Ros Clarke's Blog, page 6

What’s the difference between a curricle and a high-perch phaeton?

You know how sometimes when you read something, it lodges in your brain and becomes bigger than the thing it was in the book? I had that experience with Sarah Mayberry’s Satisfaction. I liked the book quite a lot, although I didn’t like think it was one of her very best books. But it had a line that really stood out for me. And in the context of recent kerfuffles, it seems even more important than it did when I read it a couple of months ago.

Our heroine, you see runs a bookshop. She sells all kinds of books but she likes to read romance. She tells the hero this and mentions Georgette Heyer among her favourite authors. Sometime later, lying in bed after the sexytimes, Rafel asks Maggie what the difference is between a curricle and a high-perch phaeton. He’s been reading Heyer.

Because she said it was good.

And he’s enjoying it enough to want to understand it properly. So he asks Maggie, who reads these books a lot, to explain it to him. And then they talk about romance books and reading and what he likes to read. And all the way through it is clear that (a) romance books are valued and worth discussing as much as any other book, and (b) that the newcomer to the genre is not the expert (even though he is a man). Rafel is not dismissive of romance books. Rather the opposite, he trusts Maggie’s opinion about romance because she is the one who has read romance novels. And because he likes Maggie and respects her opinion about things, he reads the books she enjoys. It’s one of the most romantic gestures I can remember reading, and all the more so because Rafel doesn’t do it with that intention. For him it’s a natural thing to want to do because he takes Maggie seriously.

If you want to show that you take a person seriously, read the books they are reading. If you want to show that you take a woman seriously, recognise when she is the expert and you are the novice. It’s not rocket science.

I have dresses!

Dress 1, cobbled together from a dress I made a few years ago:

I cut some length off the skirt changing it from calf length to just above the knee. I also changed it to have short box pleats, giving a smooth section for the belt to sit on, and added the belt loops for this (the belt is from the old dress, but I lost the loops when I cut off the length). I made a version of the top then decided I didn’t like the fabric I’d used, so I did it again in this gorgeous printed stretch velvet.  No pattern for any of this. I cut the first version of the bodice based on a stretch top that fits me  pretty well, then used that to make some adjustments for this version. I’d never done this sort of ruching at the bodice but I found a tutorial online and it really is as easy as the tutorial said. You just stitch a strip of elastic down while stretched out. Close up of the ruching and the piping round the neckline:

Dress 2, from a Monsoon dress bought on sale last summer for the purpose:

I loved the fabric of the original dress, but the bodice was clearly not designed for anyone with breasts:

So, I cut the bodice off, hoiked the waistband up to empire line, which made the skirt the right length for me, then made a new bodice in midnight blue, to which I added some embellishments. I have a whole box of these bought about 10 years ago for a completely different project, but they are the perfect colours for this dress.

Dress 3, and the only one (so far) made from scratch:

This is the Strictly dress, modelled, (sort of) on one that Lisa Riley wore on the show. I love this more than I can say: pink, sparkly, feathery, glorious. The picture does not really do it justice – it will be at it’s best when I’m twirling round on a dance floor with lights reflecting. I can’t wait!  I used a Burda pattern for a wrap top, cut short so that the bodice ends just below the bust. I cut the skirt slightly on the bias in order to make the rows of feathers horizontal. It’s slightly A-line, and with the bias, it twirls beautifully. Skirt is lined, bodice is trimmed with pink/orange/gold ribbon. Close up to give a better idea of colour:

So, that’s where I’m at with a week to go! I have one more that I’d still like to make and maybe some daywear too. We’ll see. I really need to make a list of Things To Do Before I Leave and then I’ll have a better idea of how realistic that is.

Top 100

No comment required.

 

If you enjoyed An Unsuitable Husband…

Here are some suggestions of other things you might like:

More of my books:

Probably the two that are most similar in tone and style are Flirting With The Camera and Table For One. No sports, but plenty of flirting and fun.

