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Informationen zum Autor By day, Nikki Payne is a curious tech anthropologist asking the right questions to deliver better digital services. By night, she dreams of ways to subvert canon literature. She's a member of Smut U, a premium feminist writing collective, and is a cat lady with no cats. Klappentext A Phenomenal Book Club pick for November 2022! A woman goes head-to-head with the CEO of a corporation threatening to destroy her neighborhood in this fresh and modern retelling of Pride and Prejudice by debut author Nikki Payne. Liza B.—the only DJ who gives a jam—wants to take her neighborhood back from the soulless property developer dropping unaffordable condos on every street corner in DC. But her planned protest at a corporate event takes a turn after she mistakes the smoldering-hot CEO for the waitstaff. When they go toe-to-toe, the sparks fly—but her impossible-to-ignore family thwarts her every move. Liza wants Dorsey Fitzgerald out of her hood, but she’ll settle for getting him out of her head. At first, Dorsey writes off Liza Bennett as more interested in performing outrage than acting on it. As the adopted Filipino son of a wealthy white family, he’s always felt a bit out of place and knows a fraud when he sees one. But when Liza’s protest results in a viral meme, their lives are turned upside down, and Dorsey comes to realize this irresistible revolutionary is the most real woman he’s ever met. Leseprobe Man Shortage A red light blipped on the top left of the control board. Liza B. had a caller. "Hello and good evening. You are live with Liza B., the only DJ who gives a jam. Tell me, what's on your mind . . ." The producer mouthed a name to her. ". . . Keisha?" "Girl, we are in a man shortage. I'm broke! I can't be buying my own steaks," a cheery woman's voice buzzed over Liza's earphones. Liza pressed a flashing orange button on the control board and slid the dial all the way to the top. This was her pulpit. Instead of airbrushed paintings of blond Jesus, posters of Afrobeat stars, Punjabi crooners, K-pop idols, and reggaeton bad boys competed for space on the cork wall of the small booth. Instead of scripture, someone had graffitied MegaRadio Sux on the table. Her parishioners called in with their "confessions" and she gave them the good word. She wasn't saving orphans in Soweto like she always imagined, but it was a kind of service to the community. "It is a man drought, girl," Liza agreed. "What do you plan to do about it?" "You know those new buildings that they're putting up at Netherfield Court?" "You mean the overpriced luxury apartments that will force us out of our neighborhood and change the fabric of DC forever?" Liza said. "Um . . . yeah, those . . ." Keisha stammered. "Anyway, there are a lot of men working construction. I'm just going to walk past there in my shortest shorts!" Liza remembered why she liked this job so much. "So they can catcall you? Whoop and holler? What are you getting out of this deal?" Liza pressed. "Do I need to spell it out, Alizé Bennett?" The woman dragged her whole government name out like an old boot. Being named after an alcoholic drink popular in the nineties was not a fact Liza wanted broadcast across her nation's capital. She had job applications floating around. "That's Liza B. Leesa with a Z to you." She kept her name explanations ready. People saw a Z in your name and lost their damn minds. She could not count how many times she had been called "Lizard" with a straight face. "Well, Liza B., I'm a woman. I have needs." "Excuse me, I thought it's a kind of truth universally acknowledged that every broke woman wants a rich man, not just vitamin D!" "Times are changing, honey," Keisha told her. "The construction company is having a get-together over at Netherfield. Will the radio station be th...
