I’ve never read one of his bestsellers, so there was nothing for it, I had to start one.
I had the awful experience of staying in a perfectly nice BandB last week in deepest darkest Sussex, only awful because as I climbed into bed, I realised that I’d forgotten my kindle.
Now, this might not seem so terrible to some, but to the readers amongst us, well, you can imagine the horror.
I cannot sleep unless I read, no matter how tired, or late the hour, a few pages at the very least are required see me to the land of nod.
The only book in the room was Sydney Sheldon. Now, I’ve never read one of his bestsellers, so there was nothing for it, I had to start one.
Hmm. Well, far be it from me to doubt the popularity of his books, but, my goodness they’re a bit daft.
This one concerns Alexia DeVere, the unlikely Home Secretary of the UK and her doting, wealthy husband, Teddy. She has more secrets than the gossip columns of Hello!
For a start she’s American and was born Toni Galetti (she fakes an ID card and whisks herself off to the UK and marries a Lord) blackmail, dead bodies and attempts on her life litter the pages like confetti.
I’d love to tell you that I was a convert and spent the night feverishly turning the pages, but I didn’t. Millions of books have been sold, but then, someone once wisely said, "You never get rich by underestimating the taste of the general public".