As those who know me realise, my thought processes can be firmly on the smutty side, but they're positively virginal when compared to Kathy Lette's. I wasn't going to admit to my first piece of holiday reading having deluded myself in believing that my blog needed a more cultured, upmarket feel. But Louis' reaction to my choice of book was just too amusing not to be shared.
I'd finished reading this modern day bodice ripper and marvelling about how someone, seemingly in their forties, had the energy to perform complex sexual stunts with about twenty different lovers in a short space of time. Even if she was on a mission to take revenge on a philandering husband., there must be something in the Metropolitan water system because life definitely ain't like that in rural Devon. The book was just about to go back on the shelf at the back of the van when Louis saw the title which he annunciated in his clearest reading voice." How...to...Kill.. Your...Husband!"
His sharp little eyes also took in the large knife held by the woman on the cover. Grabbing the book, he barred my way to Mr Lovelygrey and, holding the cutlery drawer firmly shut, exclaimed, "Dad! Watch out! Look what she's reading!"
Anyway, as I made clear to Louis, this book is a novel NOT an instruction manual, although I do admit that the method by which the wayward villain is finally dispatched is inspired. And perhaps, when I'm on holiday in a motorhome, ideas about sophisication should go firmly out of its perspex picture window!