Dear Mr. Cornwell
I happened by chance to pick up “Harlequin” in a pokey old bookstore in London Ontario (love those stores, I could easily spend all day there and come out with an empty wallet), and brought it along one day when I knew I would be whiling away some time. My late husband had a meeting with colleagues, and I would need to wait in the car for a few hours.. We then would travel on to a weekend destination.
So there I sat, completely and totally engrossed in your book, which I hugely enjoyed. The hours flew by and when he returned he was very surprised to hear me say, “You’re back already?” He was disconcerted to realize that I was firmly stuck in the 1300s, and I confess that he was not entirely pleased that I “had my nose in a book” all weekend! But he forgave me, as he knew his displeasure would not make one whit of difference to me while I was still reading.
I have never forgotten that story, and as a result, back in winter of 2000/2001 I became a collector of any and all Bernard Cornwell books I could find. Twelve years later, my library has grown to about 1900 books, and your titles hold a place of honour. I have most of the Sharpe books, the Saxon Stories, The Grail Quest, and many others.
Unfortunately they are all currently packed away and in storage, as I have sold my house and am a “transient” right now. But I look forward to the day when I will come across those boxes of treasures and sit, surrounded by mayhem, and once again start reading those marvelous medieval tales.
From the bottom of my heart, thank you for sharing your gift.
Thea H