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But for the first time in many years, I get to sleep in my own bed every night. I haven't done that, literally, in years. It seems like such a small thing, but it is so nice.

Every time I come home, it is the same great pleasure to lie down in my bed. That's when I think, 'home sweet home.'

I always request a king-size bed, and if I can't, I try to work that out right after I land. I unpack immediately so the clothes don't get wrinkled. I go the gym. I adjust the temperature; I like the room kind of warm. And then turn on CNBC.

There were mornings when I just didn't want to get out of bed. But once again, I'm in an adverse situation and having to deal with something new and learn how to do it.

As you make your bed, so you must lie in it.

I want to be surrounded by women, I want to be snuggled and cuddled and pampered.

I spend a lot of time in my bed. It's a good comfy one with a tartan bedspread. It's the only place I can read without straining my neck, and I take an afternoon nap, which is my reward for making enough money from my writing now not to have to work. I never get up in the morning before 11.30.

When I'm home, I like a cozy, comfortable, calming space.

I don't want to be viewed as a womaniser or whatever. I don't like going crazy crazy, I like having fun but it's nice to wake up in your own bed, isn't it?

No matter how big or soft or warm your bed is, you still have to get out of it.