tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69232269016714764312024-02-19T04:26:22.673+00:00Kim The BookwormKim The Book Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06498912722314773900noreply@blogger.comBlogger327125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6923226901671476431.post-18223401199576792822014-09-11T09:07:00.006+01:002014-09-11T09:07:59.294+01:00Guest Post - Laura James (author of Follow Me, Follow You)<div class="s7" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
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<span style="color: purple;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s3"><strong>Lovely to be joined today by Laura James author of Follow Me, Follow You. I'm so looking forward to reading this. T</strong></span></span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s3"><strong>hanks for popping along to the blog today. Over to you Laura!</strong> </span></span> </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s3">Hi Kim, Thank you so much for inviting me here today. It’s wonderful to get out and about and meet new people and chat about my second novel for Choc Lit, </span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">Follow Me, Follow You</span><span class="s3">.</span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s3">In some ways, I’m a little like Victoria Noble</span><span class="s3">, the heroine in the book</span><span class="s3">. I have times when I like to retreat into a different world. In my younger days that </span><span class="s3">was</span><span class="s3"> my bedroom, where I</span><span class="s3"> sat</span><span class="s3"> for hours creating new inventions like the door alarm nose-tickler. This was quite an intricate set-up which alerted me to my bedroom door being opened. By connecting together string, card and a green feather, possibly from my mum’s dusting stick, and</span><span class="s3"> then</span><span class="s3"> tying </span><span class="s3">the</span><span class="s3">end </span><span class="s3">of the string </span><span class="s3">to the door handle, </span><span class="s3">I knew when my door was being tampered with. I</span><span class="s3">f I was lying on my bed with my eyes closed and the feather brushed my nose,</span><span class="s3"> I had visitors</span><span class="s3">. The fact I could hear them was neither here nor there</span><span class="s3"> …</span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s3">If I wasn’t indulging my stationery needs, making posters on the giant A1 pads, or lining my felt-tip pens up in colour sequence, I listen</span><span class="s3">ed to music, and poured </span><span class="s3">over the lyric sheets that came with the albums.</span><span class="s3"> I analysed the words and meanings behind songs and picked out my favourite lines</span><span class="s3">. I’m a big fan of the rhyming couplet.</span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s3">On other occasions, I </span><span class="s3">sat</span><span class="s3"> in my cosy red chair and read. I was taking A Level English and A Level Theatre Studies, so I had plenty of </span><span class="s3">available </span><span class="s3">books. I recall my English teacher’s enthusiasm for The Wife of Bath’s Prologue and Tale, part of Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales. Without her obvious love for the book, I think I would have struggled</span><span class="s3">, but enthusiasm translates into every language</span><span class="s3"> and this book has stayed with me</span><span class="s3">.</span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s3">In my late teens</span><span class="s3">, I bought an Atari PC. It came with a floppy disc drive and a dot matrix printer. I was in heaven. Not only could I mess about playing text-based adventure games, I could type and print out the poems I’d started writing ‒ poems inspired by </span><span class="s3">books and </span><span class="s3">lyrics I’d spent days analysing.</span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s3">Unlike Victoria Noble, I’m not a computer whizz. I managed to write one very basic adventure </span><span class="s3">game</span><span class="s3"> which used ‘</span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">Go to</span><span class="s3">’ instructions, but that was the peak of my programming career. In 1996, I married an IT engineer.</span><span class="s3"> </span><span class="s3">I’ve g</span><span class="s3">ot IT covered.</span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s3">Today, my equivalent of sitting at my Atari in my bedroom is working at my desk in the kitchen, writing novels and short stories. I no longer make large contraptions out of wool and sticky tape, but the creating bug is still with me. For the book launch of </span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">Follow Me, Follow You</span><span class="s3">, my family and I made loom bands with book charms. The four of us sat at the kitchen table, cutting, gluing and weaving, putting together fifty bracelets as fun giveaways.</span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s3">And my retreat</span><span class="s3"> still</span><span class="s3"> takes the form of a good book. Stories </span><span class="s3">t</span><span class="s3">ake me all over the world,</span><span class="s3">send me time-travelling</span><span class="s3">, </span><span class="s3">put me in the middle of a grand</span><span class="s3"> adventure with my children, </span><span class="s3">make me </span><span class="s3">fall in love hundreds of times</span><span class="s3">,</span><span class="s3"> and </span><span class="s3">allow me to </span><span class="s3">experience a gamut of </span><span class="s3">highly-charged</span><span class="s3">emotions, all from the comfort and safety of my sofa.</span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s3">I think I’ve just realised why the word </span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">treat</span><span class="s3"> is part of </span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">retreat</span><span class="s3">.</span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s3">What’s you</span><span class="s3">r</span><span class="s3"> ‘</span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">Go </span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">t</span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">o</span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">’</span><span class="s3"> place or activity you see as your retreat?</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/1781891877/ref=s9_simh_gw_p14_d0_i1?pf_rd_m=A3P5ROKL5A1OLE&pf_rd_s=center-2&pf_rd_r=0ZNDAJW1G8CFZW3C493S&pf_rd_t=101&pf_rd_p=455344027&pf_rd_i=468294"><span class="s8">Amazon</span></a><span class="s6"></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s6" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Blurb:</span></div>
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<span class="s9" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-weight: bold;">You save me and I'll save you...</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s6">Victoria Noble has pulled the plug on romance. As director of the number one social networking site, </span><span class="s6">EweSpeak</span><span class="s6">, and single mother to four-year-old Seth, she wrestles with the work-life balance.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s6" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Enter Chris Frampton, Hollywood action hero and Victoria's first love. His return from LA has sparked a powder keg of media attention, and with secrets threatening to fuel the fire, he's desperate to escape.</span></div>
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<span class="s6" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">But finding a way forward is never simple. Although his connection with Victoria is as strong as when he was nineteen, has he been adrift too long to know how to move on?</span></div>
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<span class="s6" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">With the risk of them breaking, will either #follow their heart?</span></div>
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<span class="s6" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Victoria was attempting to create the impression she was engrossed in her work. From the moment Dan collected Seth, she’d buried her head in buff-coloured files, raising it once to study her monitor. At that moment, she realised Juliette was watching her.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s6">‘I’m all right, </span><span class="s6">Joo</span><span class="s6">, honestly.’ That was a lie. She was preoccupied with thoughts of Chris Frampton returning home, considering ways to stop </span><span class="s6">EweSpeak’s</span><span class="s6"> Board of Directors from travelling a destructive path, and despairing over her non-existent relationship with her son. She grimaced. </span><span class="s6">‘Apart from the blinding headache.’</span></span></div>
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<span class="s6" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">She thrust herself away from the desk and rubbed the back of her neck. Her life was too cluttered for her to make informed decisions, and too many demands were being made of her, emotionally and physically. Something had to give. ‘I could do without this stupid business with the board.’</span></div>
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<span class="s6" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Do you think they’ll go ahead?’</span></div>
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<span class="s6" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Victoria huffed. ‘Of course they will. They’re motivated by money. They’ll do whatever it takes to keep their bank accounts full and their fat backsides comfortable.’</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s6">‘But they have a duty of loyalty, and their report states the move will secure the future of </span><span class="s6">EweSpeak</span><span class="s6">—’</span></span></div>
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<span class="s6" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘It only secures their position, Juliette. Let’s face facts. We made bad choices, electing certain members to the board. We were blinded by their past successes. They’re cut-throat businessmen with reputations to uphold.’ Victoria swung her chair round and gaped at her sister. ‘I’ll bet a year’s salary there’ll be redundancies.’</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s6">‘But if charging clients to join will increase profits—’</span><span style="padding-left: 36px;"></span></span></div>
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<span class="s6" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Victoria cut her off again. ‘Did you miss the bit where they proposed paying celebrities for exclusive bleats? It’s ridiculous. It won’t work. People will opt out. Our followers enjoy the personal contact, the chance to hold a discussion with like-minded souls, maybe even exchange a bleat with their idol. If it’s sensationalism they want, they’ll buy a glossy magazine, or worse, they’ll flock to our competitors. They won’t subscribe to our network.’ She shook her head. ‘It has disaster written all over it.’</span></div>
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<span class="s6" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘I don’t see it. The board’s acting in the company’s best interest. We have to make money. And it’s not just their pockets they’re lining, is it?’ Juliette waved a hand in the direction of the window. ‘I don’t hear you complaining about the flashy, two-seater sports car you’ve parked in our private garage.’</span></div>
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<span class="s6" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Victoria reached for the remote on her desk, and switched on the TV. ‘I need a break.’ She stood, gave her arms a stretch, and walked across to the sofa, collapsing into it, irascible and frustrated. Surely Juliette wasn’t voting with the board? Victoria cast her eyes to the large screen, scoured through the programme guide, and settled on a news channel.</span></div>
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<span class="s6" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">It was a mistake.</span></div>
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<span class="s6" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Wherever her eyes fell – the TV, online, mobile applications – Chris’s then thirty-five-year-old haunted face appeared, vacant, pale and broken. There was no escape from the dated footage of him being jostled out of the way of bloodthirsty, aggressive photographers or being hustled into his ranch house by burly security men. Victoria had seen the images thirty, maybe forty times in the last couple of years. Every piece of technology in her office was broadcasting his grief all over again, and each time his name was typed, bleated, or beamed across the Internet, and for every second his tormented features were on public display, Victoria was on trial. Her technology, the company, the brand she had developed and grown was helping prolong his terror. To see this beautiful man reduced to a floorshow for the cheap seats made her sick to the stomach.</span></div>
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<span class="s6" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">She jumped at a touch to her arm.</span></div>
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<span class="s6" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Are you okay?’ Juliette took the remote from Victoria, switched off the TV, and sat down. ‘I’m sorry I called him your obsession. This must be hard for you.’</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s6">Victoria shrugged. Although she understood Juliette’s concern, she didn’t appreciate intrusion, and </span><span class="s13" style="font-style: italic;">sharing</span><span class="s6">, as her sister called it, was not Victoria’s way. There’d been far too much of that already. A small shudder ran through her. ‘It’s complicated,’ she said, hoping a few words, regardless of content, would appease Juliette.</span></span></div>
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<strong>Here's the book trailer. </strong></div>
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<span class="s6" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Author Bio:</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtHL9XVBmW-fLlhzdUYVdAQCA1qpVRuchvpbRgkkEfEC-o784Nr53VCIm53o7UOwWToFaxBITLEgKa1Wq-oi_TS_9UJq42an9YSMYRLEbKbekTo7eJgtOoLxK-bHtB6jEb40DJAWGGnH8/s1600/laura+James.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtHL9XVBmW-fLlhzdUYVdAQCA1qpVRuchvpbRgkkEfEC-o784Nr53VCIm53o7UOwWToFaxBITLEgKa1Wq-oi_TS_9UJq42an9YSMYRLEbKbekTo7eJgtOoLxK-bHtB6jEb40DJAWGGnH8/s1600/laura+James.jpg" height="320" width="256" /></a></div>
<span class="s6" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Laura is married and has two children. She lives in Dorset, but spent her formative years in Watford, a brief train ride away from the bright lights of London. Here she indulged her love of live music, and, following a spectacular Stevie Nicks gig, decided to take up singing, a passion that scored her second place in a national competition.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s6">Laura is a graduate of the Romantic Novelists’ Association’s New Writers’ Scheme, a member of her local writing group, Off </span><span class="s6">The</span><span class="s6"> Cuff, and an editor of the popular </span><span class="s6">Romaniacs</span><span class="s6">blog.</span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s6">Laura was runner-up twice in the Choc Lit Short Story competitions. Her story </span><span class="s13" style="font-style: italic;">Bitter Sweet</span><span class="s6">appears in the Romantic Novelists’ Association’s Anthology. </span><span class="s13" style="font-style: italic;">Truth or</span><span class="s13" style="font-style: italic;"> </span><span class="s13" style="font-style: italic;">Dare</span><span class="s13" style="font-style: italic;">?</span><span class="s6">,</span><span class="s6"> Laura’s debut novel, was shortlisted for the Festival of Romantic Fiction Best Romantic eBook 2013 and the 2014 Joan </span><span class="s6">Hessayon</span><span class="s6"> New Writers’ Award. </span><span class="s13" style="font-style: italic;">Follow me, follow you </span><span class="s6">is Laura’s first Choc Lit novel published in paperback.</span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></div>
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<a href="http://www.lauraejames.co.uk/"><span class="s8" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="color: black;">www.lauraejames.co.uk</span></span></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.twitter.com/Laura_E_James"><span class="s8" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="color: black;">www.twitter.com/Laura_E_James</span></span></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.facebook.com/LauraE.JamesWriter"><span class="s8" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="color: black;">www.facebook.com/LauraE.JamesWriter</span></span></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.theromaniacs.co.uk/"><span class="s8" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="color: black;">www.theromaniacs.co.uk</span></span></a></div>
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Kim The Book Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06498912722314773900noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6923226901671476431.post-54968850052883805852014-09-08T07:05:00.000+01:002014-09-08T07:07:59.089+01:00Interview with Sue Moorcroft<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtqnxF-Rpw7PRY3vi4TCenPPgE9p6UhOn8HEVsuFaSNBuvlEljVxDr0iFpOAjOAvOSdOIYKPdDqONwDuZhstkF_W5yvStx7XP6Zqi2BZUv09iSLYqxbRF5N9cGaiKxQsHFMyXaydoFEtQ/s1600/TWP_HIGHRES+150dpi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtqnxF-Rpw7PRY3vi4TCenPPgE9p6UhOn8HEVsuFaSNBuvlEljVxDr0iFpOAjOAvOSdOIYKPdDqONwDuZhstkF_W5yvStx7XP6Zqi2BZUv09iSLYqxbRF5N9cGaiKxQsHFMyXaydoFEtQ/s1600/TWP_HIGHRES+150dpi.jpg" height="320" width="208" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm super-delighted to welcome Sue Moorcroft onto my blog today on the day that her <strong> latest book </strong></span><a href="http://www.choc-lit.com/dd-product/the-wedding-proposal/"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Wedding Proposal</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> is available as a paperback (8 September). This book is also available now as an ebook. Sue is an incredible author and I've loved every book of hers that I've ever read. She is wonderfully entertaining, she makes you laugh and makes you cry and certainly makes you think. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Without further ado, here's our question and answer session: </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div>
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<strong><span style="color: purple; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thanks so much for joining me today Sue, I wish you every success with this book. </span></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><span style="color: purple;">If you
could be anyone famous, who would you like to be and why?</span></strong> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lewis
Hamilton, so I could drive a Formula 1 car and win a grand prix. And also hang
out with other Formula 1 drivers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: purple;"><strong>If you
could do any job, apart from be a writer, what would it be and why?</strong></span> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’d
quite like to be in some kind of PR role (again, maybe in F1?). I don’t want
the stress that the job seems to bring but fancy the creativity and the feeling
of no two days being alike. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<strong><span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Do you
watch TV? If so, what sort of programmes do you like to watch?<o:p></o:p></span></span></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
really don’t watch that much. I watch every Formula 1 programme that I can; I
love really clever comedies such as <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Big Bang Theory</i>; and I like quite a few documentaries. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: purple;"><strong>Where
is your most favourite place in the world and why?</strong></span> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The
Upper Barrakka Gardens in Valletta, Malta. I used to live in Malta as a child,
I adore it, and the view from the Upper Barrakka over Grand Harbour is amazing.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What
made you choose Malta as a setting for The Wedding Proposal? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">See
above! I like sending characters to Malta for when I can’t be there myself. The
fact that Elle and Lucas are stuck together on a small boat is vital to the
plot and mooring that boat in a country other than the UK made it hard for them
to get away from one another. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><span style="color: purple;">Is
there anywhere else in the world that you would like to write a book about?</span></strong> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Wow,
there must be hundreds. I’ll say Singapore because my parents met and married
there and I haven’t yet been.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What
is your favourite book that you wrote? <o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It’s
really hard to choose but I’ll say <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.choc-lit.com/dd-product/dream-a-little-dream/"><span style="color: blue;">Dream a Little
Dream</span></a></i> because it was so satisfying. The story itself took off like a
dragon and the research was challenging because of the medical condition of the
hero, Dominic, who suffers from narcolepsy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<strong><span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Do you
like to listen to music when you write and if so, what do you like to listen
to?<o:p></o:p></span></span></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It
depends what stage of the process I’m at. If I’m deep in the writing zone I
like silence or ‘wallpaper’ type classical music, usually piano or guitar. At
other times I like to listen to a wide variety, often that of
singer-songwriters such as Newton Faulkner, Frank Turner or Regina Spektor. But
when ‘in the zone’ I find their words get in the way of my own – hence the
instrumental stuff.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Who is
your favourite band/music artist?<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It
depends what mood I’m in. If I had to take the work of only one artist to a
desert island the artist would be David Bowie. But not all of it. He went
through so many changes that some of them don’t call to me in the way that
others do. I love the early albums unreservedly, though.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><span style="color: purple;">Who
you do lust after?</span></strong> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’ve
found it impossible to single out a person so I’m going to say tall, fit, hot
men who do not wear beards (ever) (but a small amount of stubble is OK) and who
have wicked smiles and naughty glints. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: purple;"><strong>Who is
your favourite book character - your own or anyone else's?</strong></span> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’m
going to say Ratty out of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.choc-lit.com/dd-product/starting-over/"><span style="color: blue;">Starting Over</span></a></i>
if I’m allowed to choose one of my own. I never quite fell out of love with
Ratty and he’s the hero of mine who has received the most attention. He’s done
interviews and he’s received his own fan mail. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><span style="color: purple;">I know
you help aspiring writers in many different ways. What is the one
piece of advice you would give to someone who wants to start writing?</span></strong> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Educate
yourself, persist, learn about publishing as well as how to write, network.
Enjoy!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How
can someone get involved in the many ways you help potential authors? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There’s
information on </span><a href="http://www.suemoorcroft.com/"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">my website</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> about
having manuscripts appraised or the writer being mentored. I’m currently a
tutor for the </span><a href="http://www.lcmj.co.uk/"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">London School of Journalism</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">.
On my blog is a list of any events/workshops I’m involved with, including a
residential course in Italy with </span><a href="http://www.arteumbria.com/"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Arte
Umbria</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> and I hope also to do one for </span><a href="http://www.chez-castillon.com/"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Chez Castillon</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> in France but the
dates haven’t been decided. And groups can book me to run workshops for them.
They can read my ‘how to’ book, </span><a href="http://www.accentpress.co.uk/Book/1259/2976/Love-Writing.html"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Love
Writing</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, or follow my columns in </span><a href="http://www.writers-forum.com/"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Writers’
Forum</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><span style="color: purple;">What’s
next for Sue Moorcroft?</span></strong> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’m
writing a new novel, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Twelve Dates of
Christmas,</i> and also a serial for <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">My
Weekly</i> entitled <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Ms Easily Overlooked</i>,
which is due to run over Christmas and New Year. I’m not sure how I ended up
writing two things about Christmas as I prefer summer. Next year maybe I’ll
write about a holiday. Someone gave me a great idea for the premise …<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><a href="http://www.suemoorcroft.com/"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sue
Moorcroft</span></a></b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> writes
romantic novels of dauntless heroines and irresistible heroes. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Is-This-Love-Choc-Lit-ebook/dp/B00FKXQKU6/ref=pd_sim_kinc_1"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Is this Love?</span></a></i>
was nominated for the Readers’ Best Romantic Read Award. </span><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Love-Freedom-Sue-Moorcroft/dp/1906931666/ref=tmm_pap_title_0"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Love & Freedom</span></i></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> won the Best
Romantic Read Award 2011 and </span><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Dream-Little-Sue-Moorcroft/dp/1906931909/ref=sr_1_10?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1345367786&sr=1-10"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Dream a Little Dream</span></i></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> was nominated for
a RoNA in 2013. Sue received three nominations at the Festival of Romance 2012,
and is a Katie Fforde Bursary Award winner. She’s a past vice chair of the RNA
and editor of its two anthologies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<o:p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></o:p><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sue also writes
short stories, serials, articles, writing ‘how to’ and is a competition judge
and creative writing tutor. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></o:p></div>
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sue’s latest book </span></b><a href="http://www.choc-lit.com/dd-product/the-wedding-proposal/"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Wedding
Proposal</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> is available as an ebook from 4 August 2014 and as a paperback
from 8 September.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Website </span><a href="http://www.suemoorcroft.com/"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">www.suemoorcroft.com</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Blog </span><a href="http://suemoorcroft.wordpress.com/"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">http://suemoorcroft.wordpress.com/</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<a href="http://en-gb.facebook.com/people/Sue-Moorcroft/100000047807135"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Facebook</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> sue.moorcroft.3
and </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/SueMoorcroftAuthor"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">https://www.facebook.com/SueMoorcroftAuthor</span></span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Twitter
@suemoorcroft<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></o:p></div>
<a href="http://www.choc-lit.com/dd-product/the-wedding-proposal/"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Wedding
Proposal</span></a><o:p></o:p><br />
<o:p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></o:p><br />
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<strong><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Can a runaway bride stop running?</span></i></strong><strong><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Elle
Jamieson is an unusually private person, in relationships as well as at work –
and for good reason. But when she’s made redundant, with no ties to hold her,
Elle heads off to a new life in sunny Malta.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lucas
Rose hates secrets – he prides himself on his ability to lay his cards on the
table and he expects nothing less from others. He’s furious when his summer
working as a divemaster is interrupted by the arrival of Elle, his ex, all
thanks to his Uncle Simon’s misguided attempts at matchmaking.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Forced
to live in close proximity, it’s hard to ignore what they had shared before
Lucas’s wedding proposal ended everything they had. But then an unexpected
phone call from England allows Lucas a rare glimpse of the true Elle. Can he
deal with Elle’s hidden past when it finally comes to light?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Kim The Book Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06498912722314773900noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6923226901671476431.post-48044842771421695762014-08-15T09:27:00.002+01:002014-08-15T09:27:25.869+01:00Review - Three Little Birds by Carol E Wyer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzbwMKjGAgEMQDQaR2VjIQYDOTsTZSe08VSW1wZC0erMF1sgx8E86VNX4OMFdRcPeV1Y89Jg-y-KetKPDaljJW0M640pmeypEWACMV2K_MDomVUZ0hcAKhRUtpqqS4vccIW9eh7lAEDZQ/s1600/3LB.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzbwMKjGAgEMQDQaR2VjIQYDOTsTZSe08VSW1wZC0erMF1sgx8E86VNX4OMFdRcPeV1Y89Jg-y-KetKPDaljJW0M640pmeypEWACMV2K_MDomVUZ0hcAKhRUtpqqS4vccIW9eh7lAEDZQ/s1600/3LB.png" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="c0"><strong><u>About the book</u></strong></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="c0"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="c0">Two friends. Two Carpe Diem lists. One proviso. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="c0"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="c0">When Charlie Blunkett and Mercedes Thomson swap bucket lists, neither can possibly know how much their lives will change. There will be challenges that neither expected to ever face, and for one of them, an insurmountable fear to conquer. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="c0"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="c0">Charlie is about to discover the importance of seizing the day. It is a journey that will take her to dark places, teach her to love again and to come to recognise who she really is. However, it will be a rocky road and there is danger afoot that could threaten her happiness and her life.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="c0"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong><u>What did I think? </u></strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="c0"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="c0">This is a fabulous story about friendship, and love and about never giving up despite what has happened in your past. It's about grabbing every opportunity which is offered to you and about living life to the full. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="c0"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="c0">It's massively inspirational, hugely motivational and makes you want to get up off your lazy ass and do something worthwhile and memorable. Life is for making memories, you can't change the past, however traumatic it was and how it has affected your future, but you do have the chance to be happy again and deserve to take that chance.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="c0"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="c0">There was laughter, tears and tons of fun written into this book and I felt like I'd gone on a rollercoaster of emotions but came out better for it at the end. I'm sure lots of people will take lots of things from this book and feel completely compelled to do something inspiring!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="c0"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="c0">I absolutely loved this book! </span></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNu4TV-42p0q2ECd6-BYNgoEF2gQ5KTMxbFF3qCXptAiu9mq4MjlPxLhB-2fj7TLoiCaZXN-QBwcQQt5zil2S4-MziDL6eCPEEs_YhnsRXVbqCSYHtvONDqg_oQ2eCFTLHy7V8fwdxoUQ/s1600/Carol.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNu4TV-42p0q2ECd6-BYNgoEF2gQ5KTMxbFF3qCXptAiu9mq4MjlPxLhB-2fj7TLoiCaZXN-QBwcQQt5zil2S4-MziDL6eCPEEs_YhnsRXVbqCSYHtvONDqg_oQ2eCFTLHy7V8fwdxoUQ/s1600/Carol.png" /></a></div>
<strong style="border-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); border-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><u>About the Author</u></span></strong></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After completing a degree in French and English, Carol E Wyer became a language teacher. She actually began her working life abroad, in Casablanca, Morocco, where she taught English as a Foreign Language in an American Language school. It was soon discovered that she could speak French rather well, and she became a translator and teacher to large organisations and companies such as ‘Regie de Tabac’, Morocco’s largest cigarette company, and the Mediterranean Shipping Company.</span></div>
<div style="border-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px 0px 15px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After a few years she was ‘head-hunted ‘to run the English as a Foreign Language department of a private school in the UK. (Imagine Hogwarts without the wizardry.)</span></div>
<div style="border-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px 0px 15px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Carol taught English up to, and including ‘A’ Level, along with English as a Foreign Language. She also qualified to teach pupils with Dyslexia and became Head of English for Special Needs.</span></div>
<div style="border-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px 0px 15px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In 1988, Carol set up her own language company called Language 2000 Ltd and worked in schools and for companies. She taught a variety of languages, including basic Japanese, to all ages and translated documents.</span></div>
<div style="border-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px 0px 15px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A recurrence of spinal difficulties that began when she was a teenager, forced her to give up teaching and choose a new direction. In order to deal with her health problems, Carol attended a fitness course (Premier), took the qualifications to become a fitness instructor and became a personal trainer. That led her to become a trainer for others, particularly for older people who, like herself, had undergone major surgery.</span></div>
<div style="border-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px 0px 15px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thanks to older age, Carol now no longer trains people, but has written a series of novels, articles and books which takes a humorous look at getting older. It is her hope that they will educate through laughter and help others appreciate life.</span></div>
<div style="border-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px 0px 15px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Carol has also written several short stories over the years, including humorous books for children which served to teach them French. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><i></i></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div>
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<strong style="border-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); border-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Author links</span></strong></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Three-Little-Birds-Carol-Wyer-ebook/dp/B00MNHMW2W" style="border-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cb29d4; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Buy this book via Amazon UK </span></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><a href="http://www.carolewyer.co.uk/#" style="border-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cb29d4; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Find out more about Carol at her website</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Carol-E-Wyer/221149241263847" style="border-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cb29d4; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Like Carol on Facebook</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><a href="https://twitter.com/carolewyer" style="border-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #cb29d4; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Follow Carol on Twitter</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span> </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cb29d4;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"></span></span> </div>
Kim The Book Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06498912722314773900noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6923226901671476431.post-53359286683825251562014-08-14T11:25:00.002+01:002014-08-14T11:36:31.596+01:00Review - Last Kiss by Louise Phillips <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVQECkgjFcvmXTFygrlYjrfRqnuzt-mtrV1zlxLQ_hU8dn0aY257iO4dNhRbGFy384iYVlSYBrMO1XU6yUZwzCYq9ta8iprOX1kzeuLuxuSag_01rq8lxGjeRAG7wFFlNpV_hJ1fklH5U/s1600/Last+Kiss+by+Louise+Phillips+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVQECkgjFcvmXTFygrlYjrfRqnuzt-mtrV1zlxLQ_hU8dn0aY257iO4dNhRbGFy384iYVlSYBrMO1XU6yUZwzCYq9ta8iprOX1kzeuLuxuSag_01rq8lxGjeRAG7wFFlNpV_hJ1fklH5U/s1600/Last+Kiss+by+Louise+Phillips+6.jpg" height="320" width="209" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Her husband is having an affair with a woman who wants her life. How far will she go to take back control? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In a quiet suburb, a woman desperately clings to her sanity as a shadowy presence moves objects around her home.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In a hotel room across the city, an art dealer with a dubious sexual past is found butchered, his body arranged to mimic the Hangman card from the Tarot deck.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But what connects them?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />When criminal psychologist Dr Kate Pearson is brought in to help investigate the murder, she finds herself plunged into a web of sexual power and evil which spreads from Dublin to Paris, and then to Rome.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />Will Kate discover the identity of the killer before it's too late to protect the innocent? But what separates the innocent from the guilty when the sins of the past can never be forgotten? </span></div>
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<a href="http://www.louise-phillips.com/index.php/books/last-kiss/last-kiss-prologue"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>READ THE PROLOGUE »</strong></span></a></div>
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<a class="fancybox-media" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7THx_E6XVpA" rel="media-gallery"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>WATCH TRAILER »</strong></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><u>What did I think?</u> </strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Wow! What a fabulously gripping thriller this was. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">The third in the series and in my opinion the best yet, meant that we get to know Dr Kate Pearson a little more in each book. I love that! She's a terrific character and I love that she's so flipping clever! I could sit in a pub with her and listen to her talking for hours! I wish she'd find as much happiness in her personal life. She seems to struggle with juggling her work and being a parent as she did being a wife. Let's hope that in the next book she overcomes those issues and gives love a chance with someone who understands her work a little more. I hope Louise that there is another book, I'll be quite devastated if not!!! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I read the last 50 pages or so while I was in a kid's play area and I was literally sitting on the edge of my seat and holding my breath. The suspense was incredible. I actually tweeted Louise as at one particularly gruesome part when I felt myself pull such a "ew" face!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">It reminded me of when I used to devour every James Patterson book. I couldn't put Last Kiss down, was desperate to unravel more of this psychological tale!</span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">It was dark, it was deep, it was scary, it chilled me to the bone. It was brilliant! </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDZ8JZj9YdVMu-U6sxHTjZcFlungRDLnX_4tIQweZukEAuWFxe6K6A3vhZFOGrYMzksoQFi4LTPGn2pWwLDaTSah0CbcyQ3knKMJYeSQTU1pyLACS4Qr78bV7RQkeMmdQ4SeZsJMYzKnc/s1600/Louise.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDZ8JZj9YdVMu-U6sxHTjZcFlungRDLnX_4tIQweZukEAuWFxe6K6A3vhZFOGrYMzksoQFi4LTPGn2pWwLDaTSah0CbcyQ3knKMJYeSQTU1pyLACS4Qr78bV7RQkeMmdQ4SeZsJMYzKnc/s1600/Louise.png" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><u>About the Author</u></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Born in Dublin, Louise Phillips returned to writing in 2006, after raising her family. That year, she was selected by Dermot Bolger as an emerging talent in the county. Louise's work has been published as part of many anthologies, including <i>County Lines</i> from New Island, and various literary journals. In 2009, she won the Jonathan Swift Award for her short story <i>Last Kiss</i>, and in 2011 she was a winner in the Irish Writers' Centre Lonely Voice platform. She has also been short-listed for the Molly Keane Memorial Award, Bridport UK, and long-listed twice for the RTE Guide/Penguin Short Story Competition.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In 2012, she was awarded an Arts Bursary for Literature from South Dublin County Council. Her debut novel, <i>Red Ribbons</i>, was shortlisted for Best Irish Crime Novel of the Year (2012) in the Irish Book Awards. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>The Doll's House, </i>her second novel, won the Crime Fiction Book of the Year Award at the BGE Irish Book Awards 2013.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Find out more about Louise at her website <a href="http://www.louise-phillips.com/"><strong>http://www.louise-phillips.com/</strong></a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Last-Kiss-Dr-Kate-Pearson-ebook/dp/product-description/B00LT8ODXM/ref=dp_proddesc_0?ie=UTF8&n=266239&s=books">Buy this book via Amazon UK</a></strong> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><a href="https://twitter.com/LouiseMPhillips">Follow Louise on Twitter</a></strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Louise-Phillips/162696193800590?ref=hl">Like Louise on Facebook</a>.</strong></span><br />
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Kim The Book Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06498912722314773900noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6923226901671476431.post-65133514819076736652014-08-01T10:10:00.000+01:002014-08-01T10:10:50.315+01:00Review - Addicted by Nigel May
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwVUBacBvqWKoPcf-twgg1qbRCJ0F0Qx8OQvKQi2nxIfRLsb47avteI1yEzoImXRKKEnwRZfua9o3ohoDGJatETi43NoLIH_GvktL51cgR93L1H-3jBUefKEH6mtZ47K9Jk1Cl3EjN3pI/s1600/untitled.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwVUBacBvqWKoPcf-twgg1qbRCJ0F0Qx8OQvKQi2nxIfRLsb47avteI1yEzoImXRKKEnwRZfua9o3ohoDGJatETi43NoLIH_GvktL51cgR93L1H-3jBUefKEH6mtZ47K9Jk1Cl3EjN3pI/s1600/untitled.png" height="320" width="224" /></a></div>
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<span style="background: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">Another cracker from Nigel May!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="background: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">Getting clean is a dirty business<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"><br />
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<span style="background: white;">The wine heiress, the faded entertainer, the
operatic diva, the politician's wife - four women who can’t say no….<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="background: white;">Four women who should be happy with what life
has given them. Success, beauty, money and fame. But never judge a book by its
cover, because on the outside they may all seem to be completely in control of
their lives, but under their fashionable facades, deep within their souls, they
are all battling with a common demon…they are all addicted. Addicted to things
that could ruin their very existence. In fact for one, it will snuff it out for
good.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="background: white;">Four women…one death, one killer…<u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="background: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">Nigel May sure does know how to
write a glam fiction novel!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I loved
Trinity, and Addicted didn’t disappoint in any way. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can imagine both of Nigel’s books on TV and
can’t wait to see what he comes up with next.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It starts with a cleverly written
and mysterious prologue which keeps you guessing all the way through the book.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">The four characters are all
glamorous, successful and gorgeous yet they all have issues that they are battling with and are a
particularly catty lot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I loved that! Their lives are all linked and that becomes apparent as the plot unfolds. </span></div>
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<span style="background: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">This is a really entertaining
book, full of intrigue, glamour and everything I come to expect from a Nigel
May book.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Four women, four addictions, one
death….who survives..?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Find out for yourself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can buy
ADDICTED now for all eReaders at <a href="http://mybook.to/ADDICTED_NigelMay"><span style="color: windowtext;"><strong>http://myBook.to/ADDICTED_NigelMay</strong></span></a> - it's just 99p too! Unbelievable value!</span><br />
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Nigel’s first glam fiction novel TRINITY is available for 99p too at </span><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/%20http:/myBook.to/TRINITY_NigelMay"><span style="color: windowtext;"><strong>http://myBook.to/TRINITY_NigelMay</strong></span></a></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWi0CBsrWVWFPrkzqTTVJMLYHh7yNoqZBj3KCiF8epUpiHUzWjhJKssvwZQYQQB01LQRqkYWGN6efw9wiC76tb_vXU-MDl_1ythzEENek3nVtUE7FOmlbO_tvdvNbbQhdgFporWNljpzo/s640/blogger-image--589562400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWi0CBsrWVWFPrkzqTTVJMLYHh7yNoqZBj3KCiF8epUpiHUzWjhJKssvwZQYQQB01LQRqkYWGN6efw9wiC76tb_vXU-MDl_1ythzEENek3nVtUE7FOmlbO_tvdvNbbQhdgFporWNljpzo/s640/blogger-image--589562400.jpg" /></a></div>
Nigel May is a TV presenter and journalist and regularly presents on UK shopping channels.<br /><br />He has written for many of the UK's most successful magazines and newspapers, specialising in showbiz and celebrity, as well as writing on subjects ranging from relationships through to travel. He is also one of the UK's most popular craft personalities, having launched his own successful range, A-May-Zing.<br /><br />Nigel is the only male writer amongst 44 authors featured in the chart-topping, perfect beach-read anthology of short-stories SUNLOUNGER & SUNLOUNGER 2. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">You can follow Nigel on Twitter - www.twitter.com/Nigel_May </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">You can find out more about Nigel via his website www.nigelmay.net </span></div>
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Kim The Book Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06498912722314773900noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6923226901671476431.post-59492808109837731772014-07-27T11:39:00.003+01:002014-07-28T07:49:10.817+01:00Join Paige Toon on her blog tour
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Delighted today to kick-off Paige Toon's blog tour. There's 13 stops on the blog tour and you can follow them all here. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_ODtBI87vbCRFKpiurF4mPAwGlTwGJcINxGUgy3NGCAsS87iEeUEMjXYcoqJDus_RPtnQ-Z-vmKOl4d9ku9lpYcOay0Ne8cW9DU_aon2-tz6mu-QIyuOV9X1EMZCvcdc3vAEcXGhwxDg/s1600/Blog+square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_ODtBI87vbCRFKpiurF4mPAwGlTwGJcINxGUgy3NGCAsS87iEeUEMjXYcoqJDus_RPtnQ-Z-vmKOl4d9ku9lpYcOay0Ne8cW9DU_aon2-tz6mu-QIyuOV9X1EMZCvcdc3vAEcXGhwxDg/s1600/Blog+square.jpg" height="451" width="640"></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Paige joins me today specifically to tell us about the pictures that inspired Thirteen Weddings. Reading this really does make the book come alive! Over to you Paige:<strong> </strong></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaBNxilwp00yqWAuIBJ18Txjcw5RGX3MhyphenhyphenhNpU7zY8TMIDhyTE2FK9jh-Zv2NDw4djmki2205M-Ws5P5fPdrCJUJQcaKdLrFAL8oPNXx_shxl8bm79mPO6vfYbXNxLj7LiIIZMqbJrxUs/s1600/thirteenwedd_paperback_1471113418_72.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaBNxilwp00yqWAuIBJ18Txjcw5RGX3MhyphenhyphenhNpU7zY8TMIDhyTE2FK9jh-Zv2NDw4djmki2205M-Ws5P5fPdrCJUJQcaKdLrFAL8oPNXx_shxl8bm79mPO6vfYbXNxLj7LiIIZMqbJrxUs/s1600/thirteenwedd_paperback_1471113418_72.jpg" height="320" width="210"></a></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Pics That Inspired 13W<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Just before I started working on <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Thirteen Weddings</i>, about a wedding photographer who falls in love
with a groom, I was asked to take part in a local charity a</span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_GoBack"></a><span style="font-family: Verdana;">uction.
