One of the more troubling aspects of having your manuscript published by Mills & Boon is how the book will be treated by the savvy marketing team behind the release. Your Bridget Jones' chick-lit-lite story may be entitled something ghastly, such as Bedded at the Billionaire's Convenience, while your farcical sitcom plot may be twisted by the blurb to sound like sexist soft-core porn, and your quirky, self-depreciating heroine may be described as 'frumpy' and then represented on the cover by a slender, tanned model in a skimpy pink negligee. Without knowing the background behind Bedded at the Billionaire's Convenience, this misappropriation of facts appears to be what has happened to Cathy Williams, the author of a book now known as Bedded at the Billionaire's Convenience. Our first piece of evidence is the blurb, reading thus: "Billionaire Pierre Newman needs a fiancée - and fast! Frumpy, innocent Georgie is the complete opposite of the high-society women he usually has at his beck and call, but she will have to do!"
At the Mills & Boon offices this might have sounded terrific and a lot like every Modern Romance where a ruthless billionaire ruthlessly exploits a hard-working career woman into sleeping with him. The title even uses indicative words such as billionaire, bedded and convenience, while the tag-line, 'Like Prostitution, but Romantic!' only emboldens the illusion. However, nothing from the blurb actually takes place within the pages of the first three chapters, so let us instead focus on what Cathy Williams intended, and then wrote and then haphazardly typed with numerous grammatical errors. Georgie is a primary school teacher, scatter-brained and annoying, her oddities only exemplified by the strange manner in which she dresses. Her beau, for the purposes of this story, is Pierre Christophe Newman, billionaire, who snootily dismisses Georgie as a kook, based upon the use of layers and colours in her wardrobe choices and her keeping of chickens in the garden of her Devon home. Pierre escaped the claustrophobic stranglehold of Devon and sought the freedom of the financial industry in London, where he has made his fortune and reputation as a ruthless billionaire.
Arriving disorganised and panic-stricken on the pavements of the capital Georgie finds Pierre half-naked and grumpy at his exclusive gymnasium. She has something very important to tell the boy she grew up with and watch as he morphed into the man she now openly detests. While Pierre demands she tell him quickly, because he has emails to send and women to sleep with, the author stretches a five second conversation across the entirety of the opening chapter, much to the displeasure of the reader and the incredibility of the characters. For the cliff-hanger final sentence Georgie reveals the damning admission, she and Pierre are, in fact, engaged! Goodness no!, Pierre yells, you're so dowdy and weird and I'm a gorgeous, powerful billionaire with long, beautiful eyelashes, piercing blue eyes, a full head of thick, black hair and swarthy skin. Pierre, though immodest, has a point and ruthlessly insists Georgie explain the absurd situation which was clearly contrived for a suitable twist to end the chapter on.
Into chapter two and it turns out, much to the reader's continuing frustration, that there is no engagement. Georgie fabricated the whole thing to cheer up Pierre's mother, Didi, who fears Pierre's priorities are in the wrong place. Didi is like a mother to Georgie, she having lost her parents in a car crash years before, and the old lady's melancholy and endless sleeping have become a cause for concern. Yet the real matter of worry is Didi's erstwhile son, who has dedicated his life to success and happiness, and what kind of mother would Didi be if she sat idly by and allowed that to occur? Pierre argues that without his fortune he never would have been able to pay off Didi and her late husband's huge debts. Good point, Pierre, but what about this string of beautiful, intelligent women you've been dating, who you enjoy the company of and have much in common with? Surely they're not for you. Shouldn't you instead settle down with the complete antithesis of everything you value and believe in, a woman you have always hated and been irritated by and never found attractive and who, in turn, also hates you and everything you hold dear? Well, you're in luck, because this very woman has told your mother that you've been dating for eight months, which has given her a new lease of life, and admitting the truth now would probably kill the geriatric hag off for good.
Pierre, inexplicably, is convinced by Georgie's intentions and solid reasoning, and so at the next available weekend he heads down to Devon to see his mother and further elaborate on the charade. And with that bombshell the third chapter ends and the reader has the much-needed opportunity to stare incredulously at the front cover and shake their head. What on earth is Bedded at the Billionaire's Convenience? Why are none of the characters convincing, why is the dialogue so atrocious and how has it taken this long to explain nothing? Cathy Williams wisely keeps her distance from the thought processes of Georgie, largely because Georgie seems incapable of logical thought. Instead, the hefty gaps of emotionally-expository filler between interminable conversation are spent following Pierre's increasing agitation, leading the reader to the conclusion he is our protagonist and impelling influence. However, soon enough we find ourselves questioning his sanity as well, allowing the imaginary stack of cards to collapse under the weight of its own delusion. While the lady does protest too much over her obvious attraction to the attractive billionaire with much of his own hair and wonderful eyelashes, Pierre's utter contempt for Georgie and his antipathy towards his mother make his actions all the more unaccountable and unapologetically contrived.
Despite all this, of course, there are a number of highlights to the book thus far. Unlike many previous attempts at Modern Romance the romance part has a great many hurdles to clear before a happy life together is a guarantee. There is no happy ending in sight for Georgie and Pierre, unless they continue to enjoy their happy lives many miles away from each other. Cathy Williams has her work cut out to make the reader believe in this couple's burgeoning love, as already a third of the way into the word count they still seethe hatred through gritted teeth. No matter, of course, because not a word of the book has been believable thus far, so why bother making the finale convincing? Furthermore, the set-up is genuinely enticing, if you ignore the multitude of narrative faults. A girl lies to a senile old woman, concocting a relationship with the biddy's estranged son to galvanize both their dreary, lonesome lives. Once the façade loses muster, however, the girl must go to extreme lengths to maintain the illusion, including tracking down and falling in love with the son. In another writer's fingers there is great potential to the concept, despite the obvious comparisons with nearly every romantic comedy Hollywood has ever produced. However, due to the lightweight structure of a Mills & Boon the formula prohibits the best ambitions one might have for the material.
Pierre must be a strikingly gorgeous and intimidating billionaire, and he and the protagonist must share a history, leaving out the girl's possible idealistic notions of the man she knows only from her imagination. Didi must not be decrepit, but rather filled to over-flowing with sound vigour, unconditional love and occasional wisecracks, even though we must believe her gullible enough, or wily enough, to play along. Meanwhile, Georgie must be the same useless, giggling idiot all romantic heroines are, waiting for a rich, strong man to save her from her feminine trials, such as teaching, caring for old people and being single. As the story develops therefore, we hope to see Pierre's arc unfold from content, wealthy man of taste and style to betrothed husk, devoid of spirit and completely different in outlook, philosophy and personality. Georgie, on the other hand, will not change from her many faults, and will be rewarded with a husband, money and the family she never knew. Didi, we can only hope, shall slowly die, losing her ability to comprehend and perform simple tasks, watched on with horrified expressions by her children, to give the novel some much-needed visceral clout.
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