My trashy summer reading has mostly consisted of Harlan Coben thrillers. I like his characters (especially Win in the Myron Bolitar books) and he tells a ripping good yarn (if sometimes one I feel I could map out with a flowchart before I've read it), but, bless his heart, he's not much of a stylist and occasionally gets very clunky, which judging from his copyright dates is likely the result of writing very fast. I liked this bit from One False Move:

Dear Mr. Slaughter:

We are in receip