More Indulgence books:

You could try my other Indulgence, The Oil Tycoon and Her Sexy Sheikh. There are plenty of other fun, sexy short romances in the series too. Some of my favourite are Inara Scott’s Reforming the Playboy and Rachel Lyndhurst’s The Spanish Billionaire’s Hired Bride. Look out for Rachel’s billionaire brewer coming out soon, too!

More sports romances:

I admit, I don’t read a whole lot of sports romances. I’m a bit surprised to discover that I’ve written one, to be honest. I enjoyed India Grey’s rugby romance, At The Argentine Billionaire’s Bidding and I really loved Natalie Anderson’s snowboarder in Walk on the Wild Side.

More marriage of convenience stories:

I loved Noelle Adams contemporary, Married for Christmas. I adore Georgette Heyer’s takes on the trope in The Convenient Marriage and especially A Civil Contract.

What else would you recommend?

Five days

Release week is always scary and unpredictable. Will anyone buy it? If they do, will they even read it? If they read it, will they hate it? Will it sink into oblivion, never to be noticed by the few who might enjoy it. I have been reminded this week how much easier release week is with the safety net of a publisher and their publicity and marketing teams. They sent out plenty of advance review copies of the book, so that by the time of release there were already several reviews on Goodreads, and soon after release, several on Amazon and B&N. They set up a book tour, including promo stops, guest posts, interviews, a giveaway and some reviews. Other Entangled authors generously helped with some social media – tweeting and FBing and so on. And so, by the end of day one, some people had bought it. Phew.

It’s been around #1500-#2000 on Amazon.com all week, and comfortably in the series romance top 100. It’s collected a handful of reviews, with a high average, and it seems to be holding steady. The first time I looked at the B&N ranking it was 5 or 6 figures. I can’t remember exactly. I think I shrugged and re-focused my F5ing efforts on Amazon. On Wednesday I checked again. #536. By the end of the day it was at #449. Thursday morning: #269. This morning: #130.

Only 129 books in the whole world have sold more than mine on B&N this week.



THAT IS CRAZY.

And seriously exciting. The higher it goes in the ranking, the more visibility it gets, and so the more people see it, click it and buy it. At some point, probably, that effect starts to wear off, though by then a lot of people are reading the book and, hopefully, rating it, reviewing it, talking about it… which leads to more sales. I honestly have no idea why it’s done so well at B&N, except that my books have always sold well there. For a long time, I sold more at B&N than anywhere else, by a factor of 5-10. Eventually my Amazon sales caught up and now I make about the same at each site. I’ve never done any B&N-focussed advertising or anything like that. I wouldn’t know where to start, to be honest.

At the moment, An Unsuitable Husband doesn’t feature in any sub-categories except series romance on Amazon. I’ve asked for it to be added to ‘Sports Romance’. As things stand, it would be #1 in that category on B&N and in the top 40 or 50 on Amazon. More visibility, more sales. I hope that kicks in soon while the book is still in a position to take advantage of it.

It still doesn’t have a lot of reviews – 4 or 5 on bookstore sites, less than 10 on Goodreads, but I think it’s selling better than – or at least as well as – many books with ten times that number. I hope reviews will follow from sales, but it’s sales that really matter, I think, in terms of visibility. So I’m not complaining. About anything. It’s been an amazing five days, far exceeding my expectations and hopes.

THANK YOU to everyone who’s bought it, read it, rated it, reviewed it, tweeted about it, liked it, or just helped keep me sane while it’s all been happening.

Occupational Hazard

I’m going to be in a boxed set! It’s a set of ten workplace romances by different authors, featuring a range of settings and styles from sweet to (very) sexy. It’s due out in June for a limited time only, and I hope you’ll love it!

All work and no play? No way! These TEN books by New York Times, USA Today, and National Bestselling authors show how hot workplace romances can be. And the best part? It’s just $0.99! Don’t wait…it’s only available for a limited time, and then it’ll be back to business as usual.

