"If Jane Austen had written a book set in a castle off the coast of France"

When we last checked in on Princess Sophie Baldwin for the latest gossip we found her tumultuous life had taken a turn for the turbulent. She and teenage daughter Savannah had decamped to a sovereign island nation to assume their rightful places on the throne after decades in North Carolinian exile. While Savannah's exploits will surely be told in several year's time as another St. Michel romance, potentially entitled Accidental Daughter, Sophie's time is now, and not just because several foreigners are either trying to sleep with her, murder her or offer her shiny headwear. No, there is nothing quite like God-given authority over a well-populated dominion, and the love of a handsome man, to give someone their groove back. Sophie had led a weary existence as ludicrously dressed doormat due to Frank's mistreatment, her adoptive parent's betrayal, her real family's choice of either abandonment or death, her daughter's impertinence, Mary's snobbery and Laura dying. Thus, she has truly suffered for her shot at superiority. One might have assumed that ruling a kingdom would see an end to her troubles, but disaster seems to follow Sophie as closely as her security detail.

Once she has landed and partaken in splendour, the machinations are in place to seal her discreditation. Several inappropriate trysts with the evil Vicomte Yves de Vaugirard sully her reputation and reveal to the world's media that she is in fact the daughter of Princess Sylvie and rock legend Nick Morrison. One might have assumed that this would be the end of her troubles, but there is still the problematic matter of a decades long Founteneau Curse to consider, as well as the mutual physical longing that has consumed the thoughts of Sophie and part-time Oliver Martinez impersonator Luc Lejardin, who isn't the most competent bodyguard at the best of times. Sophie invites her shy yet likeable maid, Adéle and her mother, Marie, to the castle for tea and awkwardly translated conversation. Marie previously worked as Sylvie's most loyal and obsessive assistant, and confesses that when the plane crashed Nick and the Princess were headed on their honeymoon, having been married in a small French village. Does this change anything? Not exactly, because Sophie had already been scandalously born and remains illegitimate, but the revelation elicits a minor response from Luc possibly signifying meaning.

With the numerous subplots established and one hundred and eighty pages filled with words, Thompson is able to pen the final chapter. There is much to resolve and neither the time nor the talent to do so satisfactorily. First up, there's the business of Sophie's claim to her title, which can be challenged on the grounds that her parents were unwed. Fortunately, they were married. Did anyone mention Luc's brother, Alex, is a lawyer who has been studiously scanning the Constitution for legal loopholes? No? Well, he is and he was. What about ex-husband, Frank, and his demands to see his daughter more often than the reader does? This afterthought of an inconvenience is dealt with in a single sentence, as nebulous external conflicts should be. Frank is paid off and invited over whenever he wants. As for Luc's concerns about his besmirched family name and lowly commoner status, this is settled simply by pretending no one had brought it up to begin with. Plot points are resolved in one paragraph of good news, better news and best news, and inevitable love-making follows, as Luc and Sophie fuse into one, although the author rather skimps on salacious detail. There is no time for euphemisms for body parts, not when there are crimes to solve and crimes to prevent.

Speaking of which, how is Luc's investigation going? As the population of the island consists of himself, the King and two other people, Luc manages to narrow his list of suspects down to two. Having patiently waited until after his best friend had been murdered, Luc installs informants in the de Vaugirard household where homicidal schemes are hatched with such Gallic arrogance that staff are invited to listen and offer criticism. Oh, you foolish de Vaugirard's, your secretive and successful killing spree has been uncovered by your lack of secrecy. Yet, despite the damning evidence of countless witnesses, Luc and the King still do not have enough evidence to convict the pair, perhaps because the St. Michel police and court system are inept and open to bribes. Therefore a plan is concocted to lure a hired assassin into the open at the New Year's Eve Ball. Despite the danger, the St. Michel New Year's Ball is something of a tradition and the King isn't about to let threats upon his or his granddaughter's life get in the way of a good party. Still, mannequins are to be dressed and stood on a distant balcony to draw the gunfire. Suddenly and without drama two shots ring out, and, obviously fearing the end, Luc throws his massive body on Sophie's. How did the de Vaugirard's know of the decoy trick? That hardly seems important. What does seem important is not lingering on anything narratively influential.

