Read this book.
When an obnoxious stage actor needs a boost to his reputation which will both encourage business and improve his public standing, his costar is selected as just the right woman to be able to put up with him for the media’s gratification while secretly being rewarded with money for her charity at the same time.
There are several ways an author can reform an asshat, but a partner who gives as good as he/she gets is the most fun, as is a reverse Taming of the Shrew. Starring together in a West End play in contemporary London, the hero and heroine are both talented and successful. He is higher up the ladder than she, but as a theatre purist whose aspirations of influence in the arts are in conflict with his complete and utter inability to suffer fools gladly, he is in a spot of bother. Richard is rich, insanely talented, gorgeous and, as the saying goes, difficult. Lainie is droll, sharp, and sincere. They spar their way to a genuine, romantic relationship without sacrificing the arch by-play that makes them so enjoyable to begin with.
I will not be the only one reviewing this first book from Lucy Parker, nor will I be the only person encouraging you to buy it. With this novel, Parker has arrived on my “fingers crossed for huge potential” list. Her writing is fresh and sublimely funny and her talent for wry asides and wonderful banter will take her far. Admittedly, Act Like It does fall back on a couple of tropes to get the job done, but with prose this witty who cares?
Having said all I need to, I’m just going to regale my ones of readers with some select quotations. (Speaking of which, Richard quotes my favourite line of all time, in fact it’s the tagline for my blog, to Lainie. I screamed like a Beatles fan at Shea Stadium.)
You make Mr. Darcy look like the poster child for low self-esteem.
I wouldn’t have to lose my temper if people weren’t such morons.
Lynette looked as though a few silent prayers for patience were taking place behind her bland expression.
…he was quite gracious with her niece Emily, although clearly uncomfortable with – well, humans, really.