Retail value of the individual books is over $25.00! It includes:



My Secretary, My Mistress – Eve Langlais

Can a boss let go of his inhibitions and let his secretary take charge of him in the bedroom?

Yours to Take – Cathryn Fox

Revenge takes on a sexy twist when a powerhouse lawyer is stripped of her control by the handsome multi-millionaire she once took down in the courtroom.

Against Company Policy – Mandy Harbin

Cassie Tucker and Ian Cope know they should keep things professional on their new assignment, but when desire is faced with physical boundaries and company policy, it’s time to get a little creative…and a little kinky.

White Collar Cowboy – Parker Kincade

Lauren Delgado has had a crush on Gavin Mathis for years, but has a strict “hand-off” policy with the men she works with. When her life takes an unexpected turn, there’s nothing to stop her from accepting Gavin’s invitation to his vacation home on Galveston Island … where she learns the policy is definitely hands-on.



Seducing Chase – Cassandra Carr

When a doctor disappears with millions, can Val and Nate set aside their explosive attraction and save the hospital?



First Kiss – Ann Mayburn

Ryan will never forgot that night in high school when he kissed Emma and lost his heart to her forever. Years later he finds Emma again, but now she’s a pro-Domme that refuses to fall in love. Ryan begins a campaign to win her reluctant heart, one night at a time.



Flirting with the Camera – Ros Clarke

Brilliant, beautiful and bigger than your average plus-size model, Hattie Bell can do anything she sets her mind to. After all, she’s just landed her dream job, modelling for top photographer, Tom Metcalfe. So her next goal should be a piece of cake: getting Tom to break his strict rule against workplace romances…



No Restraints – Lilly Cain

Bad girl Selene Carter will do anything to save her business, even team up with the cop who stole her heart. But can Detective Tom Barker help when he knows she’s no innocent?



Pleasing Sir – Delilah Devlin

Raelie might be a submissive in search of just the right Dom, but she’s not the kind to sit back and wait for the right man to happen. When she gets the chance to fill in as Bryce Caldwell’s executive assistant, she decides some subtle seduction is needed to see if he dominates the bedroom the same way he does the office.

Shadowboxer – Cari Quinn

She’s in for the fight of her life…with the man who only wants to be her lover.

Putting the ‘mmmm’ into Monsieur

Marriage is just a piece of paper.

Love demands a piece of his heart.

“Ros’s sexy French soccer player can flash his tattoos at me any time. A fun and sexy read!” Laura Florand, International bestselling author

“Funny, clever and sexy: Ros Clarke delivers.” Kelly Hunter, USA Today bestselling author

It’s the release day for An Unsuitable Husband and that means you finally get to meet the French footballer I’ve been drooling over for the past twelve months. Emile is all tattoos, muscles, and – though you can’t really tell this from the picture – sexy grins. He’s fun and funny, he’s laidback except when it comes to his game, he’s confident and charming and I defy you not to fall for him. Theresa couldn’t help it, despite all her best intentions and her natural reluctance to get emotionally involved. She’s the perfect foil for Emile, ambitious, independent, totally career-focussed. She needs him to help her to relax and remember to eat lunch. He needs her to help him see that life is about more than football.

No, it is, honestly.

Check out the early reviews here. This one helpfully lists the reasons why you should read the book:

Thanks, Nicola! I couldn’t have put it better myself.

Whether you’re as football-obsessed as Emile, or like Theresa, you think it’s just ‘twenty-two men kicking a ball about as if it mattered’, you’ll find plenty to enjoy in An Unsuitable Husband. It’s funny, sexy and clever and even better, it’s on sale now at a special release bargain price of 99c.

Buy early! Buy cheap! Buy here:

Amazon US | Amazon UK | B&N | iTunes | Kobo | Google | All Romance

Oh, I almost forgot! There’s a blog tour and a giveaway and all sorts of exciting things, starting here and here. I’m giving away a $25 Amazon giftcard and Avery Flynn’s giving away a pendant and a t-shirt. Check out Avery’s new release, Betting the Billionaire.

