I always buy a few when on holidays.
There is something irresistible in reading crime novels in British English on the beach immediately after swimming, sitting on your towel, eating crunchy fitness bar or a chocolate.
Sovereign style, modern metaphores and comparison like "his mustaches always looked like they landed accidentally on his face", or "I was studying her wrinkles but she was mistaking that and asked me 'Do you like me?'" - priceless, although the books cost as two postcards each.
Second chapter always significantly shorter than others.