The organisers wanted me to offer the chance to win a named character in my
next book, so I agreed, but never in a million years did I think that the
winning bid would be from a wedding photographer (who had no idea what my next
book was about). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">The name of the photographer is LinaOrsino, and she ended up
helping me <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">massively</i> with my
research. In my book, Bronte gets some part-time work with wedding photographer
Rachel, who learnt everything she knows from a wedding photographer called
LinaOrsino. She’s not wrong… I don’t know what I would have done without all of
Lina’s help.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">In reality, Lina is one half of Lina& Tom, and many of
their stunning weddingshoots inspired scenes in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Thirteen Weddings</i>. Here are just a handful, but if you’d like to
see more of their work or talk to them about photographing your wedding, here
is their website: </span><a href="http://www.linaandtom.com/"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana;">www.linaandtom.com</span></a><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> –
but be quick, they book up early!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR1EGFMdhOeHN8GdNeg6bijzKf_ea2km3Z7u3X6obBXb8xUSw5MH7pv48mzhEV580kduAYA2puRlKVBSUg6jbRvWTokl_tQEdWYR4S4EcKfjkggi4LJ1uwgEslxKyp1gTteuYMqVL8tZ4/s1600/Ely.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR1EGFMdhOeHN8GdNeg6bijzKf_ea2km3Z7u3X6obBXb8xUSw5MH7pv48mzhEV580kduAYA2puRlKVBSUg6jbRvWTokl_tQEdWYR4S4EcKfjkggi4LJ1uwgEslxKyp1gTteuYMqVL8tZ4/s1600/Ely.jpg" height="213" width="320"></a></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Groom in Ely
Cathedral<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Lina handles the front-of-church shots like this magnificent
one of a groom with the vast expanse of Ely Cathedral behind him. This shot
inspired the setting for Bronte’s eighth wedding. Lina’s partner Tom is at the
back of the cathedral, capturing the bride’s arrival. Once the bride is past
him, Tom’s primary focus is to capture the groom’s expression when he sees his
bride for the first time. Lina, meanwhile, captures the corresponding shot of
the bride. When Lina told me this, I decided to put Bronte at the back of the
church – and this impacts on her heavily when she has to shoot the love of her
life, Alex, on his wedding day.It’s just one example of how much Lina helped
me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Lina told me about this wedding, and even though I only
mention it in passing in the book, I thought you might like to see it. The
bride and groom and all of the congregation wore traditional wedding outfits
from the neck down, but on their heads, they wore crazy headgear. Here the
groom is wearing a Roman Centurion helmet, and the bride has a magpie’s nest on
her head which is full of sparkling jewels. Lina and Tom think it’s great when
people choose to do something a little bit different – I think they look
amazing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><strong>Kiss In The Rain</strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I talk about this shot in hindsight in the book, but
originally I wrote about this scene in full. My editor thought it slowed the pace
down (she was right) so it’s now one of my deleted scenes on this blog tour. (<span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Visit </span><span style="color: black;">fabulousbookfiend.blogspot.co.uk
on 1 August </span>to read it!) Most brides and grooms would be disappointed if
it was raining on their wedding day, but Linaand Tom prove that shots in the
rain like this one can be beautifully romantic. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMLeSipfax-bCnHVTaXjksizZDCYUuofqK-a9FlIJSls5_d-og2wIS88svGCErIu7xbVyK9KmNwDYZcVQRBkKZ__fRiY0ziJF7UUAqDgrkny7gYnAUs_0aYWSrIS9w4MhsrS9CgXy5gq8/s1600/YES!.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMLeSipfax-bCnHVTaXjksizZDCYUuofqK-a9FlIJSls5_d-og2wIS88svGCErIu7xbVyK9KmNwDYZcVQRBkKZ__fRiY0ziJF7UUAqDgrkny7gYnAUs_0aYWSrIS9w4MhsrS9CgXy5gq8/s1600/YES!.jpg" height="320" width="213"></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><strong>‘YES!’</strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Lina and Tom excel at capturing candid snapshots of a couple’s
big day, and when she told me about this moment, I just had to include it in
Bronte’s first wedding. In the book, Bronte rushes outside the church, just in
time for the bride and groom to burst out of the door, the groom shouting,
‘YES!’ How cute do they look? I love this shot.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">A note from Paige: Sign up to my book club, ‘The Hidden
Paige’, at </span><a href="http://www.paigetoon.com/"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana;">www.paigetoon.com</span></a><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> for free
short stories, competitions and the chance to find out more about me and my
characters and what we’re all up to.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Follow me on Twitter @PaigeToonAuthor or visit me at
<a href="http://www.facebook.com/PaigeToonAuthor">www.Facebook.com/PaigeToonAuthor</a>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong><u><em>Buy links</em></u></strong></span><br>
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<span style="color: #1f497d;"><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Thirteen-Weddings-Paige-Toon-ebook/dp/B00EBA5ONS/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1406283008&sr=1-1&keywords=thirteen+weddings" target="_blank"><span style="color: #8c0095; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">http://www.amazon.co.uk/Thirteen-Weddings-Paige-Toon-ebook/dp/B00EBA5ONS/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1406283008&sr=1-1&keywords=thirteen+weddings</span></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1f497d;"><a class="c_nobdr t_prs" href="https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Paige_Toon_Thirteen_Weddings?id=ZQujAgAAQBAJ" target="_blank"><span style="color: #8c0095; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Paige_Toon_Thirteen_Weddings?id=ZQujAgAAQBAJ</span></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1f497d;"><a href="https://www.blinkboxbooks.com/#%21/book/9781471113420/thirteen-weddings" target="_blank"><span style="color: #8c0095; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">https://www.blinkboxbooks.com/#!/book/9781471113420/thirteen-weddings</span></a></span></div>
Kim The Book Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06498912722314773900noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6923226901671476431.post-49107946458663224262014-07-18T08:27:00.001+01:002014-07-18T08:27:51.425+01:00Day 4 - Hot Chocolate and Tea Cakes by Amanda Prowse<span style="line-height: 22.71px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today I am super excited to share with you part four in the exclusive short story from Amanda Prowse. The other stops are listed below.</span></span></span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hot Chocolate and Teacakes b</span></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">y Amanda Prowse</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">‘Nah.’ Poppy looked at her scuffed toes, happy that he seemed concerned and yet slightly embarrassed that he was familiar with the taunts fired in her direction from Jackie Sinclair ‘<i>you’re a stinky flea bag Poppy Day!’ </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">‘I can’t write that essay on what we like most about our dad’s,’ she looked up, letting the obvious implication sink in. ‘I don’t know what to put.’ It was easy to admit things to Martin Cricket; as her Nan said, they were birds of a feather. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">‘<i>You </i>don’t know what to put?’ he sighed, ‘I wrote a whole page but ripped it up and started again.’</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">‘What did you do that for?’ she was puzzled. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">‘Cos when I read it back, it said, the best thing about my dad is when he is asleep or up the pub and not near me.’ </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Poppy laughed loudly. ‘We’re a right pair in’t we?’ It was all she could think of to mask the sadness that her friend’s comments revealed, life for him in a cramped flat with a bully was no fun.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1f497d;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;">Yesterday's instalment can be found at </span><a href="http://lauraslittlebookblog.blogspot.co.uk/"><strong>http://lauraslittlebookblog.blogspot.co.uk</strong></a></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 22.71px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Stop by </span><a href="http://shelovestoread.wordpress.com/"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>http://shelovestoread.wordpress.com/</strong></span></a></span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; line-height: 22.71px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> for tomorrows instalment.</span></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSArvjecoQ2jeHqLAlZEKo5fePyrOBNaZywa7cFN1KcH0Ph9iebFkyxOpjWm2o0szTY2wmyAyziwOJph4Mp2YnqTDnUYO3XuWqZOGM89Bt-0c-QFFhIwWl_b7XEiMB72BdLCt0VKCi2i0/s1600/PROWSE_Will+You+Remember+Me_.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSArvjecoQ2jeHqLAlZEKo5fePyrOBNaZywa7cFN1KcH0Ph9iebFkyxOpjWm2o0szTY2wmyAyziwOJph4Mp2YnqTDnUYO3XuWqZOGM89Bt-0c-QFFhIwWl_b7XEiMB72BdLCt0VKCi2i0/s1600/PROWSE_Will+You+Remember+Me_.JPG" width="200" /></span></span></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Will You Rememember Me? is out now! Get your copy from </span><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Will-You-Remember-Greater-Love/dp/1781856516/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1405513648&sr=8-1" target="_blank"><span style="color: #f45145; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Amazon UK</span></a></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After reading this incredible book this week, I was inspired to write a blog post about it. You can read this post </span><a href="http://kimthebookworm.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/review-will-you-remember-me-by-amanda.html"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">here</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. </span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 20.82px;"><b><u><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">About Amanda:</span></u></b></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9lFvXfpT2PvtzPaPeBVKqu0ZHicQLHTwC5qA2KvXDYIrhi9srt4ng5LocRzlp4ykJu0l96wkswigpCQsiEm7ErH6BbBLGZYPsMmkgn7vfW-4IzGjT7a8A7AZzwGdJ8y0LxdN8z2U8Gw8/s1600/Amanda+Prowse+Book+Shots+(22+of+26).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9lFvXfpT2PvtzPaPeBVKqu0ZHicQLHTwC5qA2KvXDYIrhi9srt4ng5LocRzlp4ykJu0l96wkswigpCQsiEm7ErH6BbBLGZYPsMmkgn7vfW-4IzGjT7a8A7AZzwGdJ8y0LxdN8z2U8Gw8/s1600/Amanda+Prowse+Book+Shots+(22+of+26).JPG" width="214" /></span></span></a></div>
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<span style="line-height: 20.82px;"><a href="http://amandaprowse.org/"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #f45145; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">http://amandaprowse.org</span></span></a></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 20.82px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Amanda has always obsessively crafted short stories and scribbled notes for potential books. Five years ago, she quit her job as a management consultant and began writing full time. The result was Poppy Day, the story of an army wife, whose incredible love for her husband gives her the courage to rescue him from hostages in Afghanistan. Originally self-published in October 2011 with 100% of royalties going to the Royal British Legion, Poppy Day quickly became a bestseller and Amanda was signed up by Head of Zeus publishers.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 20.82px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Follow Amanda on Twitter @MrsAmandaProwse</span></span></span></div>
Kim The Book Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06498912722314773900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6923226901671476431.post-80319475950304304962014-07-17T10:02:00.001+01:002014-07-17T10:04:35.723+01:00Review - Will You Remember Me? by Amanda Prowse<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">WOW! What an incredible book! It broke my heart, it made me think about life and mortality, it stirred up lots of memories around my darling mom being stolen from us by that vile cancer disease. Last night, I sobbed uncontrollably at this heart-wrenching book and at one point couldn't read anymore because I couldn't breathe for crying! I couldn't see the pages because they just blurred beneath my tears. I think I got through a whole toilet roll before I calmed myself down and brought myself back to a state where I could read the end which was just beautiful! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I just want to order every book that Amanda Prowse has written and devour them one after the other. I reviewed A Little Love last year, <a href="http://kimthebookworm.blogspot.co.uk/2014/04/wow-oh-wow-oh-wow-pru-plumowner-of.html"><strong>click here for my review</strong></a>. I adored that book! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She has an incredible way of making you shut outside the world and totally focus on the story and her amazing characters. She takes you on a rollercoaster journey of emotions as if the story was happening to you! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Amanda Prowse - you are an incredible author. To be able to stir up such huge emotions, truly is a gift.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here's some blurb about the book, which I also have to say has one of the most gorgeous covers I've ever seen. Then I wanted to share some thoughts I've had since I read that last page. I'm sure that this must have been a difficult book for Amanda to write as some of the things in the book have occurred in real life. I would love to meet Amanda one day and give her a HUMUNGOUS hug! </span><br />
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<strong><u><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Book Blurb</span></u></strong><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How do you say goodbye to your family for the last time?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Poppy Day is looking forward to her best year yet. She's thirty-two, married to her childhood sweetheart, and a full-time mum of two gorgeous children. She loves her clean little house in the countryside - a far cry from the London estate where she grew up. Her husband Mart, a soldier, has just returned safe and sound from his latest tour. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But Poppy is so busy caring for others, she hasn't noticed the fatigue in her body, or the menacing lump growing on her breast. If there's anyone strong and deserving enough to defeat cancer it's Poppy. After all, she's fought harder battles than this. But does life really work like that? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><u>Here are the thoughts I'm feeling today:</u></strong> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1. I've always wanted to write a letter to Ollie, so if ever anything happens to me, he knows just how much his mom has loved him from the minute I knew he was growing in my body. He has made my life complete! I have a memory box but it doesn't explain what the things in it are and the story behind them. I would like to ensure he knows what each and every thing in his box meant to his mom. I need to do it now! Who knows what is around the corner. Don't put something off that is important to you.<br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2. Life is short, don't fall out with people who are really important to you and that you've had years of happiness with. Sometimes we do and say silly things and they are not always done to hurt you, they're just done. If you can get past things that have hurt you, you can be at peace with yourself. Forgiving someone doesn't take away what happened, but it does take away the hurt and pain that you are feeling inside and that is eating you up inside. You can't ever change something that happens but you can change how you feel about it. Hurt goes away. Don't let important people do the same. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">3. When I die, I want to leave wonderful memories behind me so that people remember me with love and happiness. I plan to make beautiful memories that my son will hold in his heart forever. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />4. I have never forgotten my mom and I think about her every day. She was the best mom that I could have ever wished for. I pledge to do all I can in my life to be the best mom I could ever be to Ollie so that when I'm not around, he remembers me with love and happiness and knows just how loved he has been. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />5. When I die, I will always be around the people that I love helping and supporting them. I will also </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">use an amazing lady called Michelle Davies if she'll let me to come back and prove to you that I am around you! You just won't be able to see me anymore but I will do everything in my power to let you know I'm still around you! I will drop feathers, I will put things in your way to make you stop, I will move things, I will be there! And I promise to scoot off when 'personal' things happen! Believe me, I have no wish to see my friends on the loo or doing rudies! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">6. I know now that I have NEVER got over losing my mom. I have learned to live with the fact that she's not in my life anymore but I will not let it be a thing that I hold onto with sadness and grief. I will remember her as being the person who gave me life and loved me whatever I did even if she didn't agree with me (in many cases!). I will make her proud of me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">7. I don't have to tell people who are crap just how crap they are even if their actions and behaviour has affected my life massively. They have to live with themselves. Telling them what I think of them (which I would dearly love to do to some people) is not productive for me. It might make me feel better but it is something that they then have to live with. They probably already know that they are crap! They probably already feel awful about it. However, if you are this person who is crap - you can do something about it. Be someone </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">8. Life is precious, life is a gift and one day we will all die. It's the cycle of life. I am not afraid to die. I believe that my mom will be waiting for me. I believe that mom and dad are together now and one day I will see them again. Part of me is really looking forward to that, although I have so much more to do here before I'm planning on leaving. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">9. Don't let things that have happened to you in the past, shape your future. Too many people say that they're the way they are because of something that affected them years ago! Life is for living, not being bitter and twisted over something that you can't change! Get over it! Move on! Be the person, you want to be not the person you think that other people have made you. YOU control your destiny. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">10. Don't whinge and whine! If you don't like something - change it! You have the power to do that! People will be around to support you, but they can't do it for you. Pick yourself up, dust yourself down, get help if you need it, but you have to help yourself. You make a choice in the morning when you wake up to be happy or miserable. People want to be surrounded by upbeat, happy, positive people. Negativity is like poison! Get rid of it! Do you want to be remembered as a miserable old git that no-one wants to be around or a person who people love to be around? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">11. Think about others more than yourself. Treat people how you would like to be treated. If you treat people with respect, kindness and try your hardest to be nice to people. And don't forget if you are horrible to me, remember what I said in No 5! I'LL STILL BE AROUND YOU KNOW! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don't think a book has ever had such an impact on me! I'm feeling SO emotional today! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kim </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/aw/d/1781856516?pc_redir=1404225755&robot_redir=1">Amazon UK</a></span><br />
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<br />Kim The Book Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06498912722314773900noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6923226901671476431.post-32369686291374122212014-07-08T13:00:00.001+01:002014-07-10T10:10:10.875+01:00Review - Holiday Reads by Elaine Spires<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhHBf1S4ejzP5FiS7v5OuhoHHk0EHsIKaFoITTNbxyFBjZWk_HERquP3q0sdnvrpx-HObzuW29_X5IAsMOWBMF8hdQvi3RCeOg-6njsVU7rb29-L2af858Z3q9CWunF_1m_UBLf_rXj70/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhHBf1S4ejzP5FiS7v5OuhoHHk0EHsIKaFoITTNbxyFBjZWk_HERquP3q0sdnvrpx-HObzuW29_X5IAsMOWBMF8hdQvi3RCeOg-6njsVU7rb29-L2af858Z3q9CWunF_1m_UBLf_rXj70/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhHBf1S4ejzP5FiS7v5OuhoHHk0EHsIKaFoITTNbxyFBjZWk_HERquP3q0sdnvrpx-HObzuW29_X5IAsMOWBMF8hdQvi3RCeOg-6njsVU7rb29-L2af858Z3q9CWunF_1m_UBLf_rXj70/s1600/photo.JPG" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Seven short stories for your sun-lounger - or wherever you read them in fact, will be thoroughly enjoyed in this anthology of entertaining, interesting and delightful tales. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Seven women, each with a different holiday problem. Meet, Olivia, who wishes she wasn't on a tennis holiday; Estelle, alone on a cruise; Fiona who's flying too close for comfort; Shelley, who shouldn't have got involved with a foreigner; Alison who finds out her husband's off on a cruise - but not with her!; Eloise who's having a rotten time in Ibiza and Karla who's desperate for her family holiday in Corfu to go well. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've read all of Elaine's books and have enjoyed every single one of them. She's great at writing twists into her plots and creating characters that are believable and you can relate to. I immediately become immersed in her books which while I normally find hard with short stories, I found really easy when reading Holiday Reads. I could quite happily have gone on to read a book about each of the women in this collection, the characters were so engaging.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">She's also really great at making you create the place she's writing about from her descriptions. This, I think is a really great skill. I feel like I've been around the world with these stories. This also goes to show that you can go anywhere when you are a reader! And I have to add that I love the cover of this book! It's my dream! </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtsYZlStt88PXXQVAKHB25suZi8-u74OdrongoQfjW31IbLqfKA0pHspRWDphmF5_Crp4tJEqTkByCKCW3g9D_iF3kZ80PrpCwc9Vdg9ixUmjVXwuNLPu-HYNQGtKPHtAfzZtKVviyvhg/s1600/Elaine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtsYZlStt88PXXQVAKHB25suZi8-u74OdrongoQfjW31IbLqfKA0pHspRWDphmF5_Crp4tJEqTkByCKCW3g9D_iF3kZ80PrpCwc9Vdg9ixUmjVXwuNLPu-HYNQGtKPHtAfzZtKVviyvhg/s1600/Elaine.jpg" height="200" width="133" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Elaine Spires is an author, playwright and an actress. She spends her time between her homes in Essex and in Antigua (I am sooooo not jealous!). She has used her background in education and tourism to capture the quirky characteristics of people and humorous observations which she shares in her novels.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She is also an entertaining and informative after-dinner and motivational speaker and eulogist. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You can buy Holidays Reads</span><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00L4K4R40"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> via Amazon UK</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You can find out more about Elaine Spires and her other fabulously entertaining books at </span><a href="http://www.elainespires.co.uk/"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">www.elainespires.co.uk</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You can </span><a href="http://www.twitter.com/ElaineSpires"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">follow Elaine Spires on Twitter</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You can </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/ElaineSpiresAuthor"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">like Elaine Spires Author on Facebook</span></a>Kim The Book Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06498912722314773900noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6923226901671476431.post-85974241011650342642014-07-04T11:23:00.003+01:002014-07-04T11:23:44.367+01:00Review - The School Gate Survial Guide by Kerry Fisher<div class="ecxMsoNormal">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Feisty Maia Etxeleku is a cleaner for ladies who lunch. She spends her life wiping up spilt Sauvignon and hoovering around handbags before rushing back home to skivvy after her children's feckless father on an estate where survival depends on your ability to look the other way.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But an unusual inheritance catapults her into a different world where no child can survive without organic apricots and Kumon maths classes – and no woman can contemplate a week without Pilates and pedicures.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As she blunders through a middle class minefield, dashing from coffee mornings to her mops and buckets, she is drawn to the one man who can help her family fit in. But is his interest in her purely professional or will her modern My Fair Lady experiment end in disaster?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">This was such a good book, which I couldn't wait to read more of. I loved and connected with the character of Maia from the very first page. She was a mom first and foremost who was doing what she thought was the right thing for her children even if that meant putting her own happiness to the back of the pile. I could completely relate to this and loved her for it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Her partner was abusive to her, not particularly physically but certainly mentally, and completely dragged her down each day with his laziness, grumpiness and general lack of respect for her and his children. When she met people who showed her that people can be nice, and made new friends, she realised that there was more to life and she took control which is such a difficult and brave thing to do. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I'd have loved to be friends with Maia and also with her new friend from school: Clover who was completely fabulous. She didn't care what people thought of her and Maia learned a lot from her. Mr Peters was also a bit of a hero in my eyes. I liked his character a lot! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">The plot was great, the writing was brilliant, the characters adorable (except for Colin who I hated with quite a passion - the lazy arse!), the ending was perfect and fabulous. It really was an excellently entertaining read that I would highly recommend. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">The only thing that I struggled with in this book was pronouncing Maia's surname as I found myself skipping over it each time as my head couldn't get round it! I know it was explained at one point in the book, but I still couldn't say it! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I will definitely read more from this author. I thoroughly enjoyed this book! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Kerry was brought up in Peterborough. She now lives in Surrey with a very tolerant husband and two children. She studied at Bath University and speaks fluent Italian, Spanish and French. She also trained as a journalist at City University, then went on to write travel guides for Thomas Cook. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">After landing her dream job working on women's magazines, she discovered that she wasn't able to write about real people in case their families got upset. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">The Writer's Program at the University of California helped her to move from fact to fiction - the perfect forum for exploring human emotions without worrying about some poor mother weeping over her son's account of his childhood.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Find out more about Kerry at her website <a href="http://www.kerryfisherauthor.com/">www.kerryfisherauthor.com</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><a href="http://www.twitter.com/KerryFSwayne">www.twitter.com/KerryFSwayne</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><a href="http://www.twitter.com/AvonBooksUK">www.twitter.com/AvonBooksUK</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Buy this book via <b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00I2GZQ0S/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=B00I2GZQ0S&linkCode=as2&tag=aspoofhapend-21"><span style="color: #6ea1bb;">Amazon.co.uk</span></a> / <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Kerry-Fisher/e/B00AOAAXJ4/?_encoding=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&linkCode=ur2&tag=aspoofhapend-20&linkId=AVWPEONN43D4Q4TW" target="_blank"><span style="color: #6ea1bb;">Amazon.com</span></a></span></b></span></div>