Thompson skips forward a few days to find Luc and Sophie driving up towards St. Ezra, where Princess Sylvie was wed, to find the necessary documentation proving her legitimacy. King Bertrand was saved by his trusty bulletproof vest. The assassin and Daddy de Vaugirard are behind bars, although Son de Vaugirard escaped. Nevertheless, Sophie is plagued by doubts about her future, and wishes to return to North Carolina with Savannah and Luc in tow. Her lover fixes this fleeting crisis with a similar series of clichés that must have worked on Amanda, because Sophie decides to stay where the money, power and happiness is. All is well, but what's that? Yves de Vaugirard? Awaiting them with a loaded gun? How did he know they would be there? That hardly seems important. What does seem important is disarming him with the minimal amount of tension. Luc takes a bullet to the shoulder and Sophie headbutts the villain. The first headbutt in Mills & Boon history? It seems likely in a world where kisses tend to be spectacular. A cursory epilogue wraps things up as merrily as possible. The murderers are jailed, the hero and heroine are engaged, Savannah is probably all right, the King lives, Luc is redeemed from the scandal only he was aware of and any subplots Thompson forgot about can't have been significant. Everybody loves a wedding. The End.

For all its failings as a romance, and the many deficiencies that prohibit it from working as a mystery thriller, Accidental Princess also misfires as a fairytale. Nancy Robards Thompson is unable to create an atmosphere of wonder to make for a traditional story, while an absence of either wit or insight keeps her contemporary twist clear of subversion. By allowing her heroine moments of clarity she calls attention to the incredulity of the plotting. Despite the world outside intruding hungrily on the idealised island neither St. Michel nor North Carolina are convincing. The characters are too poorly-drawn to perceive events in a credible manner and the novel falls flat around a limp heroine and hackneyed obstacles. With little in the way of internal conflict the plot relies on the supposedly frowned-upon device of external threats. The magnitude of the situation relegates romance to a subplot and fails to differentiate between Sophie's courtship and her regal ascension. Accidental Princess takes a haphazard approach to politics, concluding that unelected Plutocracy works for everyone so long as the oligarchs are nice. As events culminate in farcical crime-fighting Sophie's attempt to redistribute the wealth while retaining all the power and luxury are forgotten, although a Christmas toy drive is tacked on for no worthwhile reason. Her work in social services and initial disagreement with de Vaugirard over just how revolting poor people are become trite indications of Sophie's humanity, and are wasted instead of developed into a moral dilemma as she learns about her new home's systematic inequality.

To bulk out proceedings Thompson introduces several attractive characters for the benefit of a franchise. Luc has two gorgeous, charming and wealthy brothers, while Sophie calls her confidante, the beautiful and single Lindsey (Linds to her friends. Hi, Linds!), ostensibly to learn that Laura's death was an accident, and not suicide, thus absolving Sophie of guilt. Linds, Henri and Alex each later enjoyed their own surprise riches, secret babies and designer shoes with Accidental Heiress, Accidental Father and Accidental Cinderella joining Accidental Princess in a series based around a theme of inadvertency. The first of the series also marked Thompson's debut for Harlequin Mills & Boon, although the publishers repackaged the novel for a Special Moments 2-in-1 alongside Stacy Connelly's Once Upon a Wedding, as a tenuously-linked pair of underwhelming modern fairytales. The publisher's patronage of Thompson is difficult to fathom, as Accidental Princess has the lazy plotting, clumsy prose and laboured setpieces of a seasoned professional coasting on legacy. Authors with several titles behind them have struggled to skillfully combine a standard romance with a dramatic b-story, as The Domino Effect and MacKenzie's Promise prove. Therefore we can perhaps forgive Thompson's indiscretion as foolish ambition. Attempting a cross-genre Mills & Boon just sees a writer offer two disappointments where there should have been one, although if we were to count Once Upon a Wedding on top then that would make three disappointments.

