Every so often I go on a kick of reading those commercial romances about driven young women published in the 1980s that are sometimes called bonkbusters. You must admit they are rather addictive in their escapist nature and their pulpy plots. It annoys me when people dismiss them as ‘trashy,’ as though they have to make excuses for not reading Dickens or whoever all the time. There’s still good writing there- and I think that’s especially true when it comes to Judith Krantz. Mistral’s Daughter […]