Hey, I read good stuff, too. Austen, Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Faulkner, Salinger are represented in my stacks. But I do own several books on killers and Hollywood scandals. How did I start down this wayward reading path? As a girl, I devoured Nancy Drew books. From those, I graduated to Agatha Christie. And from there, Stephen King. I guess you could say King's books provided a gateway to the macabre world of true crime.
A movie buff since my teens, I've always loved reading Hollywood biographies--especially those about stars from the studio years. Movie stars of today aren't nearly as secretive (or intriguing) as their 1930s-1950s counterparts, yet I'm still
You may find my taste in books ... ahem ... distasteful; however, reading about real-life murders and sordid tales of Hollywood doesn't make me a bad person. Fifty Shades of Grey is the best-selling book of all time in the U.K. If you are what you read, Britain must be overrun with sex fiends.
Thank goodness Hubs saw past my book collection when we met. Our reading preferences aren't exactly in sync. He owns Power Ambition Glory by Steve Forbes. I own Malcolm Forbes's They Went That-A-Way, which details how famous people died. He's read How to Win Friends and Influence People. I've read Friends Who Kill Friends. I suppose my reading habits could've scared Hubs off, but he stuck around and even lived to tell about it.
While I sometimes choose to read about psycho killers and the scandalous lifestyles of the rich and famous, I'm harmless. So, don't judge me by my book covers. If you do, just remember: I've read enough true crime books to know how to make your death look accidental.
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