For some inexplicable reason I am a sucker for just about anything having to do with the Tudors, and the only reason I read this book was because I was going through withdrawal having seen the final episode of Showtime's cheesy series in which the main characters spent as much time stepping out of their elaborate 16th century costumes in order to hop into bed with one another as they did wearing them. Nevertheless, the series rekindled my love of all things Tudor and so I ended up wandering across this book, which I am almost embarrassed to admit that I read. Usually I'm a little more discriminating about books I read that have to do with this period, and so I could tell from the beginning that the author of this one had taken enormous liberties with the life of Catherine Parr, Henry VIII's last wife. Facts were distorted, dates were confused, important characters eliminated and others invented. Equally unfortunate was the author's tendency to lapse into a writing style that seemed closer to what might be expected between the covers of a romance novel, or the script of a soap opera. And yet I suppose I shouldn't be so critical. After all, I could have put the silly book down any time. Instead I kept right on reading ..right up to this disappointing novel's final melodramatic ending, which I will quote here: "I lift my hand to grasp his, eager to go wherever he leads, down the bright corridor I glimpse behind him, where all is peace and light..." Enough said.
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