An Unsuitable Husband

Theresa Chartley has no time for marriage, and no room for disappointment–especially with French soccer player Emile Renaud. Sure, he’s gorgeous, but he’s wrong for a career woman like Theresa. If only her mother would stop pressuring her to get married and let her live her own life. Finding a very unsuitable husband to shock her parents into silence and put an end to the marriage campaign is the only answer. Emile will do just fine.

Theresa’s outrageous proposal is the answer to Emile’s problem. They’re complete opposites living in different worlds, but a fake marriage will let him ditch his clingy ex once and for all. Then he’ll be free of commitment and free to live his life the way he wants to.

A contract. Twelve months. And they walk away scot-free. But a year of marriage tests them both in unimaginable ways. Maybe Emile isn’t unsuitable after all, but how can Theresa let herself love him when she signed a contract to let him go?

An Unsuitable Husband is a 50,000 word category romance novel.

Excerpt

The heavy thud of the beat blocked out all other rhythms. Every thought, every breath, every heartbeat drummed in time with the music. Theresa Chartley set her drink down and threaded her way through the crowds to the middle of the dance floor. Bodies on all sides formed a tiny cocoon, sheltering her as she gave herself over to the beat. The strong, deep pulse soothed her like nothing else could, giving her mind time to rest and the stresses in her subconscious a chance to seep away while she moved instinctively. In the music, she could be fully in the moment and it was bliss.

Half an hour later, she made her way back to the table and grabbed her bottle of water. She scanned the dark room to check on the friend she had come with. Julie’s distinctive white-blonde hair was easy to spot through the mass of people on the floor. Theresa watched her friend wrap herself around a guy so that their two bodies moved together perfectly. Briefly, Julie raised her head and caught Theresa’s eye. She winked. No rescue required there.

Theresa hadn’t come to the club to meet a guy. She’d come to forget about meeting guys. She’d called Julie on the way home from her parents’ house and arranged an evening designed to block out her mother’s latest insane plans. Melanie Chartley’s mission in life was to see her daughter married. She wanted the village church in June, decked with pink roses and white lilacs. She wanted Theresa in an ivory silk gown and all the men in top hats and tails. Mostly, Theresa suspected, she wanted a reason to boast to all her friends. For years, Melanie had dropped hints, subtle and not so subtle, but since Theresa’s thirtieth birthday, she’d stepped up the pressure and now she’d decided to take action. Next weekend, Theresa was expected to visit her mother so she could meet Hetta Black’s son.

“He’s a few years older than you, darling,” Melanie had told her over the phone, “but still very handsome. And you mustn’t mind about the children. They’re away at boarding school most of the time.”

“Children?” she’d repeated in horror.

“Oh, didn’t I say? He’s a widower, poor thing. But he’s been very brave about it, and now the children are old enough, he’s looking for someone new.”

“He won’t be looking for someone like me.”

“Don’t be silly, dear. You can be quite pretty when you make the effort.”

Theresa had closed her eyes and counted to three. “I meant that he won’t want a wife with a career like mine. I frequently work fourteen hour days, and I don’t have time for shopping, cooking, or chasing around after teenage children.” She didn’t have the energy to invest in that sort of relationship, either, but that was beyond her mother’s ability to comprehend. Short, self-contained flings with minimal emotional involvement suited Theresa best. Messy, complicated long-term commitments scared the hell out of her, especially the kind that came with a ring and a legally-binding promise.

“Well, naturally you wouldn’t continue with your job when you’re married.”

She’d hung up. There was no chance of convincing her mother and no point having the familiar argument all over again.

She’d call later in the week and make sure lunch was cancelled. And pray that Timothy Black found someone more suitable very soon.

But here in the club tonight, there was no reason to think about her mother and her suitable widowers. No need to think about anything. Just feel the music. Just feel the moment. She swayed her hips, letting the rhythm of the beat sink into her until she could feel it pulsing through her veins. She threw her head back, closed her eyes, and let herself dance as though no one was watching.

