Tilly Bagshawe is the Boer DEI hire who destroyed the legacy of Sidney Sheldon
My fans out there know I love me some Sidney Sheldon. You do not know Sidney Sheldon novels like I know Sidney Sheldon novels. The man was a historical fiction masterclass all by his goddamn self, and let the church of the Sheldon stans say amen! As one of the Sidney Sheldon deaconess stans, I have a lot to get off my chest with this review.
Fuck yeah, I’m pissed as shit about this one.
Sidney Sheldon’s Mistress Of The Game is supposed to be a sequel to his legendary Master Of The Game, which told us the story of James McGregor’s rise to power and his family’s subsequent continuation of his company ambitions despite their hard times and hard living keeping his company, Kruger Brent, in the family going strong. This South African British journalist turned hack ass writer obsessed with literary incest named Tilly Bagshawe got the gig allegedly getting a head nod from the Sheldon estate, to continue his alleged half finished novels after his death, and she fucked up the one assignment she had.
Tilly Bagshawe writes like she just had one too many mouthfuls of dyed pubes from lipstick lesbian trust fund kid agents gassing her up as the great Sidney Sheldon successor that she coughed up the hairball and passed it on as Sidney Sheldon’s Mistress Of The Game. This book, like her writing, ain’t shit. And yeah, fuck PenguinRandomSchuster for beating a dead man’s IP to the point said dead man had to carry this hemorrhoid of literature by titling it Sidney Sheldon’s Mistress Of The Game so people would overlook that hack ass bitch that gutted it like a botched abortion having her name at the bottom.
This slovenly softcore incest porn of a novel, alongside her piss poor ass sequels to If Tomorrow Comes, should literally buy her an ass whipping by every Sidney Sheldon stan that got lost in his music. Her corny, soap opera nighttime Skinamax infused craptastic shitfest of an offering with Sidney Sheldon’s Mistress Of The Game is enough to make him rise from the dead and slap the shine off her buck teeth for destroying the legacy of one of the best books of all time. When this piece of shit came out I was initially excited to read it, only because PenguinRandomSchuster promoted it as something Sheldon was writing when he died. THAT IS SOME MOTHERFUCKING BULLSHIT. But I didn’t know, so I read it. When I tell you that eating an entire crave case from White Castle and having the shits for two consecutive hours was more entertaining than Sidney Sheldon’s Mistress Of The Game, you know Tilly Bagshawe done fucked up royally.
Sidney Sheldon’s Mistress Of The Game is the herniated disc continuing saga of the Blackwell clan. In true hack ass Bagshawe style she first begins the book with the FUCKING ENDING. We don’t know what the hell happened since she left that part out but set it up as a crisis – Bagshawe has Lexi Templeton explaining shit like Scooby Doo with bits and pieces to lure us into the mystery of who, what where and it falls flatter than a pancake ass leaking Botox, since we don’t know who Lexi Templeton is at this point.
Then the story starts the first of hundreds of rehashments of Master Of The Game. Kate Blackwell, who was old as fuck and damn near a hundred years old at the end of Sheldon’s tour de force, has finally died. All the sins of her manipulation with her family is now coming home to roost. Identical twins Alexandra and Eve are knocked up and married, living their lives; Alexandra is happy with her upcoming baby plus ten year old son, Robert whom she’s very close to and her husband, Peter Templeton, who sits in the shadows jealous of his son’s bond with his mother. Eve’s face is still fucked up from what Keith Webster did to her, and she’s still married to the psycho asshole since Kate didn’t help her out of that mess, and she allows herself to get knocked up by him so she can use her baby to exact her revenge, get Kruger Bren back and all its riches, so nothing’s changed in that regard, either.
Bagshawe then goes into the wheel of no creativity of plot when Alexandra dies (ala Marianne dying giving birth to her and Eve) giving birth to her daughter Alexandra, named after her and called Lexi. Peter, just like Tony Blackwell, falls apart but instead of going nutzo and being committed to a sanitarium, takes to drinking and lashing out at Robert. This of course, makes Robert depressed as he grows up and turns to drugs, and mercy me, becomes gay which his father never accepts. Eve has her hell spawn, Max, and from the first moment he pops from her tainted love, is conditioned to be her henchman.
