Nearly sixteen and sheltered for much of her life by two overprotective guardians, Mirabelle Lively decides to take destiny into her own hands by running away from home and to Beau Rivage, the site of her parents' deaths...and the place she has been strictly forbidden never to go. When Mirabelle arrives in Beau Rivage, she catches the attention of two brothers -- one prickly and hostile, the other kind and welcoming -- and finds herself caught up in the strange workings of a place she believes to be ordinary when it's anything but.

Honestly, I don't know how someone who's not familiar with the deeper themes of fairy tales (beyond the glossy veneer of Disney movie retellings and to the heart and bone of the original darker tales) will react to Sarah Cross's sophomore novel, Kill Me Softly. I could see many people becoming bored or disinterested in the story because they believe it's the "same old, same old" thing: untried and naive heroine who finds herself with a strange new destiny, check; the jerky boy who warns her to stay the hell away and who's not afraid to use force to do it, check; the understanding guy who swoops in and acts as the hero to the heroine's damsel-in-distress, check; the stirrings of romantic feelings in the span of hours and days instead of weeks and months, check; and a seeming love triangle in the making to stir up a lot of angst and drama among the characters, check. You want to believe that's all it is, don't you?

Well, I'm here to say, "Not so fast."

The preface alone promises that you shouldn't trust everything on the surface level:

Birthdays were wretched, delicious things when you lived in Beau Rivage. The clocks struck midnight, and presents gave way to magic.

Curses bloomed. [...]

Girls became victims and heroines.

Boys became lovers and murderers.

And sometimes . . . they became both.

Just like a true fairy tale, Kill Me Softly is so much more than what the surface would have you expect, and it is as much a mish-mash of fairy tale characters and themes as it is an examination and sometimes a deconstruction of many common fairy tale elements. What if you're locked into a fate you can't control? What if you try to fight against it, only to be forced into playing out your destiny by outside forces? What would that do to a person? Would you dread the inevitable, would you embrace your role wholeheartedly...or would you try to forge your own fate even though doing so might end up being pointless and fruitless?

I'm not going to lie: some readers are going to moan and groan as they follow Mirabelle, the protagonist. Why? One word: insta!love. (Cue groans all around.) I get it, really, since I'm usually the first on the "SAY NO TO INSTA!LOVE" train. But you know what? Even though Mira herself isn't aware of all the dangers of her insta!love journey, Sarah Cross as the writer obviously is. All the clues are there that Mira is thinking with the rose-colored glasses of infatuation for much of the story as she naively falls under the illusion of a "relationship." No reader is meant to believe that the "love" she finds is desirable. Instead, we're all meant to shake our heads in concern and pity as Mira ultimately stumbles into territory she isn't prepared to face. In truth, I couldn't help but be reminded of some of Angela Carter's fairy tale retellings as I read Mira's (sometimes upsetting, sometimes heartbreaking) story.

To focus merely on Mira and the insta!love, however, slightly takes away from the messages and themes of the story itself. I love that Cross questions the workings of fate and "true love" in the wrappings of fairy tale destinies. You have a Snow White who looks in the mirror every day and hates being told, "You're beautiful," because her growing beauty spells the quickening pace of her story becoming reality; you have a Beauty who knows who her Beast will be and loathes the very idea of saving him from himself; and you have a prince who has waited for his princess all his life even though he seems more interested in "playing the hero" than in hearing whether or not his princess wants him the same way. Through Mira's narrative, Cross explores all these stories and more and shows them in their good lights -- and their bad.

Aside from how much food-for-thought this novel gave me (since I love fairy tales and exploring their themes), I thoroughly enjoyed Kill Me Softly. I smiled as I read and imagined certain scenes; I laughed at the witty banter and interplay among the characters; I groaned as scenes developed in ways I hadn't quite anticipated or wanted; and I choked up during a few scenes, especially towards the end when -- just like in a real fairy tale -- all hope seemed to have been lost and heartbreak assured. It was the kind of reading experience that embraced me and wouldn't let me go until I had finished.

Overall, my verdict is, quite simply, that I loved Kill Me Softly, flaws and all. I don't know how other readers will fare with it, but I would recommend it to fairy-tale enthusiasts (probably the same ones who are enjoying ABC's Once Upon a Time at the moment). And I can only hope that Sarah Cross will revisit Beau Rivage in subsequent novels and follow other characters in their attempts to change their fairy-tale fates.

(Note: I received an advanced copy of this book from the publisher through NetGalley.)