Vanessa Feltz's indecent proposal to Leonardo DiCaprio which perked him up

She's never been shy about spilling a few juicy details. And when it comes to dealing with A-list egos, few presenters have quite the same knack as .

The radio and TV chat queen has been cajoling Hollywood types into confessing their secrets for more than 30 years - first on This Morning with Richard and Judy, then on the Big Breakfast bed and now on LBC and more TV roles than she has time to list.

In the very un-PC days of the 90s, some big names like Sly Stallone were certainly pleased to see her when she met them in person, but others? Well, they were a little more hard work.

Here in an exclusive Mirror extract from her sizzling new memoir reveals how a sullen Leonardo DiCaprio made a Titanic mistake to think he could resist her charms.....

By Vanessa Feltz

In the early 90s, I had found my way to Liverpool’s Albert Dock to join Richard and Judy on ’s . And if Hollywood stars refused to budge from the Presidential Suite at the Dorchester, the programme sent someone to interview them in W1. In 1993, that person was often me.

One day I trotted to the hotel to find a monosyllabic 19-year-old Leonardo DiCaprio wearing a woollen beanie hat and surly slouch. He’d just starred in his breakout movie, What’s Eating Gilbert Grape, and was a typical truculent teenager. I came up with an emergency strategy. Ask something unexpected. “If you weren’t stuck in this room with me right now, what would you rather be doing? And in what position?” He perked up and engaged.

Forcing Leo to cough up conversation was just the start. Late I accosted Sylvester Stallone and was rewarded with a deep, fabulous French kiss from Rocky in Leicester Square. I know this would be unforgivable today. In 1993, I’d been married for eight years, and a bit of sprightly tongue action from one of the ’s most charismatic chaps – though surprisingly short, I’m five feet two and our embrace was eye to eye – was not entirely unwelcome.

Then came . My two blessed predecessors – Paula Yates and Paul O’Grady – are sharing a cloud in Heaven, so you’ll have to rely on my testimony when I tell you that broadcasting on a bed does funny things to people. Some fall asleep. Some become amorous – after all, there’s a bosomy blonde within arm’s reach.

was a cauldron of simmering sexuality. If I’d given way to my baser inclinations, I’d have enjoyed post-show orgies. I was ripe for seduction but wary of home-wrecking, especially mine.

Wesley Snipes made a flying visit to the UK. His thesis on the bed was that he’d like to climb my twin peaks and push criminals to certain death in the crevice of my cleavage. Back then in 1996, I thought I was happily married, but when my husband f****ed off three years later, uppermost among my regrets was “Damn! I bloody well should have sh****d Wesley Snipes!”

Jurassic Park hero Jeff Goldblum was quite simply sex on muscular, exceptionally shapely legs. One look at him and my ovaries somersaulted. He paints, plays jazz piano and looks deeply into your eyes. He is the mensch against whom I measure all other men and find them wanting. I think he liked me a little bit too. He invited me to a party in the West End that night. I took my husband with me. Jeff spotted me and waved me over. Am I overstating it to say his face fell as he saw my hand interlaced with my husband’s?

• , by Vanessa Feltz (Transworld, £22), is published on October 24.

NOW READ THE MIRROR'S OTHER VANESSA FELTZ EXCLUSIVES FROM HER SIZZLING NEW MEMOIR: