So, as most of you may suspect, my true identity is hidden from the world-at-large. The reason, of course, is that should the world-at-large (read: those with little or no sense of humour) discover my serious daily persona actually hides a slightly deranged cake-eating chick-lit author, me and my reasonably large rear end will become too-well acquainted with a Jools'-style cardboard box in which to live. Well, okay, I probably won't get booted into a box, but certain people I come into contact with on a daily basis may be less than impressed with my schizo tendencies.
Having said all that, it is kind of nice living a double life, particularly as I get to admit to my hero worship of sugar without it affecting any stuffy board meetings. God, I hate those meetings. The ones where they lay out half-a-dozen tasty little morsels but every single woman in the room refuses one least she looks like a porker just released from a trough. Now, you'd think I would just tuck in, wouldn't you (given I have no self-control when it comes to pastries), but no, when I am not Nicky, I am serious, sensible, and even manage to keep the decibels on my stomach rumbles to a level only a dog could hear.
Luckily, I am becoming adapt at being Nicky for a good portion of the day now. Before work, lunch, after work. It's amazing how many cafes will let you linger over one cappuccino for hours. Well one coffee and four cupcakes, but you get the point.
So, that's it for Nicky now. Time to head back to tedium and statistics. I'll write again soon. But first, must really spend some time on Marrying Out of Money! Happy eating,
N.
Monday, 7 June 2010
Monday, 17 May 2010
Right, I know what you are going to say. What on earth have you been up to Nicky?
It’s been weeks and weeks since we’ve heard from you. Have you been arrested for indecent pastry consumption? Are you over in Greece rioting for the sheer sake of it? Has the volcanic ash cloud left you stranded in some far flung place where the breakfast buffet makes it impossible to leave the table and do any work?
Well, like all good procrastinators, I have a more probable list of reasons for my slack behaviour (okay, the breakfast buffet would actually be reasonably realistic), but as it turns out, I don’t need them, because the unthinkable has happened.
I have lost a good portion of the manuscript for Marrying Out of Money.
Yes, you heard right. Nicky Schmidt, person with limited attention span for the niceties of office work, has somehow allowed three months’ work to vanish into the ether of evil computing hell.
What? Didn’t I back it up? Yes, of course I did. I am not so donut-stuffed that I forgot to take out my trusty USB and do the right thing. Problem is, I didn’t reckon on both my laptop and USB mounting a challenge against sanity and wiping the file I had stupidly saved as a wps. What’s that? you ask. Who knows? I reply. And why was it a wps file? Again, can’t really say.
Don’t worry, those questions have been asked by the publisher’s IT guys more than once, and you know, I can’t really give a reason that doesn’t result in the techno geeks rolling their eyes in frustration. Silently, I know they think if I spent more time learning about back-ups and less eating pastries we wouldn’t be in this mess, but people, without the pastries, I couldn’t churn out my work. I need sugar to make the magic happen. Well, until about 5 pm, after which time I need sugar and wine.
So, there you have it. The best excuse ever. Shame that it is, in fact, true. So I am off to rewrite numerous chapters of my new book.
And consume about 40,000 calories. Who says comfort eating has no positive effects?
Stay sane until next time, even if I don’t.
X Nicky.
It’s been weeks and weeks since we’ve heard from you. Have you been arrested for indecent pastry consumption? Are you over in Greece rioting for the sheer sake of it? Has the volcanic ash cloud left you stranded in some far flung place where the breakfast buffet makes it impossible to leave the table and do any work?
Well, like all good procrastinators, I have a more probable list of reasons for my slack behaviour (okay, the breakfast buffet would actually be reasonably realistic), but as it turns out, I don’t need them, because the unthinkable has happened.
I have lost a good portion of the manuscript for Marrying Out of Money.
Yes, you heard right. Nicky Schmidt, person with limited attention span for the niceties of office work, has somehow allowed three months’ work to vanish into the ether of evil computing hell.
What? Didn’t I back it up? Yes, of course I did. I am not so donut-stuffed that I forgot to take out my trusty USB and do the right thing. Problem is, I didn’t reckon on both my laptop and USB mounting a challenge against sanity and wiping the file I had stupidly saved as a wps. What’s that? you ask. Who knows? I reply. And why was it a wps file? Again, can’t really say.
Don’t worry, those questions have been asked by the publisher’s IT guys more than once, and you know, I can’t really give a reason that doesn’t result in the techno geeks rolling their eyes in frustration. Silently, I know they think if I spent more time learning about back-ups and less eating pastries we wouldn’t be in this mess, but people, without the pastries, I couldn’t churn out my work. I need sugar to make the magic happen. Well, until about 5 pm, after which time I need sugar and wine.
So, there you have it. The best excuse ever. Shame that it is, in fact, true. So I am off to rewrite numerous chapters of my new book.
