Ah, Sicily! Gorgeous Italian princes, a hint of mystery and legend – as the setting for a story, it could be fabulous. Unfortunately, The Sicilian Amulet doesn’t deliver on the mystery, the legend, or the promise of exotic romance and exciting adventure described in its cover blurb.

Jane Holland, a rather unengaging college student vacationing in Europe, decides on the spur of the moment to extend her stay (airline penalties be damned, I suppose) to visit Sicily, her mother’s homeland. Jane’s mother, as we are told many times, loathes the place and forbade her daughter to go there. Undaunted, Jane ventures into Palermo and contacts Claudia Donzini, her mother’s best friend.

Despite the last minute notice, Mrs. Donzini immediately opens her home (and her daughter’s designer wardrobe) to Jane. She also introduces the young woman to her family friends, including Prince Lorenzo Bighilaterra, the man whose rear view entranced Jane while she was out sightseeing shortly after her arrival.

Immediately drawn to each other, Jane feels as though she has known the prince all her life, a feeling the prince returns. As a token of his great regard for her, the prince presents Jane with a distinctive amulet made many years earlier for his grandfather Maurizio. Once one of a pair, a second amulet was given by Maurizio to a peasant he loved many years ago. Life seems quite idyllic until Jane starts to hear rumors regarding the prince.

Determined to learn more about her family and her heritage while she’s in Italy, Jane uncovers a supposed scandal involving one of her ancestors and a prince. The story haunts her, and she wonders if old tragedies may be influencing events in her own present-day life.

It all sounds like an interesting premise, doesn’t it? Unfortunately, the execution leaves a lot to be desired. The book opens with Jane contemplating the gorgeous backside of an unnamed Italian man and the description of the linen pants hugging his behind reads almost like the J. Peterman catalog. Then the tone of the story abruptly changes.

The reader is treated to Jane’s meeting with the Donzinis and endless discussions with Lorenzo (and reflections by Jane) about how deep and intelligent the two of them are while everyone else around them is so shallow. However, all the dialogue between Jane and Lorenzo is expressed in overly dramatic terms. Rather than seeing a romance between two supposedly intellectual adults, it seemed as though two adolescents were whining about how the rest of the world doesn’t comprehend their profundity.

The dialogue is excessively theatrical and choppy and since the author tells more than shows her protagonists falling for each other, it’s difficult to get to know the hero and heroine or feel attached to them. In addition, Jane has the childish habit of becoming melodramatic and fleeing whenever she feels threatened or uncomfortable, leading to lots of silly misunderstandings that make Jane look like a hysterical twit. While the runaway heroine gives the author an excuse to have Jane travel around and get into all kinds of other adventures, it really does make the central relationship tiresome.

Perhaps because of this, most of the novel is simply irritating. Jane and Lorenzo are together, then they’re not. They’re back together again, then they’re not. Even worse, this on-again-off-again romance is mixed with a choppy writing style that seems to gloss over the facets of the story that could actually be interesting while spending lots of time harping on minor points (like the hugeness of Jane’s chest) that aren’t nearly as intriguing.

Quite honestly, only one thing saved this novel from being a complete disaster for me: The author’s love of her Sicilian heritage and the island’s history that shone through at many points throughout the book. At times, when history and culture were on center stage, the story seemed to show signs of sparking to life. However, the excessive reliance on melodrama and choppy dialogue overwhelmed these bright moments. Sadly, Jo Manning’s fans might be better served by seeking out her charming Regencies.