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I'm stopping this book at page 100. 4 chapters are a wealthy gasbag doing what villains in B movies do, namely drone on ad nauseam about their motivation for committing horrible crimes. This villain in real life would feel no need to justify his actions. After which Chapter 11 (of 52!) is about nothing more than the hero going out to the tip of Long Island and having sex with his wife.
It's hard to imagine that the remaining 416 pages won't be similarly filled with additional blather and gratuitous, boring sex scenes no one needs to read about.
I now am beginning to understand why I have avoided his books. Thank god I got it at a thrift store.
It's hard to imagine that the remaining 416 pages won't be similarly filled with additional blather and gratuitous, boring sex scenes no one needs to read about.
I now am beginning to understand why I have avoided his books. Thank god I got it at a thrift store.