"An action that could've been interpreted as unintentional... or not"

Those weblog devotees who can remember starting Accidental Princess will certainly want to forget reading it. We left Sophie Baldwin in the crux of a life-changing dilemma, putting aside all reason to decide on either changing her life or keep it chugging along aimlessly. There was little to recommend the latter, only her teenage daughter's inevitable pregnancy would someday break the tedium of working and occasionally living. There was, however, something about the alternative offer of taking on the royal duties of a small Mediterranean island. All the umming and ahhing in the world proved unable to make Sophie decisive and therefore within a few pages of chapter four her mind had been made up for her, through a combination of important men and God, perhaps the most important man of all. Initially Nancy Robards Thompson seemed to suggest Sophie's choice was something of an agonising philosophical conundrum, but within moments of intriguing her readers with three chapters of thinking and back-story she resolved to wrap things up as abruptly as possible. After all, who would say no to becoming an European princess and why would those who would say no be reading a Mills & Boon Special Moments Romance entitled Accidental Princess?

Well, due to her career in the social services Sophie cannot simply abandon North Carolina to live on a fictional island. She has obligations to her clients, such as fraught single mother Laura Hastings, and possibly others with names of their own. Somewhat fortunately for everyone involved Laura kills herself, landing her four young children in something of a quagmire, but completely freeing up Sophie's Tuesday afternoon. Still, there is more to life on the east coast than work. What about her spawn and those two strangers who masqueraded for decades as her parents? Savannah cannot decamp to another country, not with school, her father and a first boyfriend to contend with. Somewhat fortunately Sophie's ex-husband is a jerk, Tick reconciles with a former flame and the school denies ever having a student named after a city, completely freeing up Savannah's life. Meanwhile, parenthood is tricky, and made especially tough with no natural bond between adult and child. When considered on these terms, all the betrayal and dishonesty in the world cannot overshadow the selfless act of devotion Rose and John showed by feeding and misleading Sophie across those thirty-odd years. Thus, with details such as organising emigration glossed over, Princess Sophie and Princess Savannah jet off to someplace even the most cursorary research would have told them only exists in the imagination of a geographically-confused author.

Never mind glaring plot flaws though, because regality is tremendous. Sophie and Savannah are indulged, waited upon and given expensive gifts that aren't even real yet, including a super-cool cellular phone that makes the iPhone look like a cinder block with numbers drawn on. Flashy gadgets and luxurious bedding are used primarily to disguise the lack of emotional development in the characters. Luxury appears to appease the mother and daughter, as they recover from the shock of their overnight success. Still, it is not all pillows made of puppies and castles filled with candy, because the thought does occur to Sophie that her biological mother perished as a teenager, her biological father was a rock and roll legend and her adoptive parents are nothing more than fawning imposters who raised her in deceitful poverty. Still, nothing really matters in the face of Luc's haughty handsomeness, which is used primarily to disguise the lack of credibility in Sophie's personality. The novel supposes that the mutual attraction that develops between hero and heroine overcomes the shakiness of the narrative. Nevertheless, this manages to be more convincing than the single stumbling block standing in the way of their union, the class system. Luc is acutely aware that his disgraced family name leaves him in no position to woo a princess without it appearing as ungentlemanly social climbing. Sophie, meanwhile, is from the far more enlightened United States, and she won't let tradition tell her who she can and can't sleep with.

To let the proverbial gremlin loose in the proverbial system, Robards Thompson remembers to introduce the subplot involving someone murdering the king's family in a bid to claim the throne. Who could it be? Luc, the comically inept head of security? The King? Sophie? Savannah? What about the conceited St. Michelian who hates everyone and is hungry for power? Possibly that last one, but whoever knows isn't telling, and so the fairytale continues with several elements that clearly don't belong in a fairytale. Snooty, middle-aged Vicomte Yves De Vaugirard and his less significant father, Comte Pascal De Vaugirard, are dismayed to learn of a secret love child and an unconstitutional attempt to make her queen. Before turning to his trusted method of murder-to-look-like-accident the elitist villain and the evil mouse that lives in his pocket make a much more innocent play at discrediting Sophie, through a combination of kissing and photography. The public relations nightmare that enfolds only drives Sophie into the grateful arms of Luc Lejardin, who had until then been keeping his distance, unable as he is to control his passionate manhood around royal women. With that Chapter eleven ends with the promise of lip-locking, death-defying and subplot-forgetting.

