The system will only let me give this book one star, but I'm actually giving it zero.
I usually love a big, fat family saga, but this is beyond terrible. It's an attempt to switch the story of the fight for the English throne during the Wars of the Roses to the Edwardian era and the upper classes struggling for control of a family business. This is a device that's worked before for other authors, but not ones with such a crude and lazy approach as this. Her take on history just refuses to translate because she's forgotten about the need for a credible plot and been too literal - would so many people get themselves murdered in 20th century England over a company takeover?
The story is unconvincing, repetitive, superficial and dull. It's also appallingly badly written, and the tone throughout is vulgar and snobbish. The dialogue is hilarious - try reading some of it out loud ("Will you partake of tea, mother?" ...) We're constantly told what everyone's thinking and what they look like (they're all beautiful and sumptuously dressed of course - you almost expect her to say how much their outfits cost, it's that sort of book) but they never come alive. The characters based on Edward IV, Warwick and Hastings do a lot of striding through Mayfair in Savile Row suits as the common folk look on in admiration, but it's hard to tell them apart - in fact, a lot of the characters in this book are interchangeable. And this is the work of a bestselling author?
Judging by the blurb and cover photo, Barbara Taylor Bradford has made her pile and is now living in style in New York, a real-life Woman of Substance (which I read and enjoyed years ago). I like to picture her draped over a chaise longue, sipping champagne while she dictates her outpourings to a minion, Barbara Cartland-style. Are we to believe that she actually read the history books listed as sources? She doesn't include Sharon Penman's infinitely superior
The Sunne in Splendour, but she must have read it - every character is lifted straight from it. Unfortunately she turned them all into cardboard cut-outs while leaving the subtlety, the multi-layered plot and any claim to reality behind.
And it's the first of a trilogy! Words fail me. Why are rich and successful authors allowed to churn out stuff like this long after they've passed their sell-by date? There should be a law against it, then maybe I could get my money back.