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Kim The Book Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06498912722314773900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6923226901671476431.post-80078094503155377882014-06-30T21:30:00.002+01:002014-06-30T21:30:28.926+01:00Review - Cupid's Way by Joanne Phillips<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When Evie Stone's grandparents enlist her help to save their home in Cupid's Way, Evie is happy to oblige. On the cusp of her thirties, and still disappointingly single, Evie's so-called dream job with a firm of architects has been driving her crazy for months. What she needs, even more than a new man, is a challenge.<br /><br />But saving Cupid's Way won't be easy. A perfectly preserved Victorian terrace, surrounded by modern estates and retail parks, the street is a proud oasis of quirky characters, cobbled pathways and communal gardens. Unfortunately, it also sits on prime development land worth millions.<br /><br />Dynamite Construction have the deal in the bag, and soon the residents of Cupid's Way will be forced to sell up and ship out - CEO Michael Andrews, charismatic and super-successful, has certainly never let sentimentality get in the way of business. At least, he hadn't until he met Evie Stone. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I enjoyed this book from the very first page. I thought Evie was a delightful character, feisty and genuinely good. I loved Mavis and Frank, her grandparents and the strong relationship she had with them. I cried when I found out why Mavis didn't want to leave the house, feeling her emotions deep inside of me. Michael, I thought was a great character too, and I really enjoyed the sparky moments between him and Evie. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The way that the book was written felt like even the characters that didn't have such a big part, were perfectly developed, easily imaginable and absolutely integral and necessary for the plot to flow. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is a story about people fighting for what they believe in and to keep their memories alive and doing whatever it takes to make that happen. The fact that the ending was happy-ever-after made it all the more delightful for me. I do love a happy ending! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've read and enjoyed all of Jo's books but I definitely think that this is her best one yet. Her writing seems to have developed into something more over the years I've been reading her work. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A really great read Joanne, well done! </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyhhz3QMKWPC_SsbMMrTqZcZxfsFa3ayKg5KKNY6YryATC5j3U39oMeF12yG0ZqTWt4ehIOYzv_x_BOz7BSyfeDrYkA88TChNK3hAXv92pg0b7aDjkwXqt2X9sswmH0prVPFJ3y1frqnQ/s1600/Jo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyhhz3QMKWPC_SsbMMrTqZcZxfsFa3ayKg5KKNY6YryATC5j3U39oMeF12yG0ZqTWt4ehIOYzv_x_BOz7BSyfeDrYkA88TChNK3hAXv92pg0b7aDjkwXqt2X9sswmH0prVPFJ3y1frqnQ/s1600/Jo.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Joanne Phillips lives in rural Shropshire with her husband and young daughter. She's the author of romantic comedies Can't Live Without and The Family Trap, and the Flora Lively series of contemporary mysteries. Can't Live Without was an Amazon top 20 bestseller in 2012 and her books regularly appear on category bestseller lists. Before becoming a writer, Joanne had jobs as diverse as hairdresser, air hostess and librarian, but now divides her time between writing and finding creative ways to avoid housework. She's a fan of super-dark chocolate, iced coffee and Masterchef. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">You can <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Cupids-Way-Joanne-Phillips-ebook/dp/B00L8WS9K2/ref=cm_cr_pr_product_top"><strong>buy this book via Amazon UK</strong></a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Visit </span><a href="http://www.joannephillips.co.uk/"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>www.joannephillips.co.uk</strong></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> to say hello.</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.twitter.com/joannegphillips"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>Follow Jo on Twitter</strong></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong> </strong></span><br />
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=242399279197854"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>Like Jo on Facebook</strong></span></a> Kim The Book Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06498912722314773900noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6923226901671476431.post-27689058667996829172014-06-30T21:08:00.002+01:002014-07-05T10:37:26.469+01:00Review - Fallen for Rock by Nicky Wells<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl9WKSNNDi5XdT2oIQcJ_WM-ltTUy47HSn6TvN07pvBUhCTZKFVIHZWMOf1zsHbu-QbofU2h19VUD5G4f98bM_sLVgSA9fuORzI5Wg7zZnciVvbQlOZ6BaDBPvViz-__SLs5p1yV4t0pY/s1600/FFR_Cover9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl9WKSNNDi5XdT2oIQcJ_WM-ltTUy47HSn6TvN07pvBUhCTZKFVIHZWMOf1zsHbu-QbofU2h19VUD5G4f98bM_sLVgSA9fuORzI5Wg7zZnciVvbQlOZ6BaDBPvViz-__SLs5p1yV4t0pY/s1600/FFR_Cover9.jpg" height="320" width="213"></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Love, life, loyalties. Nothing stays the same when Emily gets drawn into the world of rock. </span><br><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Glossy and sophisticated professional high-flyer Emily has no time for nonsense such as the rock music her ex-boyfriend Nate adored so much. Yet when she unexpectedly comes into possession of VIP tickets—access all areas—for new rock band phenomenon, MonX, she can’t resist the temptation. </span><br><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The fateful gig turns into more than one night, and Emily finds herself strangely drawn to this new and unfamiliar glittery world. However, only weeks later, MonX and her own universe fall apart with devastating consequences for all. When MonX lead singer Mike appeals for her help, she reluctantly embraces a new opportunity. But she soon discovers that while she may be a rock chick after all, a groupie she is not… Or is she? </span><br><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Just exactly where do her loyalties lie? And what direction will her life take now that she’s left behind everything she treasured? </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I really enjoyed this book. It was really refreshing to read a Nicky Wells book with new characters who were really well formed. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I loved the way that Emily changed so much as a person throughout the book and realised that life could be so much more fun if she just let her hair down a bit and enjoyed herself. I would happily go on to read more books about Emily! I liked her! I thought that Mike was a great character, not that I've ever known a rock star but he was all I wanted him to be. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The plot was good, Nicky is really good at setting a scene so you can easily picture it in your head and I enjoyed the ending too. There were lots of laughs along the way too, which I expect from a Nicky Wells book. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A thoroughly entertaining read!</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>About Nicky Wells: Romance that Rocks Your World!</strong> </span><br><span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Nicky Wells is your ultimate rock chick author. Signed to US Publisher, Sapphire Star Publishing, she writes Romance That Rocks Your World, featuring the rock star and the girl next door… because there's no better romantic hero than a golden-voiced bad boy with a secret soft heart and a magical stage presence! </span><br><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Nicky’s books offer glitzy, glamorous romance with rock stars—imagine Bridget Jones ROCKS Notting Hill! If you’ve ever had a crush on any kind of celebrity, you’ll connect with Nicky’s heroes and their leading ladies. </span><br><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Nicky loves listening to rock music, dancing, and eating lobsters. When she’s not writing, she’s a wife, mother, occasional knitter, and regular contributor at Lincoln’s Siren 107.3 FM. Rock on!</span><br><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Nicky's books: </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Sophies-Turn-Rock-Romance-ebook/dp/B00961HXC2/"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sophie’s Turn</span></span></a><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> | </span></span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Sophies-Rock-Star-Romance-Series-ebook/dp/B00BBK38UM/"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sophie’s Run</span></span></a><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> | </span></span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Sophies-Encore-Rock-Romance-Series-ebook/dp/B00EXXDVF6/"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sophie’s Encore</span></span></a><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> | </span></span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Spirits-Christmas-Nicky-Wells-ebook/dp/B00G9GNAP6/"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Spirits of Christmas</span></span></a><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span><br><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br>
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<a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Fallen-Rock-Nicky-Wells-ebook/dp/B00LD0E8L8/ref=cm_cr_pr_product_top"><strong><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">***You can buy Fallen for Rock — by clicking here***</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></strong></a></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Join Nicky:</span></span></b><a href="http://nickywells.com/"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Blog</span></span></a><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> | </span></span><a href="https://twitter.com/#!/WellsNicky"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Twitter</span></span></a><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> | </span></span><a href="http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Nicky-Wells/240322162658246"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Facebook</span></span></a><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> | </span></span><a href="http://www.romanticnovelistsassociation.org/index.php/about/author/nicky_wells"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Romantic Novelists’ Association</span></span></a><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><u><span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> |</span></u></span></span><a href="http://www.sapphirestarpublishing.com/nickywells/"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sapphire Star Publishing</span></span></a><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> | </span></span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Nicky-Wells/e/B005CGMAY6/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Amazon</span></span></a><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> | </span></span><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/wwwgoodreadscomnicky_wells"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Goodreads</span></span></a><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">| </span></span><a href="http://pinterest.com/nickywellsrocks/"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Pinterest</span></span></a></div>
Kim The Book Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06498912722314773900noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6923226901671476431.post-35940760511751945012014-06-30T07:23:00.003+01:002014-06-30T07:23:59.539+01:00Review - One Hundred Proposals by Holly Martin<div class="s2" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
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<span class="s6" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-weight: bold;">‘Is there really such a thing as a perfect proposal?</span></div>
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<span class="s8" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-style: italic;">Over the next hundred days I intend to find out. I will find one hundred ways to propose to our Chief Proposer Suzie McKenzie and post the results here for your enjoyment. One thing’s for sure, not one of my proposals will be on top of the Eiffel Tower with a dozen red roses.’</span></div>
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<span class="s3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Best friends Suzie and Harry are partners in romance. That is, they run the.PerfectProposal.com, coming to the aid of would-be grooms to create the ultimate marriage proposal.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="s3">But when Harry decides to catapult the business into the big leagues with a PR stunt all Suzie can see is a hundred days of heartbreak stretching ahead of her. But however exotic the location, or breath-</span><span class="s3">takingly</span><span class="s3"> romantic the setting, Suzie has to keep remembering that ‘Marry Me?’ is the one question she can’t say yes to.</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s6" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-weight: bold;">This business proposal should come with one hundred broken heart warnings...</span></div>
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<span class="s6" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-weight: bold;">One hundred proposals, one hundred chances to say yes.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>So, what did I think?</b> </span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I absolutely adored this book. I loved the plot, loved the characters, and the ending couldn't have been more perfect in my eyes! I had tears streaming down my face, tears of complete happiness! </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Holly's writing style is just delightful. The story flows so well and I could not bear to be parted from this book for more than a few minutes at a time. When it finished, I felt like I was losing my best friends! Left me with such a warm, loving, happy fuzzy feeling, giving me hope and romance back in my life when I'm a bit of a cynical old bag at times (my friends will confirm that!)</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've never been married. Come very close a couple of times but certainly never got a proposal like any of these in the book. I do now however, blame Holly Martin for raising my expectations of not only the perfect man but of the perfect proposal too! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think this is one of the most romantic books I've EVER read! Just gorgeous! </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s3" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Amazon UK </span><a href="http://amzn.to/1ouP9w0"><span class="s10" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">http://amzn.to/1ouP9w0</span></a></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="s3">Amazon US </span><span class="s10"><a href="http://amzn.to/1pzKhVi">http://amzn.to/1pzKhVi</a></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s3" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Bio</span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_GoBack"></a></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="s3">Holly has</span><span class="s3"> been writing for five years, mainly chick-lit novels. </span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">Changing Casanova</span><span class="s3"> and </span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">The Chainsaw Masquerade</span><span class="s3"> </span><span class="s3">were shortlisted for the Festival of Romance New Talent Award 2012. Her shor</span><span class="s3">t story </span><span class="s3">won the Belinda Jones Travel Club short story competition last year and was published in the first </span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">Sunlounger</span><span class="s3"> </span><span class="s3">anthology. Her fantasy adventure young-adult book, </span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">The Sentinel</span><span class="s3">, was published in October and hit three different bestsellers lists within twenty four hours. She won the Carina Valentine’s competition at the Festival of Romance 2013 and her novel </span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">The Guestbook</span><span class="s3"> </span><span class="s3">was released on Valentine’s Day 2014.</span><span class="s3"> Her short story </span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">Beneath </span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">The</span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;"> Bay Bridge</span><span class="s3"> is in this year’s </span><span class="s3">Sunlounger</span></span><span class="s3"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> 2 anthology</span>. </span></span></div>
Kim The Book Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06498912722314773900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6923226901671476431.post-57968428889973088532014-06-26T07:32:00.001+01:002014-06-26T07:35:24.325+01:00Review - The All or Nothing Girl by Amanda Egan<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGTtfafm2SBz8ClWZq2EVOTtEKxD5SVbUcw9JLlfknrQc364HsgAm21DRJrLG3KFO1GwxfuU4YXBwXEwiLLMnCUkeAlq7rxO6Y7DI54KWlcA8FTg0GHFNG6nD2aTGpx-OPujnVUemXREE/s640/blogger-image-557087004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGTtfafm2SBz8ClWZq2EVOTtEKxD5SVbUcw9JLlfknrQc364HsgAm21DRJrLG3KFO1GwxfuU4YXBwXEwiLLMnCUkeAlq7rxO6Y7DI54KWlcA8FTg0GHFNG6nD2aTGpx-OPujnVUemXREE/s640/blogger-image-557087004.jpg"></a></div>What happens when your comfortable life is suddenly denied you? <br><br></span><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">When the Chanel make up’s dried up, the designer gear’s been flogged on eBay and the Persian rug has been well and truly pulled out from under you? <br><br>Meet Francesca Milton-Harris as she realises that one ‘little mistake’ is going to change her life in ways she could never have imagined. <br><br>The All or Nothing Girl … <br>because sometimes you have to lose it all to see how much more you can gain. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I have read and loved every one of Amanda's books and think this is her best one yet. This book is one girl experiencing two massive learning journies from start to finish. A new mom learning how to love her baby and a spoilt little rich girl learning to live in the real world when she's down and out. Meet Fran! </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The character of Tracey is amazing. Such a great person who is good through and through and once Fran realises that, they form a great friendship that no-one will come between. Really would love Tracey to be my best mate! </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">There were lots of laughs along the way which I always expect and am never disappointed with in an Amanda Egan book and lots of other emotions along the way. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Amanda's writing gets stronger in every book she writes. Always look forward to her new books as they are so enjoyable and so very entertaining. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">A brilliant book, highly recommended. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">You can buy the book which is available today here: </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Nothing-Girl-Amanda-Egan-ebook/dp/B00LAGX6GI">http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Nothing-Girl-Amanda-Egan-ebook/dp/B00LAGX6GI</a></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfIvqqkJeEUEoT_PNs6rbc2s4SwVZ1sKkypywYcf8MEgXVaDgUwTbedhugU5PXP_sd7HKjSnvVuOyLVJJja7FX_7dz0sX-OF8GazG6xjfgoPdPBPnY9nIgyfU6ISe7PqzXHF6s4Wrz8eU/s1600/Amanda.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="text-align: start; text-decoration: none; clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><font color="#000000"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfIvqqkJeEUEoT_PNs6rbc2s4SwVZ1sKkypywYcf8MEgXVaDgUwTbedhugU5PXP_sd7HKjSnvVuOyLVJJja7FX_7dz0sX-OF8GazG6xjfgoPdPBPnY9nIgyfU6ISe7PqzXHF6s4Wrz8eU/s200/Amanda.jpg" width="200" style="border: 1px solid rgb(203, 203, 203); position: relative; padding: 8px; -webkit-box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; border-top-left-radius: 0px; border-top-right-radius: 0px; border-bottom-right-radius: 0px; border-bottom-left-radius: 0px;"></span></font></a></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Amanda Egan was born and bred in London, and trained professionally as an actress. After many years of procrastination, she has turned her hand to writing Chick/Mummy-lit. She focused more on her writing after her son developed school phobia when he was 11 and she had to hang around his school in the background while he regained his confidence. In her spare time, she loves to read anything from Maeve Binchy, Jill Mansell, and Penny Vincenzi to Noel Coward, Dostoevsky and Zola. She also love crafts and entertaining, particularly hosting themed dinner parties. <br><br>You can <a href="https://twitter.com/#!/Mummy_Misfit" style="text-decoration: none;">follow Amanda on Twitter </a><br>You can <a href="http://www.facebook.com/Diary-of-a-Mummy-Misfit" style="text-decoration: none;">like her on Facebook</a></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div>Kim The Book Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06498912722314773900noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6923226901671476431.post-20751616924142450762014-06-26T06:56:00.001+01:002014-06-26T06:56:33.479+01:00What is #sunathon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxMhOMiXuI8oxEvImnDYCkP5nd1j8_F4B-HCJAalF9cVj9lOMLdI3rUWW1jsNpqyXSv7iXuhLKzOHNLAril2v49ePtRcKIAE3-AeLor2gdw7a035v8gtAzQ0vGF4ZViEHi9sLxLo8ET5A/s1600/Sunathon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxMhOMiXuI8oxEvImnDYCkP5nd1j8_F4B-HCJAalF9cVj9lOMLdI3rUWW1jsNpqyXSv7iXuhLKzOHNLAril2v49ePtRcKIAE3-AeLor2gdw7a035v8gtAzQ0vGF4ZViEHi9sLxLo8ET5A/s1600/Sunathon.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">From the 21st to the 27th July, book bloggers from all around the world will be taking part in #sunathon. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What is #sunathon? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Created by Emma Louise (@EmmaIsWriting), for that particular week in the gorgeous sun (or rain in you’re in the UK), we’re going to read. It doesn’t matter how much you read, as long as you make time for reading. There are a lot of people around the world who are blind to the magical world books and it’s a shame. More of us should read. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Emma Louise has decided to make it a full week: Monday-Sunday because a lot of book bloggers have full time jobs and they squeeze reading in between. She has made it longer just for them. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Use #sunathon to follow book bloggers around the world talking about it. It doesn’t matter whether you’re in the UK, or America, or Malaysia (waves to Kev) or Germany – it’s about us all coming together to read. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Let's help Emma Louise's fabulous project massive. Let's make sure we follow each other, and cheer one another on. Who knows maybe next year, we’ll be back? You can tweet along your book journey and at the end of it all, blog about what you read and what you’re going to read next. If you are not already involved, please email <a href="mailto:EmmaIsWriting@outlook.com">EmmaIsWriting@outlook.com</a> to take part.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Let's do this! </span><br />
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Kim The Book Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06498912722314773900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6923226901671476431.post-47599876902039499132014-06-25T06:53:00.000+01:002014-06-25T06:53:02.269+01:00Interview with Talli Roland<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ehKh-8FRfcOmxTwLX8eLAteiPmhk_a7se4Gfquat-2dMVAiDgaJJPGxalac59zQuE3QWb5xzaMW0jemdJa2YBYT7BvvmPRBwfWRbNpmVC55zjNdZPaBXfWH_-TMc68kayevhHI26B_I/s1600/Talli.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ehKh-8FRfcOmxTwLX8eLAteiPmhk_a7se4Gfquat-2dMVAiDgaJJPGxalac59zQuE3QWb5xzaMW0jemdJa2YBYT7BvvmPRBwfWRbNpmVC55zjNdZPaBXfWH_-TMc68kayevhHI26B_I/s1600/Talli.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So pleased that fabulous author of the recently released No-Kids Club Talli Roland has joined me on the blog today and let me interrogate, sorry, interview her! I read and reviewed the No-Kids Club and that review can be </span><a href="http://kimthebookworm.blogspot.co.uk/2014/06/review-no-kids-club-by-talli-roland.html"><strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">found here</span></strong></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hope you enjoy our chat!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: purple;"><strong>When did you write your first book and what inspired you to write?</strong></span> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wrote my first book when I was thirteen, and it was dire. Called GLINT OFF THE GOLD, it followed the journey of a handicapped diver who was striving for the Olympics. I sent it off to numerous publishers and even received a few letters back with editorial suggestions. At the time, I didn’t understand how rare that was, and I felt a little miffed that anyone dared advise me on my book. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’ve always loved writing. There’s something magical about creating a world from your mind and seeing characters spill out onto the page. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><span style="color: purple;">How would you describe your writing to someone who has never read your books?</span></strong> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’d say I write bittersweet and witty contemporary women’s fiction, with strong female protagonists. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><span style="color: purple;">Can you tell us about the inspiration behind The No-Kids Club?</span></strong> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The differing and sometimes judgmental attitudes towards women who don’t have children and those who do inspired me to write The No-Kids Club. Having been on both sides of the chasm, I do wish there was more understanding between the two camps. Often, women with kids are seen as succumbing to societal pressure, while those without are labelled selfish . . . vastly unfair and hurtful if someone can’t have children. While my infant son napped, I detailed the journeys of three women, each of whom didn’t have kids for their own reasons. While the novel is obviously about children, it’s also about acceptance and making the choice that is right for you and your relationship. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLaocl9O2jh0bEeXRyAb8-VRtSGoO-ZXHeCL_8iKXjipNuX0n0ju7hWqxPGy-Lv5oj7oHf7N2ZdDcBVr_683cUfGBE2zvIWz6aYfja8S2OWSNxnldoLSyQl67H5guxrznNGVHzTVk20Jw/s1600/The-No-Kids-Club-by-Talli-Roland.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLaocl9O2jh0bEeXRyAb8-VRtSGoO-ZXHeCL_8iKXjipNuX0n0ju7hWqxPGy-Lv5oj7oHf7N2ZdDcBVr_683cUfGBE2zvIWz6aYfja8S2OWSNxnldoLSyQl67H5guxrznNGVHzTVk20Jw/s1600/The-No-Kids-Club-by-Talli-Roland.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: purple;"><strong>Before you had your son, would you have joined a club such as this?</strong></span> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh, definitely! Approaching my late thirties, I was oblivious to any ticking clock or aging eggs, and the most maternal instinct I ever experienced was relief when a baby next to me stopped crying. I wasn’t against children per se, but I had no desire to listen to endless banter about breastfeeding and potty training. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: purple;"><strong>Are you the sort of parent whose child fits in with you so life hasn’t changed much, or is your life is completely different?</strong></span> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The first part of your question made me laugh! As a writer working from home, it was inevitable that the arrival of my son would change my life dramatically. No longer do I have vast stretches of quiet time, and my office is now his nursery. I’m very lucky that, as challenging as it is, I’ve been able to spend a lot of time watching him grow and develop while still keeping my writing career on track. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><span style="color: purple;">What advice would you give to a pregnant mum?</span></strong> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Read The Baby Whisperer! Seriously, as a clueless mum-to-be, that book helped me so much. Of course you need to tailor things to your own baby’s needs and personality, but having that baseline knowledge was great. </span><br />
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<strong><span style="color: purple; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Is there anything you wish you’d have been told that you weren’t when you were pregnant? </span></strong><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wish someone had told me that the first few weeks are incredibly tiring and such a huge adjustment, and that it’s okay if you’re not feeling up to it sometimes. Just doing your best and getting through the day is all right! I put a lot of pressure on myself to get into the groove quickly but babies do not always respond to our own schedules. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><span style="color: purple;">How do you now fit in your writing around having a young child?</span></strong> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When my baby was young, I’d write while he napped. Now that he’s older and sleeping less, I do most of my work when he’s in nursery three mornings a week, and when he’s not, I get up at five in the morning. My brain doesn’t function past 4 p.m., so I’m useless at night! </span><br />
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<span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: purple;"><strong>What’s next for Talli Roland?</strong></span> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’m now working on my next novel, THE EVERYTHING DREAM, about a woman who must choose between supporting her family or following her passion. I’m on the fourth draft now, and it’s getting there! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Can't wait to read it Talli and thanks so much for joining me today! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Talli <span style="text-decoration: underline;"><a dataquery="#Link1yks" href="http://talliroland.blogspot.com/" style="cursor: pointer;" target="_blank"><strong><span style="color: #cb29d4;">blogs regularly</span></strong></a></span> on random topics and you can find out when wine o'clock strikes (among other things!) by<span style="text-decoration: underline;"><a dataquery="#Link1fow" href="http://www.twitter.com/talliroland" style="cursor: pointer;" target="_blank"><span style="color: #cb29d4;"> </span><strong><span style="color: #cb29d4;">following her on Twitter</span></strong></a></span>. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Talli encourages her readers to <span style="text-decoration: underline;"><a dataquery="#Linkqlb" href="mailto:talli@talliroland.com?subject=Hello!" style="cursor: pointer;" target="_blank"><span style="color: #cb29d4;">get in touch</span></a></span> at any time!</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You can buy "The No-Kids Club" from </span></span><a href="http://talliroland.us2.list-manage.com/track/click?u=4e45af76bb0ebca52da4339f8&id=e6a4afbc37&e=bbdbcadcaa" style="color: #336699; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Amazon.co.uk here</span></strong></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, or from </span></span><a href="http://talliroland.us2.list-manage.com/track/click?u=4e45af76bb0ebca52da4339f8&id=f93ecd69ea&e=bbdbcadcaa" style="color: #336699; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Amazon.com here</span></strong></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. </span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You can also </span></span><a href="http://talliroland.us2.list-manage1.com/track/click?u=4e45af76bb0ebca52da4339f8&id=e2b93dbc89&e=bbdbcadcaa" style="color: #336699; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">add it to your Goodreads</span></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">.</span></span></div>