And consume about 40,000 calories. Who says comfort eating has no positive effects?
Stay sane until next time, even if I don’t.
X Nicky.
Monday, 25 January 2010
Hail readers of the Naked in Knightsbridge blog. So sorry I have been absent post-wise for the last month or so. Okay, I should have been busy writing, but the truth is I am actually quite lazy and adapt at procrastination, so over Christmas I committed to working but ended up doing nothing but socialising and eating. Now, despite the fact that I am still enjoying my daily cake fix a month later, I have now begun to work on my next book ‘Marrying out of Money’. Due to be released later this year, it is about a girl who is a little less pathetic than Jools in Naked, although I have ensured plenty of dubious character traits in other characters to keep my readers happy.
Anyway, sitting around all day eating cakes and writing is not exactly beneficial to my waistline. Whilst out shopping in my local supermarket some young guy approached me, advertising a nearby gym. He might as well have been advertising an eternity in hell with Satan and normally I try to avoid all eye contact with perky gym membership peddlers but I fell over one of my M&S foodhall bags and he was upon me.
“Do you exercise?”
“No,” I said, carefully replacing the six pack of cookies and jam and cream scones that had rolled from my stash.
“Well, maybe you should, after all, you’re a little on the tubby side, aren’t you?”
Jeez, did he expect me to agree with him? ‘Yes, I am huge, lead me to your gym.’
Instead I told him to hightail it to Satan’s parlour and leave me in peace.
“You know, pretty soon you’ll have to buy an extra seat on the plane. You don’t want that, do you?”
I was going to hit him with my M&S bags but they might have burst and that would be a waste of perfectly good food.
So, you see, we all have those days where Jool’s exploits seem so lifelike. Enough proscratination. Time to get back to working on my book.
Take care
Nicky xxx
Anyway, sitting around all day eating cakes and writing is not exactly beneficial to my waistline. Whilst out shopping in my local supermarket some young guy approached me, advertising a nearby gym. He might as well have been advertising an eternity in hell with Satan and normally I try to avoid all eye contact with perky gym membership peddlers but I fell over one of my M&S foodhall bags and he was upon me.
“Do you exercise?”
“No,” I said, carefully replacing the six pack of cookies and jam and cream scones that had rolled from my stash.
“Well, maybe you should, after all, you’re a little on the tubby side, aren’t you?”
Jeez, did he expect me to agree with him? ‘Yes, I am huge, lead me to your gym.’
Instead I told him to hightail it to Satan’s parlour and leave me in peace.
“You know, pretty soon you’ll have to buy an extra seat on the plane. You don’t want that, do you?”
I was going to hit him with my M&S bags but they might have burst and that would be a waste of perfectly good food.
So, you see, we all have those days where Jool’s exploits seem so lifelike. Enough proscratination. Time to get back to working on my book.
Take care
Nicky xxx
Tuesday, 8 December 2009
So it’s that time of year again, when my thoughts turn to buying delicious pressies for people, and over-indulging in, well, everything really.
I got to thinking, what would I give someone as a present if I was living on the street like Jools and had to be thrifty? Let’s see. My book, obviously, but I only get a few free copies and at £7.99, buying them is not an option for someone like Jools. So for my editor, free samples from the cosmetics counter at her favourite Oxford Street store would be ideal. And maybe some ‘chic’ takeaway forks from the condiments counters at the high street cafes for Gran. After all, her sight is going anyway, poor thing.
Invited to the outlaws this year for Christmas lunch - what could I possibly take on a nil budget like Jool’s? Well, Lidl is always a great option, isn’t it. A whole litre of ice-cream for £1, or so I’ve heard … That’s only a fiver for five litres. Hmmmmm. And a few rolls of bargain toilet paper is bound to be appreciated. As with cakes, you can never have enough.
And finally, for the ultimate thrifty Christmas pressies for those nearest and dearest, I would look no further than eBay. If Jools can auction herself online, surely it would be possible to find quite a few Christmassy items for girls and dudes on a budget? A quick look just now illuminated a new artificial tree for 3 quid for the partner to put up for me, some tinsel for 1p (I better check the postage), or if you are willing to splurge you can find some for 10p; and in honour of Jools, a pair of brand spanking new flip flops with the face of a Queen (not sure which one) for a mere 50p.
How can one go wrong?
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some bids to place … oh looks like I was right £8.99 postage from Hong Kong.
Merry Christmas everyone, I’ll be back blogging in the New Year.
I got to thinking, what would I give someone as a present if I was living on the street like Jools and had to be thrifty? Let’s see. My book, obviously, but I only get a few free copies and at £7.99, buying them is not an option for someone like Jools. So for my editor, free samples from the cosmetics counter at her favourite Oxford Street store would be ideal. And maybe some ‘chic’ takeaway forks from the condiments counters at the high street cafes for Gran. After all, her sight is going anyway, poor thing.
