As It ends with usthe film adaptation of Colleen Hoover’s best-seller, hit theaters last week, with plot details hinting at a subtle shift in the love story. (I know, I know – some readers insist this story isn’t a love story, but that’s how the book is marketed.) While a high-earning neurosurgeon initially seems like the day’s prize, our heroine eventually finds happiness with a chef who was homeless for a time as a teenager. This twist reflects a broader trend simmering in romance fiction: Maybe billionaires aren’t so sexy after all.
A decade ago, billionaires were the heartthrob of romance novels, with EL James’ Fifty shades of grey Trilogy that makes super-rich Christian Grey the fantasy lover’s choice for millions of readers seeking escape to a world of luxury and indulgence. Grey’s wealth was central to the plot, and he wooed Anastasia, the heroine, with a private helicopter ride, dinners at expensive restaurants, and expensive gifts like a brand new Audi, which readers could enjoy as if they were the recipients. But in recent years, the crushing reality of rising income inequality has made escapist billionaire fantasies unpalatable for many romance readers.
Some of those readers are looking for narratives that challenge or circumvent the traditional rich hero stereotype. These stories might feature characters breaking up corrupt corporate empires, forcing the rich to hand over their money, or skirt the subject by excluding super-rich characters altogether. Titles by authors like Courtney Milan, Cat Sebastian, and Heather Guerre are being shared in Reddit threads by readers complaining about all the billionaires or looking for more socialist romances. New books question the ethics of billionaires, have the heir to a family fortune stand up against his father’s unethical business practices, and (within historical context) have the rich risk their place in society by supporting progressive causes like the abolition of slavery. At least one author is trying to put together an anthology of anti-billionaire romances.
Some of the “anti-billionaire” stories deal with class issues in subtle ways or try to rehabilitate billionaire figures rather than dismantle an unjust system. Nellie Wilson’s Company-mandated holiday romance, but takes a sledgehammer to the status quo. In the novel, published last year, the heroine doesn’t crush on the rich executive – she overthrows him, helped by a scrappy journalist with whom she falls in love in the process. Wilson said she understands why some people like to read romance novels about rich people, but her plot was influenced by her personal dislike of billionaire stories, both in literature and in real life.
“We all have our escapes,” she said. But “I’ve tried reading a few romance novels about billionaires, and it gives me goosebumps.”
A self-published romance novel for which she created marketing materials proclaiming that there are “no ethical billionaires.” Company-mandated holiday romance Wilson has received the highest number of pre-orders of her career. She believes the book will appeal to readers who think billionaire romances are unrealistic and who can’t buy into the fantasy of nonstop luxury.
“Anti-billionaire love stories offer a way to find joy in the everyday and romanticize life’s small, domestic moments. It feels like it’s attainable for all of us, not just for the attention of the one percent,” she said.
Wilson said her upcoming novel Stole my heart also contains anti-capitalist themes. The book focuses on the reclaiming of a small town in Appalachia that is not defined by rich people or what happens in the resorts, but by the workers who live there. Wilson said pre-orders are on track to exceed the Company-mandated holiday romance.
“There’s this idea of writing to suit the market in romance novels,” she said. “Sometimes I feel like I’m writing against the market, but I know there’s an audience for it because I can’t be the only one who feels that way.”
If social issues like racism and class are addressed in romance novels, it’s likely to be by independent authors like Wilson, who are more willing to take risks with popular tropes, according to Steve Ammidown, a historian of the romance genre. Authors outside of traditional publishing have historically been the ones writing books with greater ethnic and sexual diversity, and this willingness to push boundaries often leads to unexpected subgenres finding mainstream success.
“Monster books are a good example,” he said. “They had a very small audience, and then books like Morning Glory Milking Farm somehow exploded and there was a completely different audience there.”
(By the way, Morning Glory Milking Farm has also been described as a romance novel critical of capitalism. The book’s heroine needs a job because of student loans, and her art history degree is of no use to her other than getting her a job on a milking farm. For minotaurs. I’ll leave it to you to imagine where the “milk” comes from.)