It took her a while to notice the guy. He was behind her, but he was matching his moves to hers. She could feel his breath in warm, soft ripples against her neck. His hips just brushed against the curve of her bottom. His shoulder occasionally bumped into hers, but when his hand slid around her waist, there was no mistaking it. No mistaking the delicious shudder of sexual attraction that shot straight through her, either. Her body knew he’d make love with the same perfect timing.

They danced for hours, her back against his chest, mirroring and matching and making love with their fully clothed bodies. Eventually, the dance floor was almost empty, but Theresa didn’t want to be the one to break their connection and she sensed he felt the same. The club was a protected bubble away from reality. As soon as they stopped moving, the magic would dissolve.

He didn’t break the rhythm when his lips brushed against her ear. “My place?”

Julie had left with her guy hours earlier. Theresa leaned back against his chest. She wasn’t in the habit of hooking up with random men in clubs. On the other hand, whoever this guy was, he wouldn’t be dragging her off to see the vicar and expecting her to say “I do” any moment now. “Why not?”

He spun her round and pulled her in so they were face-to-face for the first time. She slid her arms around his neck and pressed herself deliberately along the length of his body. His eyes gleamed for an instant and then darkened as he bent and claimed her lips.

Maybe it was the recklessness of kissing a stranger, maybe it was the hours of foreplay on the dance floor, or maybe it was just him. Whatever it was, Theresa had never experienced such a rush of desire from a simple kiss. One of his hands rested lightly against her bottom and the other curled into her short hair. She squirmed into his touch, silently urging him to stroke and explore and push her senses further out into the stratospheric levels of lust he’d already evoked. But his kiss remained steady and somehow that just made her long for more.

The cab ride was agonizing. Buckled in on opposite sides of the back seat, he stretched out his arm so his fingers rested on the nape of her neck. She didn’t dare move closer. Taxi sex was really not on her agenda, even on a reckless night like this. She just hoped he lived somewhere nearby, because the beat of the music was still throbbing in her blood, and her breath was still coming as fast as if she were dancing hard. Touching without looking had been incredibly arousing. Looking without touching was unreasonable torture.

He had dark hair, slightly longer than her mother would consider respectable, curled over his collar and flopped on his forehead. Visible stubble shadowed his strong jaw but did nothing to disguise the sensuality of his full lips and wide mouth. Hooded eyes regarded her with smoldering lust that made her breath hitch. She turned away in an attempt to take hold of herself.

“Not long now, chérie.”

She hadn’t noticed the accent in his brief, murmured words earlier. “You’re French?”

“Indeed.” He leaned lazily back against his seat but his fingers ceased to trace patterns at her neck.

“Is it true what they say about French men?”

“That depends what they say.”

God, that accent was sexy, especially when delivered in his deep, husky voice.

“That they make the most incredible…” She paused, and he raised an eyebrow at her. “…food.”

Read more:

Amazon US | Amazon UK | B&N | iTunes | Kobo | Google | All Romance

April 2014

Entangled Publishing

50,000 word category romance

The dialogue tags of Lynne Graham

So, on twitter there was a discussion about dialogue tags, and when/if it’s appropriate to use anything other than ‘said’. Willaful made the bold claim that Michelle Reid is the Queen of the Dialogue Tag and, I admit, her evidence is impressive. But I think that while Reid is a contender, there can only ever be one Queen of the Dialogue Tag, the incomparable Lynne Graham.

Readers, I adore Lynne Graham. No matter what flaws I can see in her writing (and there are plenty), I cannot help but gobble up every word. She can be funny, tender and above all, romantic. Her books are the ultimate Presents/Modern fantasies and I love them. But boy, does she have an issue with dialogue tags.

