Many hellos my internets.

Book nerds rejoice, they have not yet become obsolete. Whilst languishing in my Sunday hangover I have the chance to finish a quite delightful read. When I say 'delightful' it must be noted that my personal taste has a tendency to be slightly morbid. The Bedroom Secrets of the Master Chefs by Irvine Welsh is, in my  humble and infallible opinion, delightful. In short, a Scottish revenge tale filled with visceral imagery, Dorian Grey-esque intrigue, sex, drugs, food and Star Trek. For those of us that enjoyed Trainspotting for its dialect and counter cultural fury, Bedroom Secrets is a good bit less cryptic and far more accessible.  I think some accessibility will go a long way from Welsh. Let me explain, I have tried on multiple occasions to express my love of Trainspotting to many a friend who has given it back under protest of "hard to read." A nonsense excuse if I have ever heard one, but c'est la vie. Luckily Welsh toned down the brogue for most of Bedroom Secrets, making it a dark and delicious spiral of desperation and redemption with all the charm of a kitten-juggling hobo.

I got my copy at the Country Bookshelf, and they have one for you as well. Scoop one up if you need an excuse to lay out in the sun with a bottle of wine and get a fine sunburn, I highly recommend it.