Then you held me hostage with the Captive Queen. No! This couldn't be!! This was not a creation of my beloved Alison. It couldn't be! She would never disrespect Eleanor and spread viscious rumors of her infidelity in such lurid detail.
I watched in horror as each page unfolded reducing the great Eleanor to a greedy lustful manipulative whore. How dare you betray my trust!
I love you no more Alison. You have fallen from being one of the greatest Tudor historians of all time to a mere writer of historical fiction. Worse yet, you have stooped to using sex to entertain your readers. You have used your stature as a historian to ensure that the great Eleanor of Aquitane, the matriarch of the Plantagenets, remains known as a nympomaniac rather than one of the greatest female rulers in British history.
Shame on you Alison. You could have turned your attention to any number of historical figures and brought their lives to the masses in rich detail. What about the Capetians? Or perhaps venture further south to Italy? Or you could cross the Atlantic and write about some of America's heroes! Instead, you chose to sully your name by dragging the great Eleanor of Aquitane into the gutter equating her instiable desires of the flesh to her husband, Henry II's, notorious philandering. The only difference? You did not imply her children were bastards. How gracious of you Alison, considering the other baseless informative lies you told on Eleanor.
I have no room in my life you anymore Alison. This is goodbye unless you come to your senses and forego this sexfest you indulge in called "historical fiction".
I expected better from you.
For my readers unfamiliar with Alison Weir's work:
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