Kim The Book Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06498912722314773900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6923226901671476431.post-29149640826108463902014-06-22T23:28:00.001+01:002014-06-24T06:52:02.011+01:00One Hundred Proposals by Holly Martin - Chapter 2<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5KZXIqonz2XHd0hV7J92QNbzlfX5vR4A7alcTUVlbeJAfWX3lEa4w2HdRgAT1MO_KR4EU1ATNBJ54aP28uZGgLRksoRhUUFNitSh9ZDUTWwMjh-Wp6OAGFevVPFGmsUJLYNX1Ux78r0c/s640/blogger-image-804621693.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5KZXIqonz2XHd0hV7J92QNbzlfX5vR4A7alcTUVlbeJAfWX3lEa4w2HdRgAT1MO_KR4EU1ATNBJ54aP28uZGgLRksoRhUUFNitSh9ZDUTWwMjh-Wp6OAGFevVPFGmsUJLYNX1Ux78r0c/s640/blogger-image-804621693.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div><div><span class="s3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">As promised yesterday, here's Chapter 2 of Holly Martin's fabulous One Hundred Proposals. Join me on the 30th for my review to see what I thought of it or if you can't wait, you can pre-order it at the link at the bottom of Chapter 2 - enjoy! </span></div><div><span class="s3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span class="s3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Chapter </span><span class="s3" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Two</span></div><div><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I woke the next day with a start, being quite simply torn from a dream about Jack</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">–</span><span class="s5"> a memory of playing with him on the beach as he tried to put wet seaweed down my back.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">As I became more conscious</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> the loss of losing him hit me all over again.</span><span class="s5"></span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I knew immediately that someone was in the room with me.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I was face down on my pillow and I leaned up and swept my curtain of tangled brown hair off my face.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Harry was sitting next to me on the bed, sipping his coffee and reading my very dog</span><span class="s5">-</span><span class="s5">eared copy of The Hobbit.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I scowled at him.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I wasn’t a morning person.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Do you not knock?’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">Harry’s attention didn’t even waver from the page he was reading.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘You gave me a key.’</span><span class="s5"></span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘I could have been naked.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">He put his book down and looked at me.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘All the more reason for me not to knock.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I blushed and climbed off the bed.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">Most mornings I woke to this.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I must admit, it was a lovely way to wake up.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">One night, after these early morning visits had become more regular, I went to bed in my sexiest lingerie in the hope that the following morning he would come in and be so turned on that he might immediately ravish me.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">But not only did he not even bat an eyelid when he saw me in my black, satin nightie, he was more excited about his McDonalds breakfast and the free hash brown he had been given by the girl flirting with him behind the counter than what I had to offer.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">To add insult to injury, as I tried to arrange myself subtly into a sexy pose on the bed next to him as he chomped through his Bacon and Egg McMuffin, I had simply slithered off the bed into a crumpled heap on the floor.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Nowadays it seemed much easier and more comfortable to sleep in my regular pyjamas.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">Harry handed me a coffee fresh from the café round the corner.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I took a sip</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">–</span><span class="s5"> it was made exactly how I liked it</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> with three sugars and a dash of hazelnut syrup.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">As I went to take another sip</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> I realised that a small heart had been drawn in the froth on the top.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I smiled and hovered near his side, peering round him to the brown paper bag I could see tucked by his hip.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">He was busy reading so I coughed loudly to gain his attention.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">When he glanced up</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> I looked deliberately at the bag.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘How do you know this is for you?’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Because you always bring me nice things from the café.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">What is it this morning, an apricot Danish, ooh a walnut plait or…’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">He whisked it out the bag and showed it to me</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> and the words dried in my throat.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Iced into the top of my favourite cinnamon swirl w</span><span class="s5">ere</span><span class="s5"> the words ‘Marry </span><span class="s5">M</span><span class="s5">e.’</span><span class="s5"></span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I had almost forgotten about this silly hundred proposals thing.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I’d hoped he’d forgotten as well.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">But now it looked like he really did mean to torture me.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">One hundred days.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">One hundred different ways to break my heart.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I looked at him and he was watching me hopefully.</span><span class="s5"></span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘It’s certainly unique.’ I took the bun from him, and picked a currant out of it, averting my gaze from his. I forced my voice to sound normal before I spoke again. ‘If I bite into this am I at risk of swallowing a diamond ring?’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">He shook his head.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘No ring.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">You said a ring was clichéd.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Besides</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> why propose with diamonds when you can propose with cinnamon and coffee</span><span class="s5">?</span><span class="s5">’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘You should take a picture of it before I eat it.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Put it on the blog.’</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I had a huge lump in my throat.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Good idea.’ He whipped out his phone, pressed a few buttons and pointed it in my direction.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I held it out for him to get a good angle and realised my hands were shaking.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Harry realised it too.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">To my shame, tears swam in my eyes.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">Harry was off the bed in a second.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘What’s wrong, what’s happened?’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Nothing, I’m fine.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Just tired.’ I stepped away from him but he pulled me back, holding me tight and squashing the bun between us.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I breathed him in, his wonderful earthy smell as he started to stroke my back</span><span class="s5">.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Did something happen with Tiny Tim?’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I couldn’t keep up with the lie any longer and it had achieved nothing anyway.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘We broke up,’ I said into his chest, hoping that would explain why I was soaking his shirt with my tears.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Oh honey, I’m sorry.’ His hand moved to my hair and my breath caught in my throat.</span><span class="s5"></span><span class="s5">‘Had you be</span><span class="s5">en</span><span class="s5"> seeing him long?’</span><span class="s5"></span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">Oh what a tangled web we weave.</span><span class="s5"></span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘A few weeks. It wasn’t serious, but I really liked him. But obviously I liked him more than he liked me.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Well then the man’s an idiot.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Who wouldn’t love a girl in a cow print onesie?’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I giggled.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">He tilted my face up to look at him.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Right</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> enough tears.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Any man who makes you cry is not worth it.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">If only he knew.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Anyway, I have a day out planned for you today, so stop moping around and get yourself showered and dressed.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">He released me and we both looked at the squashed bun.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Although it looked a bit worse for wear, the words ‘Marry Me’ were still very obvious on the top. Harry took a photo and I quickly ate it so I wouldn’t have to stare at the empty words any longer.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">It tasted good, despite</span><span class="s5"> the fact</span><span class="s5"> that with every mouthful my heart broke a little bit more.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘So, as proposals go, is this what you imagined for yourself?’ Harry asked, when it was gone.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Undoubtedly.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">The perfect proposal.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">So you don’t have to bother with the other ninety</span><span class="s5">-</span><span class="s5">eight different ways now.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Write on the blog that you bought me a cinnamon swirl and I caved.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I’m a cheap date, easily pleased.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">Harry pulled a face.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘It was a bit cheap and naff</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> wasn’t it?</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Ok, for my next one it will be something huge.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Really, the cinnamon swirl was cute</span><span class="s5">…</span><span class="s5"> and don’t underestimate the value of cute.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">But Harry was already walking away into the office, scrolling through his phone as he went.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Harry, are you listening?</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Nothing says </span><span class="s5">‘</span><span class="s5">I love you</span><span class="s5">’</span><span class="s5"> like a personalised cinnamon swirl.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Get in the shower</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> woman, I need to make some calls.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I sighed.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I had to sway him from this path.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Ninety</span><span class="s5">-</span><span class="s5">eight heart-breaking days stretched ahead of me like an endless desert, with no respite from the sun.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I got in the shower and stuck my head under the stream.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">No</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> I could do this.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Proposals were my entire waking life.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">My dreams were plagued by them too. Something like this could only be good for business. I just had to become immune to the words.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">They were empty and meaningless.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">And now I knew that I was to expect it every day, I could prepare myself for it, pretend in my head the words meant something else.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I got dressed quickly and walked into the office.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Hey.’ Harry was busy typing. ‘Our blog has nineteen followers already.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Our </span><span class="s5">P</span><span class="s5">roposer’s </span><span class="s5">B</span><span class="s5">log? This hundred proposals malarkey</span><span class="s5">?</span><span class="s5">’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Malarkey? I’m offended.’ He smiled up at me briefly before returning his attention to the screen.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘Yes, I guess they want to see what I come up with next.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I leaned over him to see what he had written and caught a whiff of his wonderful clean earthy smell.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">There was the close</span><span class="s5">-</span><span class="s5">up picture of my squashed bun, and another picture I hadn’t realised he had taken</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">–</span><span class="s5"> of me eating it, my hair a full bird’s nest, my face red and blotchy from the tears, dressed in my rather unflattering cow print onesie. Great!</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Under the picture was Harry’s blog.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s7" style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Proposer’s Blog</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">Day 2: The Cinnamon Swirl Proposal.</span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;"> </span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">Location: Suzie’s bedroom (I assure you, nothing saucy going on here).</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Is the way to a woman’s heart through her stomach?</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">Our Suzie McKenzie has a very sweet tooth and so I thought to charm her with a sweet proposal of her own.</span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;"> </span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">Nadia’s Bakery, St Patrick’s Road makes the best Cinnamon Swirls in the world and it’s one of Suzie’s all-time favourite things to eat for breakfast. So when I explained the situation to the lovely Nadia this morning she was more than happy to provide me with a personalised one along with a heart</span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">-</span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">topped latte.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">So what was Suzie’s reaction?</span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;"> </span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">She seemed a bit blasé about it actually.</span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;"> </span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">Wolfed it down</span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">and</span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;"> barely register</span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">ed</span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;"> the words.</span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;"></span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">That wasn’t true of course, but it was better he wrote that than writing that I burst into tears.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">I always thought those proposers that pop the question with a ring at the bottom of the champagne glass were silly</span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;"> </span><span class="s5">–</span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;"> who wants to fish the diamond ring out of the toilet a few days later</span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">? </span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">Though now Suzie’s eaten my proposal</span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">,</span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;"> there’s nothing left of it apart from the icing on her lips.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I immediately checked my lips and I saw Harry smirk out of the corner of my eye.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">Next time, I will do something grand.</span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;"> </span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">Something she can’t possibly miss.</span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;"> </span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">Plus</span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">,</span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;"> who would really say yes over a 59p Cinnamon Swirl</span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;">?</span><span class="s8" style="font-style: italic;"></span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘That makes me sound shallow,’ I said, squeezing past him to log on to my own computer.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Not shallow, just greedy.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">And don’t bother logging on, we’re going out.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘I can’t, it’s our busiest time of the year, you know that. Three days before Valentine’s Day, all those last minute Larrys will be phoning us up for support.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘I’ve already diverted the calls to your mobile and you can still pick up your emails, besides today is completely work orientated</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">–</span><span class="s5"> we’re sourcing new locations, so stop making excuses and get your boots on.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">When I hesitated, he grabbed my hand and pulled me out the office.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I laughed.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘Where are we going?’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘First stop, we’re going to buy you some decent pyjamas, so the next boyfriend won’t be scared off by seeing you in that onesie.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I stopped dead and when he turned to look at me, his eyes were kind.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Jack bought it for me,’ I said, quietly.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘I know.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘I’m not getting rid of it.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘I’m not saying throw it out. But I know Jack, he had a wicked sense of humour and you know as well as I do that he bought it for you as a joke because you used to take the piss out of onesies and people that wore them.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">You know that he never intended for you to wear it at all let alone every day since his death.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">If you want to keep it, keep it.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">All I’m talking about is options.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Something else you could wear that would show off that fabulous figure of yours.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I opened my mouth to protest as the last words he said slammed into my brain.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Fabulous figure?</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">He moved his hands to my shoulders and when he spoke his voice was soft.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘I know you’re trying to keep your brother alive, keep him close, but he would be cringing if he could see you wearing that thing and you know that.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Keep him close with your memories of him, not by compromising who you are.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I blinked.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">That was very profound for half nine on a Thursday morning.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘I’m just saying, the Suzie McKenzie I know and love wouldn’t be caught dead in something like that.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘I think it’s funny.’ I knew I sounded like a petulant child.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Yes, for about five minutes after you opened your present</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">–</span><span class="s5"> it’s not quite so funny eight months later.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">He had a point.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I’d washed it so many times that the white patches were now grey and the udders were looking decidedly limp.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘And while we’re on the subject.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">You can stop wearing black as well.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">We’re not in the Victorian times any</span><span class="s5">m</span><span class="s5">ore.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">He pulled me into the bedroom and I followed, still in shock over his brutal honesty.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">He opened my wardrobe and pulled out my favourite scarlet jumper dress. ‘You can wear this today with those purple leggings.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">They would clash horribly.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I smiled</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘And you can wear them with those Barbie pink boots you love so much and…’ He rooted around in one of my drawers, finally found what he had been looking for, pulled it out and thrust it into my face. ‘This.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">You’ll wear this.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘But –’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘No buts.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Get changed.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">You have five minutes.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I stared after his retreating back and then down at the black shirt and black trousers I had put on out of habit.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">In the months after Jack’s death my taste in bright and garish clothes had seemed disrespectful somehow.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Was one month too soon to return back to my colourful spots, stripes and swirls</span><span class="s5">? </span><span class="s5">Was two months?</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">But now it had been eight months and I had seemingly been wearing black ever since.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">My bright clothes even seemed to have a thin layer of dust on them as they hung forgotten in my wardrobe.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Harry had a point. Again.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I came downstairs a few minutes later, dressed in my purple leggings, scarlet jumper, pink boots and my red and gold spotted sequinned beret that I adored and Jack hated because he said I looked like a toadstool.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I felt lighter already.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">Harry grinned when he saw me.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘You look beautiful.’ He offered me his arm. ‘Now let’s go.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I leaned into him and walked out into the early morning sunshine.</span></p><p class="s10" style="text-align: start; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"><span class="s9" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">*</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘No way.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I’m not doing that,’ I said, staring at the scene before me in horror.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘There’s nothing romantic about that.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Who says proposals have to be romantic</span><span class="s5">?</span><span class="s5">’ Harry said as he bent down to forcefully remove my boots.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘It’s the rules.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Flowers, fireworks, chocolates.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">A stuffed teddy with the words emblazoned across a red heart.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Not this.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Never this.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘I disagree.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘You would,’ I said as Harry pushed me gently but forcibly forwards in the queue.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘I think proposals can be weird, funny or in the case of this little adventure, adrenaline filled.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I was next.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘If I die –’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘I’ll wear a cow print onesie to your funeral. Now get up there.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">My phone rang in my pocket.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Oh I have to get that, shame I’ll miss my turn.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">But to my annoyance, Harry had already wrestled my phone from my pocket and had answered it.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">He was more than capable of dealing with our customers and he knew I knew that.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Are you going or what</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> love?’ asked a big gruff man whose face looked like it had been punched several times.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">His nose was bent in two places and he had a huge scar across his forehead.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Had he sustained these injuries doing this? I shrunk back but Harry pushed me forward.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Yes she is</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> and send her as high as you can.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The man nodded, somewhat evilly I thought.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I climbed the steps to my doom and they attached thin rubber cables to my harness.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I kept my eyes on Harry as the man bounced behind me for a few seconds, causing me to bounce as well. A moment later I was propelled some ten feet into the air, a scream tearing from my throat.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I fell back to the earth but no sooner had I touched the ground</span><span class="s5"> than I</span><span class="s5"> was sent back into the air again, this time even higher than the last.</span><span class="s5"></span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">We had been walking along the Thames when the sounds of screams had attracted us.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">As we rounded the corner</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> we saw the bungee trampolines and watched with amusement as we saw people screaming</span><span class="s5">, being</span><span class="s5"> bounced high</span><span class="s5">er and higher</span><span class="s5"> in the air.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">My amusement had quickly turned to horror when I realised Harry had paid for me to have a go,</span><span class="s5"> and</span><span class="s5"> that we had come here deliberately for this reason.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I screamed again as I flailed in the air, kicking my legs helplessly in the hope that it would slow my descent.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Each time I thought I was going to crash into the ground, I came to a slow stop, bounced gracefully off the trampoline and was propelled back into the air again.</span><span class="s5"></span><span class="s5">As I was thrust into the air for the fifth time</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> a bubble of laughter escaped my throat.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">It was a rush</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">–</span><span class="s5"> a terrifying, brilliant rush.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">The man bounced with me, sending me higher</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> and I roared with joy.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">All too soon the experience was over</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> and the man slowed me down and stopped me.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">He unhooked me and I quickly clambered down the steps and ran straight into Harry’s arms, still laughing uncontrollably.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Finally my laughter subsided.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Thank you.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘You’re very welcome,’ he said, into my forehead. ‘You see, at this point, while your heart is still pounding furiously and with the grin plastered on your face, I would propose.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘And I would say yes.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I felt him smile into my hair.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘So one we can definitely add to our repertoire?’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Yes</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> I take it all back.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I love it.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘They’re not here all the time, but the guy is going to give me his card as they go all round the UK</span><span class="s5">.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">W</span><span class="s5">e can phone them up if need be and find out where they are.