This book was TERRIBLE. I'm glad I got it from the library and didn't pay for it. The author writes about her sex life for about 2/3 of the book. The beginning really gives us no inkling about the fact that she apparently was just collecting money in Hollywood and the ending makes it seem as if she "just stopped in" to London, although she lived there for 20 years. Her London flat was filled with valuable items, yet we get no inkling of her likes or dislikes (except for sex). She knew she couldn't act - why doesn't the author recognize that he can't write?