Years pass. Lexi’s a happy kid, Robert is just a vagabond, dealing with his sexuality, and Max is a psychopath. Lexi gets kidnapped in a two week extortion for hire by some pedophiles that not only rape her, but her family refuses to pay the ten million ransom to get her, opting to use their leverage with the FBI to find her. Once two bumblefuck agents close in, the extortioners BLOW THE BUILDING, and in the explosion, Lexi becomes deaf. Way to go on crippling people, Bagshawe. And let’s just be campy and tack on Robert vowing to stay clean because of the make a deal with God so the person you love will survive trope. Max is living in the evilness of his mother, growing into her right hand minion by the day until the fateful moment he kills his father for Eve so he can have his mother all to himself and start making moves to take Kruger Brent.
Years pass again. Lexi bounces back as a mute sociopath with nymphomaniac tendencies as a teenager when she isn’t have a flashback to being raped as a five year old. She and Max also hate each other with a passion, mostly because Max is manipulating trying to suck up to board members to secure a place with Kruger Brent. Meanwhile both he and Lexi got some weird lusting sexual tension for the cousin thing going on with EACH OTHER, something Bagshawe just gets wet over as much as she uses it and discusses it through this novel. If that’s not enough to make you say what the fuck is this bullshit, Bagshawe drops in a character NOBODY HAS EVER HEARD OF, a two bit criminal named Gabe McGregor, who is the great great nephew of James McGregor. And like his ancestor, he’s going to Africa to make his fortune, though it’s after the fall of apartheid and not the fucking 19th century before the South African British Tart Wars. All of that’s happening as Lexi calling card’s a revenge killing of the guy that raped her by taking out a wing of inmates at a shithole prison halfway around the world via poison. How dainty.
Even more years pass. As Lexi and Max are now almost 25, they are closer to the age where one of them will inherit Kruger Brent. Their lust for each other is the central thematic focus, whether it’s Lexi jacking off thinking about her Aunt’s son or her Aunt telling Max to fuck her sister’s child because nothing is more important than the company. Nobody at Kruger Brent seems to be bothered by the fact that first cousins could possibly be fucking, either. Of course, when they finally do have sex, it’s the best sex of her life with her cousin’s big fat penis turning each other out with their nothing off limits bedroom explorations. And the good dick sessions is how Max infiltrates her, gets party girl gone wild pics from her college days and leaks them to get the company. Fifty shades of incestuous Sheldon ain’t sexy.
Five more years pass. Lexi gets her hearing back from a quack doctor in Asia. She takes her inheritance and becomes a real estate tycoon, but of course Bagshawe can’t stop there with her incest porn and Lexi starts an affair with her great-grandfather’s great great nephew Gabe after his pregnant wife and child are murdered by angry Blacks accusing whites of giving them AIDS, so insert a proper eye roll there. But hey, Lexi’s got more good dick from another cousin and they become a power couple to boot! Max is married to some tart Eve forced him to copulate with and drinking to get through the guilt of fucking his cousin, killing his daddy, and running his grandmother’s company into the ground. Oh, and there’s Eve going bat shit cray cray into dementia, emotionally and physically blackmailing Max to do as she says with the company, so she’s running it essentially by default. The halfway one good point in his life are his twin sons. Shit hits the fan when Lexi embezzles money from her companies and bankrupts Kruger Brent to buy it back for pennies on the dollar. Only then does Max have a nervous breakdown and hangs himself, hoping he can go back to being a little boy in his mother’s arms as he chokes to death alongside the novel.
The shitfest of incestuous triumph ends with a Scooby Doo who done it without George Takei. Lexi’s marrying her fucking cousin Gabe, and the feds are closing in because Eve, right before the ghosts of her family come and take her to death, snitches Lexi and her accomplices out on how she bankrupted Kruger Brent. So now Lexi’s on the run, trying to figure out how she’s going to bring the company back to greatness after the grits hit the pan as she has five whole minutes to get used to having her cousin’s baby. That’s it, that’s all.
THIS is the level of painful bullshit Bagshawe stained on Sheldon’s name – with more years passing than Apartment 3G’s had a comic strip. And later this same day, good fucking Gawd A’mighty, do not read this. If you see copies, request they be used as tinder for fire. Things like this is why Tool Vs. The Commissioner exist, to destroy terrible books that should have never been written. If this is what modern literature looks like, with a South African British Tart hack ass writing incest lit as the gold standard, I’ll gladly pass.
Sidney Sheldon’s turning in his grave that his best work has been shitted on by a South African British turd. Tilly Bagshawe needs to sit her ass down somewhere and just stop writing Sheldon books. Sheldon stans didn’t ask for her wet dream incest fantasies and would really appreciate it if she kept that bullshit for her own chitterling infest incest books that nobody asked for.
