December 15, 1986 12:00 PM

by Jackie Collins

Reading Jackie Collins is like indulging in too much cheap champagne at a party. It’s fun at first, but before long your head starts to ache, and by the next day it’s hard to remember who was there or what anyone said. For her follow-up to Hollywood Wives, Collins has assembled the usual group of ditzy, glitzy, sexually insatiable characters. There is virile Jack Python, America’s most important talk show host. There are his old buddies, movie studio head Howard Soloman and movie star/ stud Mannon Cable. There is Jack’s sister Silver Anderson, a well-preserved actress of semi-advanced years who stars in the soap of the moment, Palm Springs. (Wonder what famous novelist’s even more famous actress-sister will play that part in the mini-series?…) Everyone is sleeping with, has slept with or intends to sleep with an impressive number of other people. When they are not in bed, the characters choose outfits, shmooz (or “give great party,” as the author puts it) and scheme to improve their careers. It all gets pretty monotonous by page 543, though Collins throws in a pyromaniac and a celebrity yachting disaster. She is rumored to be planning three further novels of this ilk: Hollywood Kids, Hollywood Hookers and Hollywood Hustlers. Maybe then she’ll move to Peoria. (Simon and Schuster, $18.95)

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