I took a relatively recent example, The Pregnancy Shock, and examined it. In chapter one, there are 44 dialogue tags. Just TWO of those are ‘said’, and in both cases they are modified by an adverb. Thirteen of the 44 tags included an adverb. One tag includes a made-up word: chokily. One tag uses a non-speech verb: incised.

By character:

Alexei (hero): drawled (2), volunteered, repeated, told, asked, incised, pressed, declared, said, derided, countered.

He did them: deadpan, with a shrug, harshly, drily, silkily and with amusement.

Billie (heroine): told, cut in, declared, said, whispered, reminded, told, asked (3), argued, answered, protested, shrieked, launched, snapped, flung.

She did them: sharply, ruefully, chokily, innocently, stiffly, in a positive rage.

Other female characters: raged, prompted, demanded, scolded, reasoned, pointed out, remarked, prompted, queried, volunteered, asked, replied.

They did them: impatiently, soothingly, firmly, wryly

Other male character: questioned, added

You are starting, I hope, to get the picture. Ms Graham likes us to know exactly how every word is intoned. In the entire book, there are just 21 uses of ‘said’ in a dialogue tag. All of them are modified by an adverb or adverbial phrase:

Billie says things: sharply (2), jerkily, gruffly, shakily (2), ruefully, valiantly, deadpan, with a determined lack of enthusiasm, awkwardly, guiltily, in surprise, wryly, uneasily, apprehensively.

Alexei says things: drily (2), very drily.

Other characters say things: with an artificial smile, cheerfully.

Some of the best dialogue tags:

“Please don’t put me in a position again where I have to escort your lady friends around while they discuss your sexual performance during the night before,” Billie framed in a tone of tremulous rage, her green eyes as bright as emeralds, her face pink and set in censorious lines.

“I don’t sleep with hookers,” Alexei cut in, his rich dark drawl harsh in reproof.

“I don’t need this, Mum,” Billie breathed tautly.

“You have a long scratch and blood on your cheekbone and I suspect you may have a black eye by morning,” Alexei enumerated in curt explanation.

“Blamed you as well, no doubt,” Alexei incised with a gritty lack of hesitation.

“But Lauren’s gone as well, driven out of her own home,” Billie condemned emotively.

“As far as I’m concerned you invaded my private life last night in a way that you had no right to do,” Billie responded brittlely (sic).

“You couldn’t care less about my good name,” Billie riposted.

“Stop trying to change the subject,” he husked.

They also: vent, pronounce, proffer, proclaim, comment, enquire, instruct, forecast, censure, opine, rasp, bite out, needle, complain, command, warn, condemn, groan, confide, concede, and carol. Willaful, I see your Michelle Reid and I raise you a Lynne Graham.

So Predictable

Another little short story from the archives. Short, sweet, romantic.

Kerry-Anna cast a practiced eye over the small heap on the conveyor belt. She didn’t need to look at the customer to know that the frozen lasagne for one, the bottle of cheap white wine and the expensive tub of cookie dough ice cream belonged to a thirty-something woman with hair all done up and make-up like the Queen. Kerry-Anna didn’t know where they’d all got this idea that they’d meet their future husbands at the checkout queue but she certainly recognised the desperate type when she saw it. Kerry-Anna wouldn’t want the kind of feller you’d find in Waitrose, anyway. She’d met her Wayne down the Roxy two Fridays ago. He knew how to show a girl a good time and it didn’t involve taking her to the supermarket.

“Thirteen pounds forty-three,” Kerry-Anna read from the screen, watching while the woman struggled to open one of the plastic bags. This one had obviously eaten too many lasagne and icecream dinners, judging by the bulge above her waistband. Her roots needed doing too. She scrabbled around in her handbag and pulled out a tatty-looking purse.

“Sorry, how much did you say?”

Kerry-Anna nodded towards the screen. “Thirteen forty-three,” she repeated slowly and elaborately, rolling her eyes.

“Oh. I… Hold on.”