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Excellent, it’s great to get contacts like this.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Are you ready for the next part of our day?’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I pulled back</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> intrigued.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘There’s more?’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Yes.’ He chivalrously picked up the bag containing the pyjamas he had bought me earlier.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Very simple, very elegant satin pyjamas.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I’d liked the black but Harry put his foot down and we’d eventually agreed on a dusty rose.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Was the phone call anything good?’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘I’ve emailed over to him our basic package.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I sighed.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘That’s the fourth today.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Hey</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> the basic package is a good little money earner.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">You know</span><span class="s5"> –</span><span class="s5"> on average</span><span class="s5"> –</span><span class="s5"> half the customers that buy the twenty pound package from us, come back and spend ten times that on a big extravagant proposal.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘I know, but at this time of year I kind of expect to get more big proposals rather than so many basic packages.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">Harry was right, we earned quite a bit from our basic package.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">For twenty pounds, we sent our customers a brochure of our top fifty proposals.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Ideas ranging from the romantic to the ridiculous, top class restaurants to tiny little tucked away cafés strewn with fairy lights.</span><span class="s5"></span><span class="s5">We included days out, fun experiences and romantic getaways.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">We also included vouchers for discounts and special offers at these hotels and restaurants and if our customers went there, we also got ten percent of their final bill from the companies for introducing our customers to them in the first place.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">It also gave brief details of more elaborate proposals, something only we could organise, with the promise of a refund of the twenty pounds if they were to book one of the grander proposals with us.</span><span class="s5"></span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Romance isn’t always about big gestures though,’ Harry said.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘Sometimes it’s the words the man finds or the effort that he has gone to.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">It doesn’t have to be something expensive.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘I know that, the smaller gestures are sometimes the best, a message written in the sand on a favourite beach or a personalised cinnamon swirl.’ I nudged him as we walked along the road and he smiled.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘But from a business point of view I’m not sure people paying us twenty pounds to send them to propose elsewhere is the best idea.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">They could spend a hundred pounds or more at these posh places.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">That’s a hundred pounds they could have spent with us.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">Harry switched sides with me and I wondered why as he put himself between me and two men who were arguing, placing his hand on the small of my back as he nudged me round them.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I felt embarrassed by the goose</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">bumps that suddenly exploded over my body at his touch.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">Harry continued on as if he hadn’t noticed my heart leap out of my chest.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘Most people have in their mind what kind of proposal they want to do before they contact us.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">For most of them it would involve some kind of romantic meal, so they’re not likely to spend their money with us anyway.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">By providing them with a list of romantic places to eat</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> not only do we get the twenty pounds but also any kickbacks from the restaurants too.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">We’ve probably earned more money from the basic package than we have from the big proposals </span><span class="s5">– </span><span class="s5">so I wouldn’t knock the smaller gestures if I were you.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Come on, through here.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">Harry ducked into a tiny alleyway that wound round the corner out of sight.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">He knew London like the back of his hand and very rarely went on the underground.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">There was always so much more to see when on foot.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I followed him, his hulking frame almost filling the alley wall to wall.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">The walls were covered in graffiti and chewing gum, but some of the pictures sprayed on the bricks were very skilful.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">As we came to an old boarded</span><span class="s5">-</span><span class="s5">up window, he stopped and as I drew near he pulled me to his side, with his hand at my waist, sending delicious shivers down my spine.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘There’s a place called Bubblegum Alley in California</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> and</span><span class="s5"> a</span><span class="s5"> Chewing Gum Wall in Seattle</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> where millions of pieces of gum have been stuck on the walls.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">It’s so bright and colourful that what started as something gross has now been declared </span><span class="s5">an </span><span class="s5">official tourist attraction.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">People travel from miles around to see it and to add their own gum to it.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Some have even created little works of art amongst the thousands of globules.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">He stood back a bit and pointed to the wall.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">There in a heart made from pink chewing gum were the words ‘Annie, marry me,’ also made from chewing gum.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Love can be found in the most unlikely of places, you just have to look for it.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">He stared down at me and for a moment I wasn’t sure if he was talking about him, </span><span class="s5">or</span><span class="s5">about me and him.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘It doesn’t need to be about romance, just little heartfelt gestures.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I smiled.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘I wonder if she said yes.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">Harry pointed to the green letters written in globules of chewing gum underneath the heart.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">In big proud letters, the word ‘Yes’, stood out.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘I like it.’ I grabbed my phone from my pocket and took a few shots.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I had to put this on the website.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘I knew you would.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘You see, I don’t need big gestures, so whatever you have planned for our next proposal, it doesn’t need to be a big yacht or a trip to the moon.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">He walked away, heading towards the sunlight that was piercing our gloom.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘I’ll cancel the space rocket then.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Harry, I’m serious.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Don’t waste your money on me.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">He ignored me as we stepped out into the sunlight.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">He was incredibly generous with his money and he had a lot of it.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">He didn’t get a very good salary from me but he didn’t really need it.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Years before, whilst travelling around America, he’d had the foresight to invest in a tiny little up</span><span class="s5">-</span><span class="s5">and</span><span class="s5">-</span><span class="s5">coming </span><span class="s5">online social media site called Connected</span><span class="s5">.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">He’d given a thousand dollars at the time, money he had won at </span><span class="s5">a casino, and years later, when</span><span class="s5"> Connected had been the biggest social media site in America and probably the world</span><span class="s11">,</span><span class="s5"> he had sold his shares for a huge sum.</span><span class="s5"> He’d never told me </span><span class="s5">how much he got from that little endeavour.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">But it was enough that he could afford the huge house on the other side of the green from me, bought when the property prices had plummeted. And he always seemed to have enough money for little gifts and meals out.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Spending money on you is never a waste. And we’re running late now so we’re going to have to run.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">He grabbed my hand and started jogging through the streets, winding his way expertly through the other people.</span><span class="s5"></span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘We could catch the tube,’ I whined, as I tried to keep up with his long</span><span class="s5">-</span><span class="s5">legged pace.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Running’s much more fun,’ Harry said, without breaking his stride.</span></p><p class="s10" style="text-align: start; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"><span class="s9" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">*</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">The Glade at Sketch was like nothing I’d ever seen before.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">With its white bricked front</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5">Sketch looked like a simple townhouse</span><span class="s5"> –</span><span class="s5"> and we’d actually walked past the place before we’d </span><span class="s5">realised it was there.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">But down the darkened staircase and to the left</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> a tranquil wooded glade had been transported from some fairy tale forest to this seemingly unassuming restaurant in central London.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Trees covered every wall and surface, the leaves of which were painted in every shade of green and gold imaginable.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">A huge chandelier dominated the ceiling, casting delicate lights over every surface from it</span><span class="s5">s</span><span class="s5"> tangle of branches.</span><span class="s5"> Tiny gold</span><span class="s5">fireflies danced around the walls and floor.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Mirrored panels near the roof moved slowly</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5">catching the light from the huge sun roof above us and sending its rays across the room as if the sun was moving through the trees.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Wicker chairs, tables and sofas with huge green embroidered cushions were placed casually throughout the room as if they were garden furniture and we were all just simply sitting out in the garden somewhere, enjoying the sun.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Harry Forbes, we have a reservation for afternoon tea.’ Harry said to the beautiful waitress </span><span class="s5">who</span><span class="s5"> looked like a woodland nymph with the plaits and twists in her hair</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> and</span><span class="s5"> her</span><span class="s5">floaty dress.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">The waitress showed us to our table and we quickly placed an order for tea. Breakfast tea for me, something that sounded like a rare tropical disease for Harry.</span><span class="s5"></span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Harry, this place is beautiful.’ I couldn’t stop looking around</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> until my eyes met with his and I realised he’d been watching me.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘Thank you for today.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘My pleasure.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I just wanted you to have some fun.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">You’ve been so down lately.’ He paused, awkwardly, while he rearranged the cups on the table.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘The food here is amazing.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I reached across and squeezed his hand.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘Thank you.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">The afternoon tea arrived just as Harry was poised to say something else.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I reluctantly let him go so there was room for our cake stand on the table.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">Harry was right, the food looked and tasted amazing.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">The sandwiches were all topped with extras like quail eggs and caviar, bringing a simple egg mayonnaise sandwich alive with an assault of different flavours.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">There was an array of cakes, all tiny, mouth-watering bites of pure pleasure, some kind of trifle and of course delicious fresh fruit scones.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘So tell me,’ Harry said around a mouthful of something chocolaty, ‘Tiny Tim, did you and he…?’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Oh God, Tiny Tim was going to come back and haunt me forever.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I picked up some kind of pink meringue that literally dissolved as soon as it touched my tongue.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I licked my lips as I played for time.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Did we what?’ I smirked as Harry shifted uncomfortably, waving his hands around in what I presumed was some kind of representation of the act. The man had no problem discussing his sordid sex life but he was still awkward when discussing mine.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I wanted to play him at his own game.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘He liked to dress up,’ I said as I popped some kind of fruit tart in my mouth.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">The fruit was crystalized and was like an explosion on my tongue.</span><span class="s5"></span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">Harry’s eyes widened.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘Like air hostess, police woman, cheerleader, that kind of thing?’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I shook my head. ‘Lots of different things really.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">One of my favourites was dressing up as a unicorn and he was a lion. He liked to take me from behind and he would roar when he came.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">Harry stared at me, his face unblinking.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I picked up a tiny coffee éclair and caught the eye of a tiny little old lady sitting at the next table, her fruit tart poised halfway to her mouth. I blushed</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> realising she had heard every word.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">Still</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> there was no going back now.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘He liked to dress up as one of the flower pot men, Bill normally, I’m not sure why.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I was always the flower, Weed.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Then Bill would come at me with his big hose.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">The old lady leaned over to me.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘Dear, do you have the name of the shop where you bought these costumes?’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘I don’t I’m afraid, Tim always brought them with him.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I will miss his big hose.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Harry was still staring at me. ‘I didn’t realise you were into all that weird stuff.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I licked the icing off the top of the éclair and popped it in my mouth, trying desperately to suppress my laughter but it was to no avail.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I snorted so hard that a bubble of snot burst from my nose and I quickly had to wipe it away on my beautiful cotton serviette.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘You’re joking?’ Harry looked almost relieved.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Of course I am.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘So you guys… didn’t…’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘It’s none of your business.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Just because you like to talk about all your sexploits, doesn’t mean the rest of us do.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘That’s a </span><span class="s5">‘</span><span class="s5">no</span><span class="s5">’</span><span class="s5"> if ever I heard one.’ He smiled smugly.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I wasn’t going to let him get away with that.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘It’s a </span><span class="s5">‘</span><span class="s5">yes</span><span class="s5">’</span><span class="s5"> actually, but it was just regular sex.’ I wanted to expand on that, regular sex sounded so boring.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘Well as regular as three hour sex marathons can be.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">He had the stamina of a horse.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">We’d do it all over the flat.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">On the dining table, up against a wall, in the shower, in the kitchen, on top of the washing machine, backwards, forwards, sideways, doggy style.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The old lady choked on her fruit scone.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Sideways?’ asked Harry.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Yes.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">You should try it, it’s great fun.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Can you pass the sugar?’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I stared down at my tea.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Sideways, how exactly would that work?</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Tell me about your plans for the summer.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">You said you were thinking about going to New Zealand.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">Harry recovered himself well.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘The land of the hobbits.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I would love to.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Maybe hire a camper van and drive from North to South.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">There’s so many things I want to do, but it’s more fun doing them with someone else.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Sexy Samantha not keen?’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘She’s definitely not the camper van sort.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">She’s more of the </span><span class="s5">‘</span><span class="s5">five star hotel with daily spa treatments</span><span class="s5">’</span><span class="s5"> kind of girl. We should go.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘I would love that, I want to see the world, every tiny little pocket of it, but no girlfriend of yours is going to be happy about you taking another woman off on holiday.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Sleeping together in the back of the camper van.’ I blushed as Harry’s eyebrows shot up.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘I meant actually sleeping</span><span class="s5"> –</span><span class="s5"> not having sex.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The old lady leaned in closer again, ready to catch the next instalment in my sex life.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘I should hope not,’ Harry said, his tongue licking seductively up the side of his éclair.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘I don’t have a lion costume.’</span></span></p><p class="s10" style="text-align: start; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"><span class="s9" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">*</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I sat back and watched the gold </span><span class="s5">fireflies chase each other up the walls.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I was so uncomfortably full, but everything was so hard to resist, that I’d had to eat it all.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">We’d had a lovely time, chatting all afternoon, but one of the main topics of conversation from the other guests was the toilets and how funny they were.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I had to check them out myself.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I excused myself from the table and</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> following the directions of the woodland nymph waitress, I walked through another restaurant to a very white room on the other side.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">The stairs leading up to the toilets were a brilliant opulent white</span><span class="s5"> –</span><span class="s5"> looking like they led to somewhere much grander than just some toilets.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I walked upstairs to a brightly lit room, the ceiling decorated with beautiful rainbow tiles</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> but as I reached the top I stopped in my tracks.</span><span class="s5"></span><span class="s5">Several pods sat in a white chamber at the top of the stairs, looking like white cocoons from an alien spaceship.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">They were about seven foot tall and tapered off like eggs at the top.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I looked around for the toilets but there was nothing else up here.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">On the other side of the room were several more pods.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">These pods were clearly the toilets and were obviously the reason for such amusement from the other guests.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I opened the door on one of them, expecting to hear some kind of space age whoosh and was slightly disappointed when I didn’t.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">Inside was the weirdest toilet I had ever seen.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">There was no seat at all.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I walked in and closed the door behind me.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">It was obviously some foreign kind of toilet where you stand.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">A long ceramic oval hung from the wall jutting out at the bottom to catch the waste.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I stared at it</span><span class="s5"> –</span><span class="s5"> how on earth was I supposed to pee in that?</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Backwards seemed the only safe option. With a bit of negotiating I pointed my bum in the right direction and leaned forward into a sort of half squat.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I quickly finished and after redressing I left the pod, dying to tell Harry about the very weird toilets.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">He was standing right outside and looked shocked to see me coming out of one of the pods.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘What?’ I said</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘These are the boys’ toilets.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I laughed.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘No they’re not, the waitress pointed me up these stairs.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Yes, the girls’ pods are over there.’ He pointed to the other side of the stairs where several pods were bathed in pink lights in comparison to the pods where I was that were bathed in blue.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">Harry peered over my shoulder and burst out laughing.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘Did the urinals not give you a clue?’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I looked back and gasped in horror.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I had just peed in a urinal.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Now he had pointed it out to me it was obvious.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">It wasn’t some weird foreign type toilet at all, just a bog standard urinal.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I felt my cheeks glow crimson.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘I’m intrigued.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">How exactly did you manage to pee in there?’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I quickly hurried to the sinks and washed my hands.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘I don’t want to talk about it.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I heard Harry go into one of the pods, his laughter so loud I could hear him from the outside.</span></p><p class="s6" style="margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px; text-indent: 18px; text-align: justify;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><a name="_GoBack"></a></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">To see the rest of the story </span><span class="s5">pre –order your copy of One Hundred Proposals now.</span><a href="http://amzn.to/1ouP9w0"><span class="s12">http://amzn.to/1ouP9w0</span></a></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p></div>Kim The Book Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06498912722314773900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6923226901671476431.post-21438876896607624202014-06-22T23:19:00.001+01:002014-06-23T07:25:59.740+01:00One Hundred Proposals by Holly Martin - Chapter 1<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLxCjGoo2V3d7Jm3iFtWh_l3UboNf2HrG-zV4W6Ee_pJmX5gHOEPRQy5NR3RUY0juo4BPcDBmKNWICqB7zf2G6mHki_QvDiyPI4Itk__9a6Hb0w-AvDZUZa-5ullfSi6a_hIJ2Ir1MoXg/s640/blogger-image--1183137012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLxCjGoo2V3d7Jm3iFtWh_l3UboNf2HrG-zV4W6Ee_pJmX5gHOEPRQy5NR3RUY0juo4BPcDBmKNWICqB7zf2G6mHki_QvDiyPI4Itk__9a6Hb0w-AvDZUZa-5ullfSi6a_hIJ2Ir1MoXg/s640/blogger-image--1183137012.jpg"></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Delighted today to be able to share Chapter 1 of Holly Martin's fabulous One Hundred Proposals. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 2. I'm taking part in Holly's Blog tour on 30th June with my review of the book. So grab yourself a coffee, sit back and enjoy Chapter 1. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Prologue</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Ok, you can open your eyes now,’ Harry said.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I blinked in the gloom of the cave.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Moonlight tumbled through the opening above us</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5">reflecting off the waterfall as it cascaded into the pool below.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">We had been in Australia for just a few days but I knew it would never cease to amaze me.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Dancing in the pockets of the cave walls were hundreds of fireflies, sparkling like fairy lights.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Nothing could have prepared me for what happened next.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">The fireflies started to gather together and slowly a shape was formed.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I frowned in confusion and then within seconds the words, ‘Suzie, Marry Me,’ stood proud against the cave walls, written by the fireflies.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I whirled round to face Harry in shock.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘How did you do that?’</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I looked back at the fireflies, not wanting to miss anything.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Would they perhaps move to form the lyrics of my favourite song?</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Were they super trained fireflies and in a minute they’d all whip out their mini cheerleader pom-poms and start some kind of dance where they would balance precariously on each other’s backs</span><span class="s5">?</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘It’s some kind of fruit juice, they love it.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I fumbled in my bag for my camera</span><span class="s5">.</span><span class="s5"> ‘We have to get a picture for the website.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I fired off a couple of shots and I could see a few other tourists had entered the cave and were clearly waiting for my answer.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">They’d be waiting for a long time.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘So what do you think?’ Harry said. ‘Is this the perfect proposal?’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘It’s definitely one of your best, very romantic.’ I focused my attention on the photos I was taking.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">They were going to look fantastic with the waterfall in soft focus in the background and the fireflies in sharp detail set against the inky blue light of the moon.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘But still not the perfect proposal?’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Not for me, but someone else would love it.’ I watched the faces of the other tourists fall at my callous response. ‘We’re not together, we just work with each other.’ One couple looked at me dubiously, so I pressed on.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘Our company creates the perfect proposal, this kind of thing is our bread and butter.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I resisted the sudden urge to rush over to them and start handing out business cards.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">As if reading my mind, Harry slung an arm round my shoulder, restraining me with his hand.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I looked up at him innocently but he didn’t seem convinced.</span><span class="s5"></span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">The tourists moved further down the cave</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> leaving us alone.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘You always do that,’ Harry said.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘What, promote our business?</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I know</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> I can’t help it.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I’m just so proud of what we’ve achieved that I want to tell anyone that listens and anyone that doesn’t.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘No, not that.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">You always say </span><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;">our</span><span class="s5"> company, </span><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;">our</span><span class="s5"> business.</span><span class="s5"> It’s yours, you started it. </span><span class="s5">I’m just the tech guy.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">It was just me to start with.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I created the.PerfectProposal.com over two years ago when my boyfriend at the time proposed drunkenly to me over a greasy kebab. It struck me that maybe the menfolk of this world might need a little helping hand to create a proposal their girlfriends would remember forever.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Although the greasy kebab is not one I’m likely to forget.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">Harry was my web designer.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">When the business first started he would come by my off</span><span class="s5">ice, the back bedroom in my home</span><span class="s5">, every day to help update the website with my new ideas, photos and special offers.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">In the end it made sense to make him a permanent feature.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Our website looked fantastic and as an online company this was integral to our success.</span><span class="s5"></span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">But Harry wasn’t just the geeky IT guy, far from it.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">He was the biggest man I had ever seen in my life, with large thighs and big feet. He had stu</span><span class="s5">bbly, dark hair and chocolate </span><span class="s5">eyes.</span><span class="s5"></span><span class="s5">But he also had a vivid imagination </span><span class="s5">–</span><span class="s5"> where I was organising the logistics for a champagne helicopter trip, he would be the one that would come up with something completely unique like using fireflies.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘And you always put yourself down.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">We’re equal partners now, you helped to make the company a success too,’ I said.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">He shrugged, never keen to accept that he played such an important part in it. He gestured to the fireflies that were starting to break formation now. ‘Is it too sickly?’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I let my camera hang round my neck and leaned into him, I loved the way I fitted against him.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘I love it, I really do, it’s… magical.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">But there’s still something missing.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">Was there really such a thing as a perfect proposal?</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Three months ago, just before Valentine’s Day, Harry had made it his mission to provide me with one.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">But deep down I knew what I wanted and I doubted Harry would be able to deliver it.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I should have told him that when he first started this wild goose chase.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">It would have saved me a lot of heartache.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s9" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px;"><span class="s8" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"></span></p><p class="s10" style="text-align: start; margin-top: 36px; margin-bottom: 50px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s3">Chapter </span><span class="s3">One</span></span></p><p class="s12" style="text-align: start; margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px;"><span class="s11" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Three Months Before</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I put the phone down on another excited client and sighed.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">It was February 11</span><span class="s13" style="vertical-align: super;">th</span><span class="s5"> and we’d had a surge of customers all desperately wanting to propose on top of the Eiffel Tower on Valentine’s Day.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I felt like screaming.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">It was only by careful planning that I’d arranged that my customers weren’t going to be there at the same time.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">That’s just what a girl wants to feel special, to see other girls being proposed to at the same place and time that she was.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Was there no originality anymore?</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Harry was brilliant at coming up with unique proposals, but no matter how many times I had tried to sell Harry’s ideas to them, they wanted the traditional and that was that.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Another Eiffel Tower?’ asked Harry as he absent</span><span class="s5">minded</span><span class="s5">ly uploaded photos to our rolling gallery.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘He wants a dozen red roses delivered to the observation deck at eight.’ I rubbed my head in defeat.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘What about something different, going to the ballet or proposing over a bag of chips at the end of Brighton Pier?’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">He swivelled in his chair.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘What would be your perfect proposal?’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I looked at him and had a sudden flash of him holding me in his arms and asking me to marry him.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘I don’t know, the perfect guy would definitely be a bonus.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Ok so you have your perfect guy and it’s not greasy kebab boy –’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Let’s be clear, it was the kebab that was greasy not the man.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">He waved away the details.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘So Orlando Bloom or some other non-greasy hunk is asking you to marry him, how would he do it?’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I took a sip of tea whilst I pondered this.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">If one of my customers phoned up at a loss for inspiration I had a hundred ideas.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">But for me, my mind was blank.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘I have an idea.’ Harry’s eyes were suddenly bright with excitement.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">He whirled round on his chair and started tapping away furiously on his computer.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I peered over his shoulder at our website.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s14" style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Proposer’s Blog</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;">How </span><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;">D</span><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;">o </span><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;">Y</span><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;">ou </span><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;">P</span><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;">ropose to a Proposer?</span><span class="s5"></span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;">Over the next hundred days I intend to find out.</span><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;"> </span><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;">I will find one hundred ways to propose to our Chief Proposer Suzie McKenzie</span><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;">,</span><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;"> and post the results here for your enjoyment.</span><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;"> </span><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;">One thing’s for sure, not one of my proposals will be on top of the Eiffel Tower with a dozen red roses.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘You can’t put that, we’ve had fifteen customers </span><span class="s5">who</span><span class="s5"> want to propose like that over the last week,’ I said, ignoring the sudden thundering of my heart that Harry was going to propose to me.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Then maybe they’ll have a rethink.’ Harry was already uploading a picture of a diamond ring onto the blog.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Or ask for their money back.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">But Harry was still writing.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;">Day 1</span><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;">: </span><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;">The </span><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;">T</span><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;">raditional </span><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;">P</span><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;">roposal.</span><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;"> </span><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;">Location</span><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;">:</span><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;"> Our office.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">He stood up and got down on one knee</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">–</span><span class="s5"> yanking the snake ring off his thumb</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> he held it aloft to my shocked face.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Suzie McKenzie, you are my best friend and I cannot imagine finding anyone I would rather spend the rest of my life with.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Marry me.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">The world stopped. My mouth was dry.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">How unfair was it that the one thing I wanted most in the world was happening right in front of me and it was as real as a pair of breasts on Sunset Boulevard.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I wanted to snatch the ring off him, stuff it on my finger and march him down to the nearest registry office.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">But I didn’t.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I cleared my throat of the huge lump.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘Too clichéd, wrong location, wrong ring.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">He grinned as he appraised his ring and stood up, clearly not fussed by this rejection.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">He started typing.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;">Crashed and Burned.</span><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;"> </span><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;">Apparently a snake ring with evil red eyes and the beige walls of our cramped office isn’t good enough for her.</span><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;"> </span><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;">I’ll try again tomorrow.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">Surely not.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">A hundred days of this torment?</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I didn’t think I could bear it.</span><span class="s5"></span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">He looked at his watch. ‘Oh, I’ve got to go, hot date with Sexy Samantha again tonight.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">Samantha was his first girlfriend in nearly a year.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">When I first met him he seemed to go through a different girl each week, so I wasn’t sure why he’d gone through the sudden dry patch.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">But Samantha was definitely the type to tempt him out of it.</span><span class="s5"></span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I’d had the pleasure of meeting Sexy Samantha the night before. Suspicious of Harry’s relationship with his best friend, she’d barrelled into my home and demanded that Harry introduce me.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I came downstairs in leggings and an oversized black hoodie</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">–</span><span class="s5"> I knew I was hardly dressed to impress. And impress her I didn’t.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">The look of relief when Samantha saw me was palpable.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">She</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> on the other hand</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> was a vision of </span><span class="s5">heavenly</span><span class="s5"> loveliness.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">She was almost as tall as Harry, </span><span class="s5">with </span><span class="s5">long blonde hair</span><span class="s5"> and</span><span class="s5"> curves everywhere</span><span class="s5">.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">M</span><span class="s5">y eyes were immediately drawn to a big pair of breasts, squeezed between an overly </span><span class="s5">tight top</span><span class="s5">. Harry was definitely a breast man.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">All of his girlfriends were very well</span><span class="s5">-</span><span class="s5">endowed in the breast department.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Some of the breasts, I suspected</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> weren’t even real</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">–</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">though Harry didn’t seem to mind. I was more in the straight up, straight down department, definitely no curves and not really any breasts to speak of.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I watched Harry log off his computer with haste and obvious excitement about what Sexy Samantha had in store for him that night.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘I have a hot date too,’ I blurted out, watching for any flicker of jealousy.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Of course there was none.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘That’s great </span><span class="s5">Suze</span><span class="s5">.’ He looked genuinely pleased. ‘You haven’t seen anyone since Jack…’ He trailed off.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">My life was defined into two segments.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Before Jack and After Jack.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I wondered if Jules felt the same.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">He grabbed his jacket, averting his eyes from me, perhaps knowing that he had said something he shouldn’t.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘It’s about time you got back on the horse again. We can swap notes tomorrow.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Or not.’ I couldn’t bear thinking about that conversation.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">The literal ins and outs of Harry’s date would be something I really didn’t want to hear.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I’d changed the subject twice that morning already when he started giving me explicit details that would be right at home on the pages of </span><span class="s5">an erotic fiction novel. </span><span class="s5">Sexy Samantha was far kinkier than those baby blue eyes might suggest.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Besides</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> what did I have to contribute to that conversation?</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">My hot date consisted of a tub of Ben and Jerry’s and a night in with the beautiful Brad Pitt.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I logged off my own computer, keen to show him I also had something exciting to run off to.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Where did you meet him?’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I racked my brain as I fluffed out my hair in the reflection of a photo showing me and Harry covered in snow and grinning ear to ear after sledging a</span><span class="s5">t the indoor Snow Zone. </span><span class="s5">Before Jack.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Skiing,’ I said, then wished I hadn’t.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">He stopped in his hasty exit. ‘Skiing? When have you been skiing?’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘I go every Sunday</span><span class="s5">, skiing lessons, he’s my ski instructor.’ I was making it worse.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘You hate skiing.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I had said that hadn’t I.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Because this photo was taken when we had our first and last skiing lesson a year before.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I had spent forty minutes falling on my bum</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">–</span><span class="s5"> as kids as young as five glided effortlessly past me</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">–</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">and the last twenty minutes of the lesson, after Harry had been upgraded to the adult slopes, trying to get up and rolling around on the floor with my skis in the air, looking like an oversized beetle stranded on its back.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Harry had felt sorry for me that I had failed so spectacularly and had taken me sledging instead.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Much more up my street.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">There was no skill at all involved in sliding down a slope in a red plastic sledge.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘I like it now.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I’m very proficient. Obviously just needed the right instructor.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Well that’s great, maybe we can go together sometime.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I fixed a smile onto my face.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘Maybe.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘What’s his name?’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I cast around for a suitable name and a suitable adjective to describe him, something comparable to Sexy Samantha. I had nothing, no names in my head at all.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">The only name in my head was Harry and that would be too weird.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">He was staring at me, waiting for me to come up with a name, the silence stretched on. I had to say something.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Tim.’ I almost shouted out with relief.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘Tiny Tim.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Great. Just great.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">Harry’s face fell.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘Tiny Tim?’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Yes.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘As in…’ he waggled his little finger at me.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘No, no, of course not, he’s very big in that department.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Big all over in fact.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Huge.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">It’s kind of an ironic name.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Big like me?’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Well I have no idea how big you are in that department.’ My eyes cast down to the sizeable bulge in his jeans and I felt my cheeks burn as he clearly saw me checking him out.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘I meant in height,’ Harry said.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I’m sure I saw his mouth twitch as he supressed a smile.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Oh yes, he’s very tall.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Good. That’s good.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I have a friend who’s a ski instructor at the Sno</span><span class="s5">w Zone</span><span class="s5">, he might know your Tim</span><span class="s5">.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">W</span><span class="s5">hat’s his surname</span><span class="s5">?</span><span class="s5">’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘</span><span class="s5">Timmings</span><span class="s5">.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I was a terrible liar.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Tim </span><span class="s5">Timmings</span><span class="s5">?’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘That’s right.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">A horn tooted outside and Harry peeled back the net curtain to wave at Sexy Samantha as she leaned on the bonnet of her sexy red convertible.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I didn’t think I’d ever be so relieved to see her again.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Well have fun.’ Harry threw me a cursory wave as he thundered down the stairs.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">A second later I heard the front door slam.</span><span class="s5"></span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I peered out the window, hoping not to be noticed as Harry swept Sexy Samantha into his arms and swung her round as if he hadn’t seen her in months.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">As he deposited her on the floor she waved up at me and I was forced to wave politely back.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">With a wheel spin and the stereo blaring out something young and hip, the red convertible roared up the road</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> taking my heart with it.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I’d been in love with Harry for two long, painful years and we were further away today from getting together than we had been when we first met.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">We were now firmly in the friend zone and there was never any coming back from that.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">Two years was way too long for unrequited love.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">It was time I moved on with someone else.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I would just fall out of love with him, simple as that.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I sighed as I walked into my bedroom and got changed into my cow print onesie. I flicked through some songs on my i</span><span class="s5">P</span><span class="s5">od until I found something suitably rousing and as Gloria Gaynor started belting out </span><span class="s5">‘</span><span class="s7" style="font-style: italic;">I am what I am</span><span class="s5">’</span><span class="s5">, I turned up the volume, leapt up onto the bed and danced and wiggled my bum in time with the lyrics.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I was highly skilled in the playing of air drums and as Gloria reached a crescendo so did my frenetic drum playing. As the instrumental kicked in I leapt off the bed, doing the splits mid-air</span><span class="s5">.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I </span><span class="s5">pulled a muscle in my groin and</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">as I flicked my hair theatrically out of my face</span><span class="s5"> I </span><span class="s5">saw Harry’s eyes widen in horror as I landed on top of him, one leg somehow hooked over his shoulder as my other foot kicked him square in his crotch.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">He screamed in pain.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I screamed with embarrassment as he staggered back and landed hard on his bum, my leg still wrapped round his neck.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">Gloria was still singing loudly in the background as we stared at each other.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Finally I managed to speak.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘What are you doing here?’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Currently, wondering if I’ll ever be able to have sex again.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Can you please get off my lap</span><span class="s5">?</span><span class="s5">’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I quickly climbed off him, kneeing him in the face as I tried to stand up.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">He slowly staggered to his feet, doubled over in obvious pain.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘I forgot my wallet,’ he said, by way of explanation.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I swallowed.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘You saw me dance?’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">He lifted his head and this time there was no mistaking the grin.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘From the very beginning to the dramatic finale.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I groaned.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘I better go, Samantha will be wondering where I am.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Nice onesie by the way.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Does Tiny Tim have one too?</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">A horse or a pig perhaps?’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I stared down at myself, at the pink udders hanging limply from my stomach</span><span class="s5">,</span><span class="s5"> and wanted the ground to swallow me up.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘He’s not coming round till later.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘Of course not.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">And I imagine he thinks you look quite cute in it.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">Cute?</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Puppies were cute.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">Is that how he thought of me, as a cute little puppy?</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">He moved to the top of the stairs and I followed him.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Do you think I look cute in it?’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">He turned and walked back up a few stairs, kneeling on the stair below me so we were eye to eye.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘Yes.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">My heart dropped. I was so far in the friend zone I was now categorised as cute.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">He’d be patting me on the back next and telling me he saw me like a sister.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘Sexy cute?’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘No.’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">My heart sank into my feet.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">‘I bet Samantha would look sexy in it?’</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘I doubt it.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I don’t think it’s possible for anyone to look sexy in it.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I felt slightly better at this.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">‘And don’t underestimate the value of cute, it’s a great quality to have.’</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">He leaned forward and kissed me on the nose.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">‘And don’t stay up too late, I have a big day planned for you tomorrow.’</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span class="s5" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">He ran down the stairs and was gone a second later.</span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">I touched my nose, still feeling the softness of his lips.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">He thought I was cute.</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s5">I smiled as I fell in love with him all over again.</span></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5">To see chapter 2 check back here tomorrow or pre –order your copy of One Hundred Proposals now. </span><a href="http://amzn.to/1ouP9w0"><span class="s15">http://amzn.to/1ouP9w0</span></a></span></p><p class="s6" style="margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px; text-indent: 18px; text-align: justify;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><a name="_GoBack"></a></span></p><p class="s6" style="text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>Kim The Book Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06498912722314773900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6923226901671476431.post-67178229813745030412014-06-17T13:10:00.000+01:002014-06-17T13:10:00.893+01:00Review - The No-Kids Club by Talli Roland<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBOhwOPeDY1jKlByC6-ekrT5_BD9fasuD4UFi5pimAuIoYNDicD5HUH_X7rn4Mx8j-kDVz-biP0sWZiPgrUsirYYH-yxzA3UNehnpYkT0Gf-SR0SCqHfMtIrtvMhQGjPhAeM336vGH09w/s1600/The-No-Kids-Club-by-Talli-Roland.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBOhwOPeDY1jKlByC6-ekrT5_BD9fasuD4UFi5pimAuIoYNDicD5HUH_X7rn4Mx8j-kDVz-biP0sWZiPgrUsirYYH-yxzA3UNehnpYkT0Gf-SR0SCqHfMtIrtvMhQGjPhAeM336vGH09w/s1600/The-No-Kids-Club-by-Talli-Roland.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><u>About the book </u></strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At almost forty, Clare Donoghue is living child-free and loving it.</span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then her boyfriend says he wants kids, breaking off their promising relationship. And it’s not just boyfriends: one by one, her formerly carefree friends are swallowed up in a nonstop cycle of play dates and baby groups. So Clare decides it’s time for people who don’t have children to band together. And so the No-Kids Club is born.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As the group comes together—Anna, who’s seeking something to jumpstart a stale marriage, and Poppy, desperate for a family but unable to conceive—Clare’s hoping to make the most of the childless life with her new friends.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Will the No-Kids Club be Clare’s route to happiness, or will the single life lose its sparkle?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><span style="color: black;">'<em>The No-Kids Club</em> is another winner by Talli Roland! It was well-written and fast-paced, and enjoyable to the very last page.’ —The Book Chick</span></strong> </span></div>
