No one who had seen me in my infancy, childhood, pre-teen years, or even last week would have thought I was born to be a heroine. But, surely, every girl got to be the heroine of her own story. And I was searching for what every Janeite with minimal pounds a year was; a hero to share my story. The only problem was, I was the epitome of that meme. I honest to goodness did not blame Disney for my unrealistic expectations of men. I had Jane to blame. It was bad enough Granny Meg and I spent my formative years romanticising gentlemen like Darcy and Tilney, the world of TV then decided that Regency was hot shit and I had all new gentlemen to make me swoon. There was a brief flirtation with Sidney Parker. I mean, that arse. How could you not? But then...then I was ruined for all men, at the ripe old age of seventeen, for the rest of my life. Hello, Anthony Bridgerton. There was not a thing that man could do or say that would not have me drooling. Move over Darcy, there's a new standard in town. A standard that Summerville High School's resident bad boy suddenly plans to surpass. Penn Franklin had always been of the look but don't touch variety. And, now he's taken a leaf out of every Regency man's playbook, just looking is becoming far too dangerous. Lingering glances, passionate words, and nothing but the promise of a touch. What's a girl to do when the bad boy talks Regency dirty? Pray to our Lady Jane that she can resist him and, when she can't, that he won't break her heart.