Camino Island, by John Grisham, definitely felt like a guilty pleasure. I listened to it, for the neighborhood book club, while driving around town for a few weeks. It’s the story of the theft of five original F. Scott Fitzgerald novel manuscripts from Princeton University’s rare books collection, and the lengths the insurance company goes to in order to recover them. One of the characters, the owner of the bookstore on Camino Island (which is actually Amelia Island, FL in real life), is a complete cad with probably really stinky feet, but his life is charmed (how else could you make so much money running a bookstore in a small place?). The plot is excellent, a driving force. My one big beef with the novel is that the female protagonist, Mercer, is really unrealistically written.
