Last week it was the launch party for TARNISHED, held at Brighton Waterstones. Despite the strange, heavy April snowstorm that kicked off at about the same time as the launch, it was a great night. Loads of people turned up and enjoyed wine generously supplied by my publishers Headline, and amazing mozzarella, parmesan, parma ham and various salume provided, as ever, by my sis-in-law’s company the Ham & Cheese Co.

A book launch is a marvellous thing for the author. As I have mentioned before, it’s like a wedding, but without the inconvenience of a groom (although I’m happy to say OldMan was wonderfully in attendance). And you get to give a speech, something that terrified me back at the CUCKOO launch, but which I find a little easier these days – I managed to read without my knees knocking, and give a speech without feeling terribly sick with nerves. And the frock helped – a Dolce Gabbana Sicilian widow affair, but rather more affordably produced by Karen Millen.

But what didn’t help was the shoes. But they were discarded before the end of the evening, to be replaced by flatties. How do women who wear heels all day do it? Then it was a couple of cabs full of mates back to our place for an after party.

Sorry, neighbours.

So I’ve just realised I’ve written about the food, the drink, the frock, the shoes, the weather, the speech and the late night revels. But I’ve not said a word about the book.

So here goes:

Thanks, TARNISHED, for providing a great excuse for a party.


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