Shut Up and Kiss Me arrives with Dorchester’s Publisher’s Pledge, a risk-free, money-back guarantee in case you don’t “find it everything [you] want in a contemporary romance”. Now, a better person would resist. But since I never claimed to be good, I will respond to Dorchester’s Publisher’s Pledge and say that if I’d bought this book, I would be asking for my $7.99 back.

This is why: Shala Winters is a tourism consultant who specializes in revitalizing small-town tourism, and Precious, Texas, needs her badly. But her camera gets stolen at a powwow, and the only way she can get it back is by asking Sky Gomez, the Chief of Police and all-round love ‘em and leave ‘em guy. They’ve got the major hots for each other, but that’s going to have to take a backseat to finding the guy who attacks Sky’s foster father Redfoot, then attacks Shala, then attacks the motel owner. But Redfoot’s not worried about their love life because his dreams predict that Sky and Shala are soul mates – of course, he forgets that he once predicted his foster daughter Maria and his natural son Jose were soul mates as well, but then Jose left Maria and now Maria’s with Matt, a skinny white boy (their words, not mine) who uses extra-large condoms. And Redfoot’s got his own problems, seeing as…actually, I’ll just stop there.

Because that’s a lot happening. And that’s also a lot of wack. That was my main problem with the book – wacky soap opera has its time and place, but it gets really tedious when every few pages jumps between scenes, and the characters get into yet another fight, and Jose ends up covered in red ants and sprayed by a skunk, and they end up in jail, and Redfoot gets caught in sticky situations, etc. etc. etc. It is hilarious; it’s also way too much.

With all that on the boat it’s amazing how well-rounded the characters are – all of them. Ms. Christie has written an enjoyable cast with sympathetic stories that almost (but not quite) balance the wack, and I like that she has written a largely multicultural group. That being said, their personalities occasionally get lost in the wack, resulting in some inconsistencies – Shala, for example, begins the book as a regular sexually-aware woman, but by the middle acquires an aura of innocence and sweetness that mysteriously (and very chauvinistically, I must say) appeals to our hero, along with her 34C, 5’3” frame. Whatever.

In all fairness, not only was it a close call, but Dorchester sets itself (and their authors) a pretty high bar. Everything anyone could want in a contemporary? Tall order, mate, considering that Ms. Craig’s brand of humour will not be universally appreciated. If the next book would just shut up and get on with the story, I might check back.