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<strong><u><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What did I think? </span></u></strong><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As usual, I really enjoyed another Talli Roland book. It was a thoroughly enjoyable read with a rollercoaster of emotions from many hilarious moments to one particular moment where I couldn't breathe for crying! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The message I got from the book is that life sometimes just happens and you just have to go with it. Life doesn't always go as you planned it to, and they say everything happens for a reason. Sometimes things happen before you feel that you are fully ready or you could wait for ever for something that you want to happen so much and life changes along the way and that original thing is not possible anymore. Sometimes the best things ever can come from moments like that! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's about making the most of every situation while you are living in it and don't let obsessive thoughts and behaviour rule your life because one day you might realise that your life has changed without you being a part of it anymore. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm getting all philosophical now so I'll stop! It's a great book that is hugely entertaining. I look forward every time to a Talli Roland book and I'm never disappointed! Well done on another fab book Talli. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj1EXVqbaz4oIeTrLFrtdfqqWWOxAJ7gKy8XxJm0tzPd-vaYnGRbd3zwbb6GS2GlQXHNhdhpraYRaXQ-MfP4HeRFrDZyhCN5gSlHgYCMiLufjC81HRPxo8DI5oHJNqd1p6cIfQoQlapEY/s1600/Talli.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj1EXVqbaz4oIeTrLFrtdfqqWWOxAJ7gKy8XxJm0tzPd-vaYnGRbd3zwbb6GS2GlQXHNhdhpraYRaXQ-MfP4HeRFrDZyhCN5gSlHgYCMiLufjC81HRPxo8DI5oHJNqd1p6cIfQoQlapEY/s1600/Talli.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><u>About the author</u></strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Talli can't remember <span style="font-style: italic;">not </span>writing -- she's always loved making things up and is not quite sure how this led to seeking a career in journalism, then public relations, and then teaching, but she has now finally returned to the thing I love best: telling stories.</span></div>
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<span><span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She is a huge fan of coffee, burnt toast (carbon - yum!), and wine -- in that order. She also loves exploring her adopted city of London, reading anything and everything, and, of course, spending time with her husband and young son. </span></span></span></div>
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<span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Talli's fun, humorous, romantic novels have been shortlisted twice for awards at the UK's Festival of Romance, selected as Customer Favourites and Editor's Picks on Amazon, and chosen as top books of the year by industry review websites. </span></span></div>
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<span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She <span style="text-decoration: underline;"><a dataquery="#Link1yks" href="http://talliroland.blogspot.com/" style="cursor: pointer;" target="_blank"><strong>blogs regularly</strong></a></span> on random topics and you can find out when wine o'clock strikes (among other things!) by<span style="text-decoration: underline;"><a dataquery="#Link1fow" href="http://www.twitter.com/talliroland" style="cursor: pointer;" target="_blank"> <strong>following her on Twitter</strong></a></span>. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;"><span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Talli encourages her readers to <span style="text-decoration: underline;"><a dataquery="#Linkqlb" href="mailto:talli@talliroland.com?subject=Hello!" style="cursor: pointer;" target="_blank">get in touch</a></span> at any time!</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You can buy "The No-Kids Club" from </span><a href="http://talliroland.us2.list-manage.com/track/click?u=4e45af76bb0ebca52da4339f8&id=e6a4afbc37&e=bbdbcadcaa" style="color: #336699; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>Amazon.co.uk here</strong></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, or from </span><a href="http://talliroland.us2.list-manage.com/track/click?u=4e45af76bb0ebca52da4339f8&id=f93ecd69ea&e=bbdbcadcaa" style="color: #336699; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>Amazon.com here</strong></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You can also </span><a href="http://talliroland.us2.list-manage1.com/track/click?u=4e45af76bb0ebca52da4339f8&id=e2b93dbc89&e=bbdbcadcaa" style="color: #336699; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">add it to your Goodreads</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">.</span></div>
Kim The Book Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06498912722314773900noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6923226901671476431.post-45823284699295148662014-06-13T10:03:00.004+01:002014-06-13T10:35:54.271+01:00Review & Giveaway - Just Desserts by Sue Welfare<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeSvFcnQdNdNX64oJJHlnHuf5NGDV_4RMBHi-_E5UpT0FiEC_Jkoto6Y5hm1iTXIrPYmX7iKDLT9vbHY3QpavV5Wbxl8miCfNJjluOvy8_zNdUsKZOljUQ1nVhsf5XGQ4d3c6kj6gszAc/s1600/10306904_10202128776648965_506769701_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeSvFcnQdNdNX64oJJHlnHuf5NGDV_4RMBHi-_E5UpT0FiEC_Jkoto6Y5hm1iTXIrPYmX7iKDLT9vbHY3QpavV5Wbxl8miCfNJjluOvy8_zNdUsKZOljUQ1nVhsf5XGQ4d3c6kj6gszAc/s1600/10306904_10202128776648965_506769701_n.jpg" height="320" width="207" /></a></div>
Here's my review of another fabulous book by Sue Welfare and you also have the opportunity to win one of three copies of a Kindle voucher for this book by entering the competition at the bottom of this page. <br />
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<strong><u>About the book</u></strong><br />
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After spending a lifetime looking after her husband, Harry, Katherine Bourne has had enough. Every time she chops up her delicious home-grown tomatoes she dreams of murdering her husband. Why can’t Harry just have an affair with a younger woman, and leave? <br />
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Trouble is Harry has no intention of giving up his home comforts. Not when he’s been having his cake and eating it for years. Glamorous banker Carol accompanies him on business trips and the odd weekend away, but she too is beginning to think maybe life with Harry is growing stale. <br />
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So who’s fooling who? Harry, happy in his illusion that he’s a sex god and all his women love him? Katherine and Carol, unlikely partners in Harry’s parallel lives? Against a background of gleeful coincidences, cute Cambridge cafes and the unexpected joys of unexplored freedom, the women decide that revenge is a dish best eaten cold. <br />
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First published in 1999, Just Desserts takes us back to an era of shoulder pads and fax machines, and proves that when it comes to love and betrayal some stories are timeless. <br />
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<strong><u>What did I think?</u></strong><br />
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This was one of those books that I couldn't put down. I just had to know what was going to happen next. Nothing came before this book! <br />
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It's very difficult to talk about the book without spoiling the plot but I loved the character of Katherine and just wanted her to live a happy and fulfilled life. I even warmed to Carol and loved the way that Sue built their unusual relationship. Sue has an amazing gift of creating scenes that are so easy to picture as well as her perfectly formed characters that are easily to relate to and imagine. I felt like I'd sat in Katherine's kitchen many times. <br />
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It's a book where I tried not the judge the characters, but Harry was the baddie of the story and I wanted to slap him right from the start! <br />
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A perfectly written book, with lots of funny moments and a few emotional ones too which made for an extremely entertaining read. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgddmeKO8y_FobOtTTWPq3hyphenhyphen4RYCeWSQfJNF2GnUdVHJLEW670nrsS-2aVyIv6vTn_xoJHU6iVv9QFYREZ4sDxqz7PFLYLAESjcNOQiCyo8i8f0WMhCC4aIsbP4IHl8zTrcKtrSTXDsqw4/s1600/suewelfare-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgddmeKO8y_FobOtTTWPq3hyphenhyphen4RYCeWSQfJNF2GnUdVHJLEW670nrsS-2aVyIv6vTn_xoJHU6iVv9QFYREZ4sDxqz7PFLYLAESjcNOQiCyo8i8f0WMhCC4aIsbP4IHl8zTrcKtrSTXDsqw4/s1600/suewelfare-1.jpg" height="320" width="228" /></a></div>
<strong><u>About the author</u></strong><br />
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<strong>Susan Welfare</strong>, is an English <a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Romantic_Fiction" title="Romantic Fiction"><span style="color: black;">Romantic Fiction</span></a><span style="color: black;"> writer who also writes under the pseudonyms Kate Lawson and Gemma Fox. She is also the creator of </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/BBC" title="BBC"><span style="color: black;">BBC</span></a><span style="color: black;"> </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/BBC_Radio_Norfolk" title="BBC Radio Norfolk"><span style="color: black;">Radio Norfolk</span></a><span style="color: black;">'s first audio drama Little Bexham. She attended </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Downham_Market" title="Downham Market"><span style="color: black;">Downham Market</span></a><span style="color: black;"> Grammar School and has lived in </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Norfolk" title="Norfolk"><span style="color: black;">Norfolk</span></a><span style="color: black;"> all her life. 'Just Desserts' was her second</span> book and made the Times Best Seller list in Jan 1999, and has been released as an ebook. <br />
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You can find out more about Sue, Kate & Gemma at <a href="http://www.katelawson.co.uk/"><strong>www.katelawson.co.uk</strong></a>. <br />
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You can buy this book by <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Just-Desserts-Sue-Welfare-ebook/dp/B00KY653NE/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1402636690&sr=1-1&keywords=Just+Desserts+Sue+Welfare"><strong>clicking this link</strong></a><br />
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Or you can win one of three copies of Just Desserts as Kindle vouchers by entering this competition: <br />
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Kim The Book Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06498912722314773900noreply@blogger.com41tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6923226901671476431.post-37649370161858184362014-06-10T12:33:00.000+01:002014-06-10T12:33:55.185+01:00Cover Reveal - One Hundred Proposals by Holly Martin<div>
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<strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm delighted to be able to share the cover of One Hundred Proposals by Holly Martin </span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I absolutely love this stunning cover! Can't wait to get started on this book! </span></strong><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">‘Is there really such a thing as a perfect proposal?</span></strong></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Over the next hundred days I intend to find out. I will find one hundred ways to propose to our Chief Proposer Suzie McKenzie and post the results here for your enjoyment. One thing’s for sure, not one of my proposals will be on top of the Eiffel Tower with a dozen red roses.’</span></i><em><br /></em><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Best friends Suzie and Harry are partners in romance. That is, they run the.PerfectProposal.com, coming to the aid of would-be grooms to create the ultimate marriage proposal. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But when Harry decides to catapult the business into the big leagues with a PR stunt all Suzie can see is a hundred days of heartbreak stretching ahead of her. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But however exotic the location, or breath-takingly romantic the setting, Suzie has to keep remembering that ‘Marry Me?’ is the one question she can’t say yes to.</span></div>
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<b><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This business proposal should come with one hundred broken heart warnings... </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One hundred proposals, one hundred chances to say yes.</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />You can pre-order this book now, here are the buy links: </span><a href="http://amzn.to/1ouP9w0" target="_blank"><span style="color: #8c0095; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">http://amzn.to/1ouP9w0</span></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And here's a fun video to promote the book too! Enjoy! </span><br />
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Kim The Book Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06498912722314773900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6923226901671476431.post-22813736578067378542014-06-06T12:21:00.001+01:002014-06-07T17:00:23.934+01:00Review - A Summer to Remember by Victoria Connelly<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<strong><u><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">About the book</span></u></strong><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Nina is not sure how it happened, but somewhere along the way, she lost track of where it was all going. So one, fateful day, she makes a brave decision: she's going to leave it all behind.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Taking a job deep in the English countryside, Nina does just that. Ensconced at The Old Mill, she settles into daily life with the Milton family, where she works as a researcher for aspiring author Dudley. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With endless summer days stretching out ahead of her, Nina couldn't be happier. But her quiet life is soon interrupted when the handsome Milton boys return home - for they plan to make sure this really is a summer to remember. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><u>What did I think?</u></strong> </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was a lovely, gentle read which filled me full of warm summer moments. I loved the main character of Nina and I loved the sound of the Old Mill House. Would have been quite happy to go and live there myself and drink endless cups of tea in the glorious garden. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I personally found the story quite predictable but that was what I actually loved about it and the ending was exactly the ending I wanted. The characters were all very easy to love and relate to and I actually felt part of the family and was looking forward to the party as if I was going to it myself. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was a charming, delightful, heart-warming book that does everything that a book should do in my opinion. Left me feeling full of love, full of hope and full of joy! Another fabulous Victoria Connelly book to add to my collection. </span><br>
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<strong><u><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">About the author</span></u></strong><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Victoria Connelly was brought up in Norfolk and studied English literature at Worcester Uni before becoming a teacher in North Yorkshire. After getting married in a medieval castle and living in London for 11 years, she moved to rural Suffolk with her artist husband and ever-increasing menagerie of animals.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You can find out more about Victoria and her books at </span><a href="http://www.victoriaconnelly.com/"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">www.victoriaconnelly.com</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You can follow Victoria on Twitter </span><a href="http://www.twitter.com/DictoriaDarcy"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">www.twitter.com/DictoriaDarcy</span></a><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You can follow Avon Books on Twitter </span><a href="http://www.twitter.com/AvonBooksUK"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">www.twitter.com/AvonBooksUK</span></a><br>
Kim The Book Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06498912722314773900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6923226901671476431.post-10203427301738362482014-06-04T18:33:00.000+01:002014-06-05T06:25:59.101+01:00Striker by Michelle Betham<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyV5XDBDk7kHnUD35RL8YyUxF2C1cIZsvbNhZBSDRiMmgSwokV0ECtZLzWeqGYTTHJdUXydRsLc3O5CCVYFtSfaMgMNGaHCW4T9oQB9NlCvDHxz_WrhO3x0SpGFF0tNrrM9l3OVDJlzvE/s1600/StrikerCover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyV5XDBDk7kHnUD35RL8YyUxF2C1cIZsvbNhZBSDRiMmgSwokV0ECtZLzWeqGYTTHJdUXydRsLc3O5CCVYFtSfaMgMNGaHCW4T9oQB9NlCvDHxz_WrhO3x0SpGFF0tNrrM9l3OVDJlzvE/s1600/StrikerCover.jpg" height="320" width="210"></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Delighted to be handing you straight over to the lovely Michelle Betham who will tell you all about her fabulous 'Striker'. Over to you Michelle while I go and join your<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <span class="entity _586o" data-fulltext="Striker "kick-off" Release Day Party!" data-group="all" data-icon="null" data-select="group" data-si="true" data-text="Striker "kick-off" Release Day Party!" data-type="ent:event" data-uid="570383513082491"><span style="color: black;"><strong><a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/570383513082491/?ref_dashboard_filter=upcoming">Striker "kick-off" Release Day Party!</a></strong></span></span> where I have been promised non-stop Beckham pic</span>tures all day: </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">First of all, thank you so much to Kim for allowing me to sneak onto her blog today to help celebrate the Harper Impulse re-release of my previously self-published sexy soccer romance ‘Striker’ – the first in a trilogy of books due to be released over the next couple of months. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Set against the backdrop of a fictional north east Premier League football club, ‘Striker’ centres around the complicated relationships involving local hero and bad boy soccer star Ryan Fisher, sexy sports reporter Amber Sullivan and the charming, charismatic American-born manager Jim Allen. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But with action you won’t find on any of the pitches during this summer’s upcoming World Cup, ‘Striker’ really is more about the sex than the soccer… </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><u>Striker Book Blurb </u></strong></span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This summer, it’s time to play dirty… </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Amber Sullivan is an ambitious, beautiful and feisty Sports reporter for a local TV news programme. With an ex-professional soccer player for a father, she’s grown up in and around the world of premiership football, and boy does she know better than to get mixed up with the men who play the game. As rich and charming as they are, Amber has a strict no player rule. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One of the biggest names in football, Ryan Fisher is young, hot, and talented. He has it all – looks, fame, money; not to mention women falling at his over-insured feet and a lifestyle he’s in no hurry to give up. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At the centre of a multi-million-pound transfer deal back to his home club, Ryan’s a big scoop for a local sports journalist and Amber can’t afford to miss this career-making opportunity – even if that means having to interview the cocky sports star. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But once the tape starts rolling it’s clear Ryan’s got more than just an exclusive on his mind… and he’s used to getting exactly what he wants. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Delving into the lives of those who live and work within the so-called Beautiful Game, ‘Striker’ is a story of sex, secrets and the true cost of fame. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Footballers’ Wives meets Jackie Collins in this sizzling scorcher of a summer read! </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><u>Buy Links </u></strong></span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Striker is available to download now from Amazon, and all major retailers. Find out more by visiting the HarperImpulse ‘Striker’ page </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.harperimpulseromance.com/books/striker">http://www.harperimpulseromance.com/books/striker</a> </span>Kim The Book Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06498912722314773900noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6923226901671476431.post-43170912972112635792014-06-03T07:19:00.002+01:002014-06-03T07:20:22.268+01:00The No-Kids Club by Talli Roland<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Congratulations to the lovely Talli Roland whose book "The No-Kids" is out today. Here's the blurb about the book. I can't wait to read it. Talli is a brilliant author whose books are full of life and vitality and make you just want to jump right into them. It's right at the top of my to be read pile. I'm nearly there!</span><br />
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<a href="http://talliroland.us2.list-manage.com/track/click?u=4e45af76bb0ebca52da4339f8&id=604074ccb8&e=bbdbcadcaa" style="color: #336699; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline;" target="_blank"><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img align="left" height="225" src="https://dub130.mail.live.com/Handlers/ImageProxy.mvc?bicild=&canary=deqrg5so1L2JPvTsVbUj8Rab5Fidb7iHDQexYfGXe%2f8%3d0&url=http%3a%2f%2fgallery.mailchimp.com%2f4e45af76bb0ebca52da4339f8%2fimages%2fd7ca8f0f-7b6b-417a-971c-6c6cc076d9b5.jpg" style="border: 0px currentColor; display: inline; height: 225px; line-height: 100%; text-decoration: none; width: 150px;" width="150" /></span></em></a><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At almost forty, Clare Donoghue is living child-free and loving it.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then her boyfriend says he wants kids, breaking off their promising relationship. And it’s not just boyfriends: one by one, her formerly carefree friends are swallowed up in a nonstop cycle of play dates and baby groups. So Clare decides it’s time for people who don’t have children to band together. And so the No-Kids Club is born.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As the group comes together—Anna, who’s seeking something to jumpstart a stale marriage, and Poppy, desperate for a family but unable to conceive—Clare’s hoping to make the most of the childless life with her new friends.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Will the No-Kids Club be Clare’s route to happiness, or will the single life lose its sparkle?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><span style="color: black;">'<em>The No-Kids Club</em> is another winner by Talli Roland! It was well-written and fast-paced, and enjoyable to the very last page.’ —The Book Chick</span></strong> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You can buy "The No-Kids Club" from </span><a href="http://talliroland.us2.list-manage.com/track/click?u=4e45af76bb0ebca52da4339f8&id=e6a4afbc37&e=bbdbcadcaa" style="color: #336699; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Amazon.co.uk here</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, or from </span><a href="http://talliroland.us2.list-manage.com/track/click?u=4e45af76bb0ebca52da4339f8&id=f93ecd69ea&e=bbdbcadcaa" style="color: #336699; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Amazon.com here</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> You can also </span><a href="http://talliroland.us2.list-manage1.com/track/click?u=4e45af76bb0ebca52da4339f8&id=e2b93dbc89&e=bbdbcadcaa" style="color: #336699; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">add it to your Goodreads</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">.</span></div>
Kim The Book Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06498912722314773900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6923226901671476431.post-47687268277295916522014-06-02T10:59:00.003+01:002014-06-02T11:11:59.011+01:00Review - After The Honeymoon by Janey Fraser <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">About the Book</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>Three couples. One honeymoon destination....</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Emma never wanted to marry Tom, let alone go away without the children. But then the girls at work give her a honeymoon voucher. Enter Yannis, the local lothario.. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Winston is the nation’s Keep Fit bachelor darling. Newspapers are agog when he marries Melissa, newly-divorced mother of two. But when her teenagers disrupt their honeymoon, his past is revealed....</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Rosie was homeless and pregnant when she arrived at the Villa Rosa, sixteen years ago, but now she’s the owner. Winston might not remember <i>her,</i> but she’s never forgotten him…</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">By the end of the week, none of their lives are the same. But what happens <i>after</i> the honeymoon?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>What did I think? </strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For starters I wanted to go to Villa Rosa and never leave! I could quite understand why Rosie had stayed there. I could actually feel myself eating delicious greek food on the terrace, sunbathing round the pool with the characters and strolling along the beach and felt the sun beating down on my face. I would definitely be googling a holiday to Villa Rosa if it were real. It was definitely my type of place. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I loved the characters, particularly Rosie who seemed like a genuinely good person who had spent her life doing all she could for her son and adored the relationship she had with her son. I loved the way that the characters lives were all intertwined with each other, there was tons going on in the plot, but it was all very easy to follow and read about. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I thoroughly enjoyed reading this book, found it incredibly entertaining and couldn't wait to find out what was going to happen to the characters and their troubled lives. It was a really easy book to read, the pages just kept on turning themselves. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfDBBa_P9XDWgapf8LTEdiobsD4h44qlDuBKEFfJTWK7gtrRDAhqSTqYRZRUguAIydoo9iuYp_nbnxw7YUiKI8NyW_43q_o8Vjp2vseAZW1HXe6PEKAwuVjCqtQZOgqF7ZPW1ejDELSqs/s1600/janeyfraserbw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfDBBa_P9XDWgapf8LTEdiobsD4h44qlDuBKEFfJTWK7gtrRDAhqSTqYRZRUguAIydoo9iuYp_nbnxw7YUiKI8NyW_43q_o8Vjp2vseAZW1HXe6PEKAwuVjCqtQZOgqF7ZPW1ejDELSqs/s1600/janeyfraserbw.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>About the author</strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Janey Fraser is the pen name for journalist Jane Bidder who also writes as Sophie King. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Her previous novels include THE SCHOOL RUN and THE WEDDING PARTY which was short listed for Love Story of the Year 2010.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For many years, Jane was a journalist on women’s magazines and until recently, edited the family page of Woman. Now she writes ‘ MUM LIT’ novels about the ups and downs of family life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She has three children of her own which gives her plenty of experience to write about. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If you’d like to find out about competitions or events, <strong> <!-- // MAILCHIMP SUBSCRIBE CODE \\ --> </strong></span><a href="http://eepurl.com/iO1In"><span style="color: #0000cc; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>please sign up to her regular email newsletter</strong></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>.</strong></span><!-- \\ MAILCHIMP SUBSCRIBE LINK // --> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Find out more about Jane at <a href="http://www.janeyfraser.co.uk/"><strong>www.janeyfraser.co.uk</strong></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">You can <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/After-Honeymoon-Janey-Fraser/dp/0099580845/"><strong>buy this book via Amazon UK</strong></a> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Like <a href="https://www.facebook.com/janeyfraserauthor"><strong>Janey's page on Facebook</strong></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Follow <a href="http://www.twitter.com/janey_fraser"><strong>Janey on Twitter</strong></a> </span></div>
Kim The Book Wormhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06498912722314773900noreply@blogger.com0