Signor Speranza, the self-appointed mayor of Prometto, Italy, wishes he could take back his title. He and his wife, Betta, own a small hotel, inherited from Betta’s parents. But they haven't had any guests for two years, so their taxes are in arrears. The village’s 212 residents are also delinquent in paying their taxes. Even the occasional tourist, taking a wrong turn, has vanished. A dripping pipe on the third floor of the hotel brings the problem to light, so when the Regional Water Commission shows up to make repairs, they demand a payment of 70,000 euros, a monumental amount to the citizens of this tiny dot on the map of Italy.

A payment plan would take care of the matter, but the village is too small to qualify. So unless they can come up with the money in 60 days, the water will be shut off, and the hapless villagers will be resettled who knows where. The café; the bakery; the vacuum repair shop; Sant'Agata, Prometto’s only church; and, worst of all, Signor Maestro’s butcher shop, which employs his 15 sons, will be out of business. There is no money, and Speranza knows it; he keeps the books, and any cash relating to the village would be in the empty safe behind his desk.

"...a tale that will keep you entertained from first page to last. It’s one of the most amusing novels I’ve read in years, which is just what we need in these dark times."

Speranza is a fairly religious man. Will praying to the saints who oversee the well-being of the petitioners be the answer? He turns to The Complete Compendium of Catholic Saints and Blessed or Beatified Persons to plead for guidance; finds St. Vincent, the patron saint of plumbing (more or less); and looks to heaven, praying in earnest.

Thus begins THE PATRON SAINT OF SECOND CHANCES, a tale that will keep you entertained from first page to last. It’s one of the most amusing novels I’ve read in years, which is just what we need in these dark times.

Speranza’s granddaughter, Antonella, is one of those lovely young girls who constantly walks around with a cell phone in her hand, taking selfies or photos of interesting subjects, and posting them on the internet. Since she put up a shot of herself standing next to a poster of Italian heartthrob Dante Rinaldi, her followers are growing daily. What if, she beseeches her grandfather, they could persuade Rinaldi to come to Prometto to make a film? “Movie stars are doing it now,” she declares.

By coincidence, Speranza’s assistant, Smilzo, is a plumber/wannabe playwright and rushes to pen a screenplay. As the story unfolds, I was reminded of some of my favorite farcical movies from past decades --- Chocolat came to mind, with a smidgen of Blazing Saddles tossed in for laughs. And, for my own amusement, there is Nonno Guido (whose mustache and eyebrows resemble his namesake, the family’s nonagenarian great-grandfather), a little dog who stole my heart with his inimitable schnauzer antics.

As the screenplay evolves with kibitzing from each generation, potential doom hovers from above as Speranza consults Don Rocco, the village priest. He doubts the success of the venture, even hinting that Speranza may be lying to the residents, which is a sin.

As each pratfall unfolds, disaster seems inevitable. Yet the villagers step up. Great Grandfather begins to build an outdoor amphitheater, and the least promising of Maestro’s sons auditions for a role in front of Smilzo. Word spreads, Antonella’s followers multiply, and Rinaldi’s agent shows up from America. Strangers are spotted at the local café. Even Don Rocco looks on in wonder.

Quite frankly, I’m hoping for a film adaptation of Christine Simon’s debut novel and doing some imaginary casting of my own. At the very least, my spirits were lifted with every page I read. I have a miniature schnauzer perfect for the part.