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June 9, 2015



I won this book on Jackie Collins website.

I would like to thank Jackie Collins for sending me this book and signing it for me.

I enjoyed every single page of Confessions of a Wild Child, but then again I just love all of Jackie Collins novels.


How did Lucky Santangelo become the kick-ass woman she is today?

Only Jackie Collins can tell

The legend begins.


Who is Lucky Saint? She’s a fifteen year old wild child who discovered her mother’s murdered body floating in the family swimming pool when she was only five years old. She is the daughter of the notorious Gino, who kept her cloistered in their Bel Air mansion ever since. But she is about to discover the world of boys, sex,drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll. And no one can stop her now.
Confessions of a Wild Child
Lucky navigates her teen years from first kisses and brushes with famous older men to attending boarding school and adventuring through exotic Greek islands as Gino, a powerful Vegas hotel owner, struggles to control her. Meanwhile, her brother, Dario, is too scared to tell Gino that he is gay. But fearless Lucky will not be held back by her father or anyone else. Soon she has no choice but to strike out on her own path one that will lead her to become the powerful and charismatic woman that  she was destined to be.
Jackie Collins knows a thing or two about being in the fast lane with her wry sense of humor and spitfire approach.
For all you teenagers out there who crave your freedom and independence. Stay Lucky . . . and only time will tell . . .
Chapter One
How does a girl get through school stuck with the
name Lucky Saint? How does a girl answer questions
about her family when her mom was murdered
and her dad was once an infamous criminal known as
Gino the Ram?
Beats me. But if I have to, then I absolutely can do
it. I’m a Santangelo after all. A freaking survivor of a
major screwed-up childhood. A girl with a shining
Now here I am – a week before my fifteenth birthday
– about to be packed off to L’Evier, which I’m
informed is a very expensive private boarding school in
Switzerland, so I’d better like it or else.
I am totally pissed. My brother, Dario, is totally
pissed. The truth is we’re all we’ve got, and separating
us is simply not fair. Dario is younger than me by eighteen
months, and I’ve always felt that I should look after
He’s sensitive.
I’m not.
He’s artistic.
I’m a tomboy.
Dario likes to paint and read.
I like to kick a football and shoot baskets.
Somehow our roles got reversed.
We live in a huge mausoleum – sorry – I mean
house – in Bel Air, California. A house filled with maids
and housekeepers and tutors and drivers and security
guards. Kind of like a fancy prison compound, only our
backyard features a man-made lake, a tennis court and
an Olympic-size swimming pool. Yeah, my dad has a
ton of money.
Yippee! Luxury. You think?
No way. I’m kind of a loner with very few friends,
’cause my life is not like theirs. My life is controlled by
Daddy Dearest. Gino the Ram. Mister ‘Everything I say
is right, and you’d better listen or else’.
It sucks. I am a prisoner of money and power. A
prisoner of a father who is so paranoid that something
bad will happen to me or Dario that he keeps us more
or less locked up.
So I guess being sent off to boarding school isn’t
such a bad thing. Maybe a modicum of freedom is lurking
in my future.
However, I will miss Dario so much, and believe me
I know he feels the same way.
We’re very different. I resemble Gino with my tangle
of jet-black hair, olive skin, and intense dark eyes,
whereas Dario inherited my mom’s calm blondness.
Yes. I do remember my mom. Beautiful Maria.
Sunny and warm and kind. Sweet-smelling with the
smile of an angel, and the softest skin in the world. She
was the love of my father’s life, even though he’s had
legions of girlfriends since her tragic death. I hate him
for that, it’s so wrong.
I miss my mom so much, I think about her every
day. The problem is that my memories are akin to a
frightening dark nightmare because I am the one who
discovered her naked body floating lifelessly on a lilo in
the family swimming pool – the pool tinged pink with
her blood.
I was five years old, and it’s an image that never
leaves me.
I remember screaming hysterically, and people running
outside to see what was going on.



From → book review

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