I hate getting books for Christmas in general because I’m such a mood reader, and I’ve plastered a fake smile on my face many a time and repeated internally ‘Its the thought that counts.’ as I unwrap a book I will not read.
But the worst one by far, given to me by my own Mother , who I know loves me, when I was fourteen years old! was >!Men are from Mars Women are from Venus.!< I am sitting there horrified thinking what is she trying to tell me? As my sisters are flat on the floor laughing to the point of puking. We eventually came to the conclusion she just saw an attractive cover on a bestseller table and grabbed it. Love to know your terrible gift stories.
The Horsewoman by James Patterson and Mike Lupica. My parents know I love horses and like thrillers, so this seemed a perfect fit, right? Wrong! The writing was just so damn awful, reading it was painful. And thrilling it most certainly was not. I found myself utterly baffled that it ever found its way into being actually published.