Invited to the outlaws this year for Christmas lunch - what could I possibly take on a nil budget like Jool’s? Well, Lidl is always a great option, isn’t it. A whole litre of ice-cream for £1, or so I’ve heard … That’s only a fiver for five litres. Hmmmmm. And a few rolls of bargain toilet paper is bound to be appreciated. As with cakes, you can never have enough.
And finally, for the ultimate thrifty Christmas pressies for those nearest and dearest, I would look no further than eBay. If Jools can auction herself online, surely it would be possible to find quite a few Christmassy items for girls and dudes on a budget? A quick look just now illuminated a new artificial tree for 3 quid for the partner to put up for me, some tinsel for 1p (I better check the postage), or if you are willing to splurge you can find some for 10p; and in honour of Jools, a pair of brand spanking new flip flops with the face of a Queen (not sure which one) for a mere 50p.
How can one go wrong?
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some bids to place … oh looks like I was right £8.99 postage from Hong Kong.
Merry Christmas everyone, I’ll be back blogging in the New Year.
Thursday, 3 December 2009
Greetings lovers of chick-lit and cake
You’d think that in this, my week of publication, I would be busy signing books and so on. Well, I am, but I have left time to visit some of the local haunts in and around the Royal Borough that I used for inspiration in Naked in Knightsbridge.
As cliché as it sounds, Harrods Foodhall is always my first stop when on the prowl for that tastiest of morsels – Ladurée macaroons. Indulging in the sweet things in where Jools was when Mrs Pho’s house burnt down. Despite the fact that an obsession with the fantastic French fancies is clearly bad for your waistline and wallet, I continue to snub caution with my rather large derrière and visit regularly.
Another little lovely is Hummingbird in Old Brompton Road, where the cupcakes are to die for (and considering the roadworks happening on Brompton Road, you might nearly do so as you try to avoid the buses that have been temporarily re-routed down the narrow road).
Now, if you wander away from Humingbird towards Carluccios (also a few yummy cakey-type things therein plus brilliant hot chocolates), and follow Pelham Street, you might find yourself at Ben’s Cookies. I did not discover these delights until Jools was put to bed (so to speak), but now that I have they might need to make a guest appearance in Marrying Out of Money.
But Kensington also holds it own where cupcakes are concerned. The Buttercup Cake Shop in St Alban’s Grove is a little nook crammed with heavenly yummies – it was here Jools make a couple of pitstops before visiting Mel. Mel’s flat is located just around the corner, but the best news about Buttercup is that after scoffing down a few hundred cupcakes, you can ease your guilt by drowning it at the Builder’s Arms across the road.
That’s it for now, back to signing those copies for Prospera. By the way, you get a book signed by me if you order from Prospera Publishing's website before Christmas.
As the publisher says, ‘. . .get Naked, you know you want to!’
As cliché as it sounds, Harrods Foodhall is always my first stop when on the prowl for that tastiest of morsels – Ladurée macaroons. Indulging in the sweet things in where Jools was when Mrs Pho’s house burnt down. Despite the fact that an obsession with the fantastic French fancies is clearly bad for your waistline and wallet, I continue to snub caution with my rather large derrière and visit regularly.
Another little lovely is Hummingbird in Old Brompton Road, where the cupcakes are to die for (and considering the roadworks happening on Brompton Road, you might nearly do so as you try to avoid the buses that have been temporarily re-routed down the narrow road).
Now, if you wander away from Humingbird towards Carluccios (also a few yummy cakey-type things therein plus brilliant hot chocolates), and follow Pelham Street, you might find yourself at Ben’s Cookies. I did not discover these delights until Jools was put to bed (so to speak), but now that I have they might need to make a guest appearance in Marrying Out of Money.
But Kensington also holds it own where cupcakes are concerned. The Buttercup Cake Shop in St Alban’s Grove is a little nook crammed with heavenly yummies – it was here Jools make a couple of pitstops before visiting Mel. Mel’s flat is located just around the corner, but the best news about Buttercup is that after scoffing down a few hundred cupcakes, you can ease your guilt by drowning it at the Builder’s Arms across the road.
That’s it for now, back to signing those copies for Prospera. By the way, you get a book signed by me if you order from Prospera Publishing's website before Christmas.
As the publisher says, ‘. . .get Naked, you know you want to!’
Tuesday, 24 November 2009
Naked in Knightsbridge and food
Why does everyone want to know if I have a pastry addiction like Jools. Of course I do. How else would I be so intimately acquainted with all the delectables London has to offer.
