Well, that was fun - "Assistant to the Villain"

Madie's Margins

Having read “Assistant to the Villain” by Hannah Nicole Maehrer, I can confidently say reading this book is an experience, to say the least.

As I lovingly described it to the friend who recommended this book in the first place, this book is “Twilight” if “Twilight” was good–cute, funny and unserious. We have The Villain, a melodramatic bad boy who has a thriving torture chamber but also likes his coffee with copious amounts of sugar. We also have Evie, a clumsy sunshine girl who is only mildly inconvenienced by severed heads rather than truly bothered by them. We have a diverse cast of amusing side characters, including:

Rebecca, the stuffy head of the HR department

Tatianna, a magic healer who wears pink and accepts pay in gossip

Blade, a flirty dragon trainer who lied on his resume and has exactly zero qualifications

Edwin, an Ogre who likes pastry making

Kingsley, The Villain’s best friend who just so happens to be a frog.

I very rarely read romance novels, unless they’re heavily diluted with adventure, science fiction, history or some other strong genre. I struggle when the focal point of a story is romance, especially when it’s the slow burn of all slow burns. I likely wouldn’t have picked up this book if it hadn’t been repeatedly suggested to me. By my own logic, I should not have liked this book. I am not a BookTok girlie. I do not like reading romance.

However, I do like having fun, and this book did not disappoint in that category.

I was kicking my feet. I was giggling. I couldn’t even contain myself with the near-concerning levels of giddiness the book inspired.

The premise is pretty simple: a kind and naive girl named Evie Sage is wandering around the woods when she runs into The Villain–who we later learn is named Trystan with a Y for some reason. Evie ends up as, you guessed it, the assistant to The Villain. Massacre Manor functions as a modern-day office with a little extra whimsy thrown in. It’s all kind of dumb, but it is so entertaining.

The story is told in third person with a mix of POVs from Evie and The Villain. The writing style is campy, broken up by some very interesting inner monologues and mantras. “Don’t *Blank*, Evie!” is the most common structure, with the blank typically being filled with some version of “Don’t flirt with the boss,” “Don’t look at the boss’s V-neck,” or “Don’t think about kissing the boss.” The Villain’s thought process is more on the lines of “I’m wicked and bloodthirsty, and I like to hang severed heads in the rafters, why do I think Evie is cute? Oh no, what if Evie thinks I’m cute? She can’t think I’m cute, I’m a villain!” and I love that for him, even though his emotional constipation drives me up the wall.

Okay, so we talked about how funny the book was , then we talked about how it was funny, and then, for a change of pace, I told you how funny the book was, am I missing anything?

Oh, yeah! The romance! The main aspect of this book!

I do ship Evie and The Villain. In reality, this wouldn’t be the healthiest relationship, given the power imbalance of a boss and his employee and the minor detail that The Villain is, well, a villain, but in the context of this silly fictional world, I think they have good chemistry and I am rooting for them, if The Villain ever snaps out of the melodramatics. There’s just something so compelling when opposites attract. It may be troupe-y, but it’s hard not to ship grumpy with sunshine.

This book is a far cry from my typical loved books, which typically inspire deep reflection and active thinking. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m a bit pretentious, and if I can’t engage in a deep philosophical discussion after reading a book, what’s the point? After reading “Assistant to the Villain,” I’m not staring off into the distance, forever changed, but that doesn’t make it unworthy of my time. This book was the McDonald’s of the literary world, not the most fulfilling, but lovable, iconic and more enjoyable than it should be. What is life if you never eat junk food, and what is reading if you never indulge in something a little silly and a lot of fun?

I would like to send you off with one of Evie Sage’s most profound and moving statements. A shocking truth that we should all bear witness to before going about our days: “Women? Have legs? Alert the town crier!” Go and contemplate. I’ll see you next week.

Rating: 4.5/5