Casual misogyny, trite political moralising and offensive stereotyping briefly enliven proceedings, but besides that Accidental Princess is largely a disappointment and whatever the opposite of entertainment is. Secrets Uncovered would argue that while situations need not be believable for romantic fantasy the reactions of the characters must be credible to keep the scenario tethered to reality. Nancy Robards Thompson's downfall comes from a protagonist too swept up in wonderment to make the necessary decisions to bring about dramatic resolution. She spends her time asking why her, and the majority of her thoughts tend towards Luc, either thanking the heavens he is beside her or asking the heavens where he has got to. This is necessary, of course, given the genre's demands for a love story, but there seems to be greater need for the plotting and fleshing out of the troubled daughter, decades long murdering and the throne ascension, the things the novel has included as background colour. While optimistic hopes that these strands can be brought together for a satisfying finale border on the delusional, readers have the right to expect that Thompson would not have included a mass of detail without the intention of later remembering what it was.

The politics of St. Michel are discreetly hidden behind a wall of confused understandings of how countries exist. The island appears to be an autocracy, running on a form of an unelected elitism, which seems to have suited everyone for centuries. The people are peons to the royal family and while nearly everyone is somehow financially resplendent Sophie does hear of small pockets of poverty from the pampered lips of an unelected elitist. Needing a mission to keep from appearing the ineffectual figurehead she is supposed to be, Sophie discovers the socialist principles all Americans are taught and reveals her nobility by learning her servants names and ordering them not to work on Thanksgiving. What's Thanksgiving, they ask? You're welcome, she smiles, not as their boss but as their equal. While this does call to mind her sterling social work in North Carolina the narrative has no interest in righting societal wrongs, and includes this fleeting attempt to redistribute wealth as a means to reiterate Sophie's kindness. This is hardly helpful to an already crowded plot, but with everything so easily solvable Robards Thompson should be able to fix Savannah, bring a killer to justice, wed Sophie to Luc, give the serfs a decent wage and bring democracy to St. Michel, thus abolishing the Monarchy and allowing Sophie the quiet married life she always wanted. As always, Bewildered Heart reads on, endeavouring against our better judgement to find out what we already know.

“Most women would trade their soul for the chance to don a title and the crown jewels”

What with all that has been happening these last jam-packed months Bewildered Heart almost forgot there was the second in a Special Moments Two-in-One to read. After the misanthropic joy of Once Upon a Wedding what would its complimentary companion offer to counter-balance the romance, comedy, self-employment and bourgeois-bashing of Stacy Connelly's modern fairytale? Would there be dark dramas and the glorification of consumerism, or would Nancy Robards Thompson fail to subvert convention with a contrived tale of secret identities to the backdrop of resplendent luxury? With a title such as Accidental Princess that is anybody's guess, but now, with the initial three chapters stared at and understood, Bewildered Heart can ascertain in which direction the life of one struggling single mother is headed. Why are there are so many accidental princesses wandering the world of romance fiction nowadays? Is it because there are so many intentional princes without brides?

Where more suitable to learn such answers to such questions than with the potted history of a fictional royal family from a fictional island that kind of exists. In the world of Thompson's cursory research St. Michel is an independent Mediterranean island overseen by the powerful, albeit fictional, King Bertrand. Decades ago his eldest daughter had fallen for the glamorous, albeit fictional, rock star Nick Morrison. Facing scandal Bertrand had forced Princess Sylvie to give birth to her baby in a fictional country not dissimilar to France named France, before sending the child away to the United States to grow up in obscurity. Shortly thereafter, Sylvie and Nick had attempted a family reconciliation only to perish in a plane crash. Later Princess Celine died in a road accident and her brother, Prince Thibault, lost his life in a diving disaster further hence. Now, in whichever fictional year the novel takes place in, Prince Antoine, wife Leanna, children and assorted guards have met their fates in a tragic fire. For the somehow still employed head of security Luc Lejardin either the House of Founteneau is cursed or an ageing procrastinator has been murdering the King's offspring until none remained.

Meanwhile, in a small town in North Carolina Sophie Baldwin has taken her office's Dress Down Friday to heart by going to work as a jar of mustard. What with her costume and irritable daughter Savannah to worry about it is no surprise Sophie turns up twenty minutes late for her Social Services desk job. While her completely reasonable boss takes these numerous breaches of contract with patient good humour Sophie is stunned by the bitchiness of her superior. After suggesting a subplot involving Laura Hastings that may well be forgotten about Sophie is called home by her frantic daughter with news of a French invasion. When she arrives she discovers a very handsome foreigner on her doorstep, the spitting image, in fact, of actor Oliver Martinez, because Thompson finds describing things tiresome. There Sophie hears the news that every women longs to hear, that she is the secret love child of an European royal dynasty and must be whisked away to a life of idle indulgence, castles, sea, sun and serfs.