Guerre, a romance novelist whose novel Preferential treatment is often recommended to readers looking for something anti-capitalist, said she sees more criticism of wealth in romance novels today than she did 20 years ago when she started reading them. In TreatmentGuerre subverts the typical billionaire romance cliche by having her heroine persuade the wealthy lover to give away his fortune. This kind of narrative shift, Guerre notes, is becoming increasingly common, with many of these stories coming from queer authors and authors of color working outside of traditional publishing.
“Capitalists profit from systems of oppression, and marginalized communities have been having this conversation for a long time,” she said. “That worldview seeps into your writing, whether intentional or not.”
Sebastian, another romance author whose novels are also a go-to for readers interested in anti-capitalism, says she infuses her values into her books and would never write a romance novel about a billionaire. This cliche, she says, has become a shorthand way to let the reader know that money problems will never be an issue again by the end of the story. Most of the time, though, she makes it clear that the couple has access to money to secure the happy ending.
“Money is a source of great anxiety for me and everyone else in this broken system we live in,” she said. “I don’t want to stress myself out, so I make it as gentle as possible for the characters.”
That’s something she does for herself as a writer, but she imagines readers also want to turn their brains off from the stress of paying bills. That can still be done in a way that doesn’t glorify billionaires, she argues.
“I write for people who think capitalism is the problem we’re working with,” she said. “I write for people who hate it here too.”
While some observe a rising tide of anti-capitalist romances, Christine M. Larson, assistant professor of journalism and author of Love in times of self-publishingdoes not believe that this is a new subgenre – and is not sure whether it will succeed. Starting with Jane Austen’s pride and Prejudicewhat Larson calls the “urtext of romance,” the genre has by its nature always dealt with class and social issues.
Women in romance novels, as in real life, are usually less well off economically than men. (Queer stories often still play with class differences, although the lovers in these stories are usually fighting something together, usually homophobia.) Larson says romance novels often offer readers the fantasy of closing this gender wealth gap, usually through financial stability or even wealth, rather than criticizing wealth.
“Many romance readers worry about how they’ll live on one paycheck,” she said. “When we want to have a fantasy, it’s often about imagining more financial stability. Romance novels provide that fantasy space, a sandbox where we can imagine a different world.”
This perspective suggests that truly anti-capitalist romance novels might be at odds with the genre’s escapist function. Or, as Larson puts it, “It’s really, really fun to imagine flying to Ibiza on a private jet.”
Larson even sees more and more billionaire stories emerging in this genre – but this time women have the oversized bank accounts, as in Lucy Scores Bluewater billionaires Series and Alisha Rais The right swipeBut Larson points out that even many romance novels about billionaires contain a critique of the rich, such as the portrayal of Mr. Darcy in pride and Prejudice as too stiff and formal, or Lauren Asher’s The small print portrays the hero Rowan Kane as selfish, cold and rude.
“Usually the billionaire is sad, tormented, desperately alone, has some weird quirk or is socially isolated,” she said. “And usually the heroine has friends and family, even if she’s not from a wealthy family, and then she’s able to make him more human and less of an asshole.”
Still, some readers wish for a future with more books where the love story doesn’t end with a billionaire or have to redeem him. Satoria Ray, who runs a TikTok account focused on her reading journey, posted an excited video when she found out about it Company-mandated holiday romanceWilson’s book last year. It opened her eyes to the existence of anti-capitalist romanticism and spurred her to seek out more works in this emerging subgenre.
Ray says that despite their reputation as escapist, non-serious literature, romance novels are an ideal genre for exploring complex themes like anti-capitalism and racism. She argues that the unique structure of romance novels, with love at their core and everything working out in the end, offers a particular advantage.
“It’s the only genre where a happy ending is guaranteed,” she said. “That gives a lot of security to explore themes that can be quite difficult, but to do so in a way that is still fun for Reader.”