Kerry-Anna sighed loudly and began to examine her fingernails. Pink with green stars. They were all right but they wouldn’t go with her orange top she wanted to wear on Saturday for Gary and Maeve’s party. They’d had some dead gorgeous yellow ones with orange sunrises on. She’d make an appointment tomorrow and surprise Wayne.

“Here.” Lasagne Lady was holding out a tenner. Kerry-Anna could see she had a pile of change in her other hand. Kerry-Anna pouted. She’d always hated maths. And that Christine who was in charge of the tills made a right fuss if they was out, even if it was only a few pence.

Kerry-Anna dumped the change on the counter. “Eleven… twelve… twelve-fifty…seventy…eighty…ninety…thirteen…twenty…five…thirty…three. You’re ten pence short,” she announced, not without a certain smug satisfaction.

“Oh, right. Um, hold on.” The woman began searching in the bottom of her handbag again.

“Let me.” Kerry-Anna looked up in surprise. The man who was waiting in line was holding out a coin towards the woman and smiling. Kerry-Anna checked. Six pack of Carling. Packet of chocolate digestives. Tin of dog food. Oh, and… Kerry-Anna’s eyebrows rose… a frozen curry. For one.

Lasagne Lady looked startled. Then Kerry-Anna watched her lips twitch into the beginnings of a smile and her cheeks turn the faintest of pink.

“It’s only ten pence,” Curry Guy pointed out, smiling back. Not bad-looking, Kerry-Anna decided, considering him critically. Old bloke, of course. At least forty, she’d say, but still fit if you liked that sort of thing. It looked like he had his own hair and all that.

“Thank you.” The woman held out her hand and he put the coin carefully onto her palm, closing her fingers tightly around it.

“You’re welcome.”

Kerry-Anna tutted loudly, holding out her own hand for the money.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Here you are.” Lasagne Lady turned a darker pink and began to pick up her carrier bag clumsily. Her eyes kept flicking back to where Curry Guy was waiting patiently for her to move out of the way.

“D’you want your receipt?” Kerry-Anna asked, holding it out to her.

“Yes, right. Thanks. And thank you,” she said again to the man.

Kerry-Anna raised her eyebrows. Couldn’t the idiot see what a fool she was making of herself? If she was really interested, why didn’t she just ask the guy out? That’s what Kerry-Anna did when she saw a bloke she fancied. She’d seen Wayne dancing with some other bird and decided she liked the way his hips rolled, so she’d just gone over and cut in. He hadn’t seemed to mind. He’d been snogging her by the end of the first song.

“My pleasure.” The poor bloke was embarrassed now. He was probably worrying that he’d got himself a stalker. She looked like she could be that type.

Kerry-Anna scanned his shopping and swiped his card. “Check the amount and put your number in.”

“There you go.”

“Your card and your receipt.”

He pushed them into his back pocket and lifted his bag. That woman was still hanging around. God, look at them both waiting for the other one to go first. He didn’t seem to know how to open his mouth and she couldn’t even walk in a straight line without running into a trolley. Unless that was the plan, ’cause he was pushing the trolley out of the way now and asking if she was okay.

Kerry-Anna had her mobile phone out and was texting Wayne. “Where r u?”

She watched the stupid woman nodding and saying she was fine. Then the guy put his hand on her elbow and turned away slightly so that Kerry-Anna couldn’t see what he was saying now.

“Wnt 2 come ovr 2nite?” she wrote.

The woman was laughing. They’d stopped right in the middle of the aisle so all the other customers were having to walk round them to get out.

“Letz gt drunk & gt laid. U up 4 it?”

She noticed the man shifting his shopping into his other hand. The woman paused, then did the same.

Wayne never held Kerry-Anna’s hand. He said that kind of thing was soft. Kerry-Anna looked at the couple, smiling nervously at each other and supposed that one day, when she was old like them, she might enjoy it too.

Another customer started unloading her basket. Kerry-Anna quickly pressed Send, then looked to see what was coming. A small bottle of Baileys, a bag of salad and a Chicken Kiev. So predictable.