical? CHECK
A Happy Ending? Well… you’ll have to read the cover to find out.