Friends, I’m reading Engaged to London’s Wildest Billionaire by Kali Anthony. Thank you, Kali Anthony, because I’m enjoying it! Lance is the bad boy. Sara’s a survivor whose parents are still trying to emotionally and physically control her. And they want to marry her off. Again. To a guy no one should trust. Again.
The strategy? A scandalous engagement setup with “London’s wildest billionaire” Lance Astill! The blurb on the back of the book reads, “In the words of the devil himself: ‘Scandal I can do…’”
Drumroll! Racing heartbeat! Who is this BAD APPLE?
Hold on a tick. Once you get reading, Lance Astill actually seems like quite a nice guy. Solid, really. Got a conscience. Hates what he did to his sister when he didn’t save her from a forced marriage. Allows Sara to hide from the baddies in his closet without giving her up. So far? Pretty darn tootin’ solid, ethics-wise.
But of course, I’m only partway through the book….
Duck: Give away the ending and I’ll raise the grubby underside of my left flipper. Okay. Thank you.
In my twenties, I taught literacy and drama quite a few “bad boys.” In fact, I got a rep for being really good with bad boys—so much so that, before I left the position, there was a rumor that I would soon be promoted to a new role. It didn’t have an official title, but it was basically “senior teacher in charge of how to teach bad boys.”
No, really.
In my last lesson with D, he refused to leave at the end. He was still one of the most challenging teens in the class, but we had a relationship. So, here he was on the last day, using his lunch break to sit in his chair and say, “I’m not going anywhere. Not until you stay.”
I explained that I couldn’t stay. I really needed to leave to look after myself. At that point, D began to cry. “But you’re the only teacher who likes me. No one else does. Everyone else says I’m bad. No one sees that I try.”
He’d been a pain to teach in some ways. Always out of his seat, distracting someone, making someone else laugh, or erupting into a fight. But I’d stood strong with him. We’d worked it through.
He wasn’t easy. But in no way was that kid a bad boy.
And I suppose that’s what Engaged to London’s Wildest Billionaire is saying too. Love isn’t only there for the golden kids who sit in their seats, do their work, ace their tests, and smile. Because behind every bad boy is a sad story. D, for instance, struggled with learning difficulties. Some of his unruly behavior was just a distraction so he didn’t have to try and read. (But you should have seen this 15 year-old sitting peacefully in his seat quietly reading The Cat In The Hat! Beyond adorable!)
Duck: You can’t just go mentioning cats everywhere. Did you know they EAT DUCKS?
So, I’m open to Lance Astill, bad boy extraordinaire. And even if he holds up a bank, clonks some innocent over the head, or refuses to pay his hardworking staff—and I doubt he does any of this—I’ll still read on.
Because, and I say this as a survivor of abuse as well as a writer of fiction, there are some very dangerous people in this world, but few folks are really “the devil himself.”
Makes for a fun blurb though, doesn’t it?
Romancey Pants 