Sensing what sounds like an elaborate and breathlessly well-executed confidence trick Sophie dismisses her so-called parents and the suited bodyguards to panic over finding her fourteen year-old daughter in bed with a tattooed ruffian nicknamed Tick. With problems piling up and only one possible way to solve her every problem in a matter of seconds, Sophie finds the time to ponder how her life became so complicated. As with the majority of divorced single parents, Her Highness was once married and without child. Once Savannah was born the marriage grew apart and one day Frank left for the sunny climes of California and the sun-kissed charms of teenage girls. This may have been the point where Sophie's self-esteem plummeted and she began to closely resemble store-brand condiments. Nevertheless, as infamous ladies man and observant noticer of things Luc Lejardin notices observantly, Sophie Baldwin remains a luminously attractive women with a quite splendid chin. How or why this is possible due to the ravages of time, stress and seasoning, however, is kept mysterious, due to Thompson's insistence that writing about stuff distracts from endless recalling of back-story.

Forward momentum is threatened when Sophie refuses to drop her responsibilities and abscond to an island that her education tells her does not exist. This rejection of regal duties forces King Bertrand himself to fly all the way from nowhere to a private airport near Washington D.C. in a desperate bid to keep the world's media from questioning his unexpected visit. Somewhat presumptuously this is where Chapter Three concludes, leaving the reader with the barest understanding of character motivations and story development and only the slightest inclination to begin Chapter Four. As contemporary twists on classic fairytale tropes go, Accidental Princess is certainly an improvement on the faux-Cinderella generics of Once Upon a Wedding. Sophie Baldwin is portrayed as an unlikely woman for picturebook romance, having been cast aside by one husband, dismissed by her daughter, criticised at work and constantly mocked by herself as a frumpy, pale imitation of her youthful loveliness. Only an idealised Gallic Adonis seems to have the ability to see through all visible evidence to the sexually alluring creature lurking beneath.

There are a handful of minor obstacles for the couple to overcome before they can rule a fictional country, however, yet most of these troubles can be fixed through vocabulary-updating. Savannah's ungrateful attitude and worrying misstep of scantily-clad bed-sharing were resolved during a mother daughter heart-to-heart discussion Thompson decided against writing. Still, any additional fears of Savannah and Tick's blossoming romance can be handled by a stepdad well-versed in gunplay and martial arts. The overwhelming concern, at least for Luc, is his own family's reputation, destroyed by his late father's scheming second wife. How could a man tasked with protecting a family, now mostly dead, who bears the disgraced and hard to pronounce Lejardin name marry into the House of Founteneau? Naturally, this conundrum can be solved by all parties acting reasonably, but in the land of Mills & Boon it usually requires two hundred pages of shoe-shuffling and sex before this decision is reached. Most importantly, of course, there is the small matter of a serial killer on the loose, who takes up to ten years to meticulously orchestrate fatal mishaps? In eight years time might Sophie and Savannah board a train, switch on a kettle or light a cigarette in a seemingly well-ventilated room and could Luc forgive himself for their untimely demises as easily as he shrugged off the others?

Much will depend on how Thompson wishes to play with the tropes of the genre. The damsel-in-distress and protector romance is something of a worn-out archetype, and the predictable introduction of single parent with troubled child expected of Special Moments does little to reinvigorate the formula. There are possibilities for originality, not least Sophie's commitment to her country, work and family, and thus a rejection of patriarchal pressure to submit to the princess fantasy. Do the glimpses of Mary Matthews, Mr. Carlo and Laura suggest an alternative direction for the novel? Will Luc prove a true twenty-first century hero by staying in North Carolina and fighting for the woman he loves on her terms? This is plausible, but highly unlikely for a book entitled Accidental Princess, just as it appeared improbable that Once Upon a Wedding would end with Kelsey prioritising her business over a dreamy man wearing jeans. No doubt circumstance and luck will allow Sophie to achieve all of her most fantastical dreams without sacrifice, as all heroines should, thus fulfilling the publisher's mantra that what makes Mills & Boon successful is what makes story-telling amateurish.