Let’s chat about food for a minute, shall we? Why should there be shame in loving it? I most certainly do. Nothing better that a visit to Laduree for macaroons. A life without macaroons is not worth living. As for Hummingbird in South Kensington … cupcakes tend to make everything alright after a hard day writing. Or during the writing. Or procrastinating about the writing and watching Homes Under the Hammer (that’s a BBC show for people overseas).
The inspiration for Jools hasn’t come from one person in particular, but at her core Jools is me. I am a slightly slobby, prone to bad decision making, and as stated above, enjoy sugar-laden treats. At least I am able to hold down a job and write, but other than that, there isn’t much in it.
The fact that Jools is overweight and gets bagged out for it has earned me some criticism, but honestly, the idea behind Jools being larger than normal was due to the fact that I dislike heroines who are a perfect , lithe and slim. Jools gets larger and still gets her man.
Let’s chat about food for a minute, shall we? Why should there be shame in loving it? I most certainly do. Nothing better that a visit to Laduree for macaroons. A life without macaroons is not worth living. As for Hummingbird in South Kensington … cupcakes tend to make everything alright after a hard day writing. Or during the writing. Or procrastinating about the writing and watching Homes Under the Hammer (that’s a BBC show for people overseas).
The inspiration for Jools hasn’t come from one person in particular, but at her core Jools is me. I am a slightly slobby, prone to bad decision making, and as stated above, enjoy sugar-laden treats. At least I am able to hold down a job and write, but other than that, there isn’t much in it.
The fact that Jools is overweight and gets bagged out for it has earned me some criticism, but honestly, the idea behind Jools being larger than normal was due to the fact that I dislike heroines who are a perfect , lithe and slim. Jools gets larger and still gets her man.
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Monday, 7 June 2010
ME, MYSELF AND NICKY
So, as most of you may suspect, my true identity is hidden from the world-at-large. The reason, of course, is that should the world-at-large (read: those with little or no sense of humour) discover my serious daily persona actually hides a slightly deranged cake-eating chick-lit author, me and my reasonably large rear end will become too-well acquainted with a Jools'-style cardboard box in which to live. Well, okay, I probably won't get booted into a box, but certain people I come into contact with on a daily basis may be less than impressed with my schizo tendencies.
Having said all that, it is kind of nice living a double life, particularly as I get to admit to my hero worship of sugar without it affecting any stuffy board meetings. God, I hate those meetings. The ones where they lay out half-a-dozen tasty little morsels but every single woman in the room refuses one least she looks like a porker just released from a trough. Now, you'd think I would just tuck in, wouldn't you (given I have no self-control when it comes to pastries), but no, when I am not Nicky, I am serious, sensible, and even manage to keep the decibels on my stomach rumbles to a level only a dog could hear.
Luckily, I am becoming adapt at being Nicky for a good portion of the day now. Before work, lunch, after work. It's amazing how many cafes will let you linger over one cappuccino for hours. Well one coffee and four cupcakes, but you get the point.
So, that's it for Nicky now. Time to head back to tedium and statistics. I'll write again soon. But first, must really spend some time on Marrying Out of Money! Happy eating,
N.
Having said all that, it is kind of nice living a double life, particularly as I get to admit to my hero worship of sugar without it affecting any stuffy board meetings. God, I hate those meetings. The ones where they lay out half-a-dozen tasty little morsels but every single woman in the room refuses one least she looks like a porker just released from a trough. Now, you'd think I would just tuck in, wouldn't you (given I have no self-control when it comes to pastries), but no, when I am not Nicky, I am serious, sensible, and even manage to keep the decibels on my stomach rumbles to a level only a dog could hear.
Luckily, I am becoming adapt at being Nicky for a good portion of the day now. Before work, lunch, after work. It's amazing how many cafes will let you linger over one cappuccino for hours. Well one coffee and four cupcakes, but you get the point.
So, that's it for Nicky now. Time to head back to tedium and statistics. I'll write again soon. But first, must really spend some time on Marrying Out of Money! Happy eating,
N.
Monday, 17 May 2010
Right, I know what you are going to say. What on earth have you been up to Nicky?
It’s been weeks and weeks since we’ve heard from you. Have you been arrested for indecent pastry consumption? Are you over in Greece rioting for the sheer sake of it? Has the volcanic ash cloud left you stranded in some far flung place where the breakfast buffet makes it impossible to leave the table and do any work?
Well, like all good procrastinators, I have a more probable list of reasons for my slack behaviour (okay, the breakfast buffet would actually be reasonably realistic), but as it turns out, I don’t need them, because the unthinkable has happened.
I have lost a good portion of the manuscript for Marrying Out of Money.
Yes, you heard right. Nicky Schmidt, person with limited attention span for the niceties of office work, has somehow allowed three months’ work to vanish into the ether of evil computing hell.
What? Didn’t I back it up? Yes, of course I did. I am not so donut-stuffed that I forgot to take out my trusty USB and do the right thing. Problem is, I didn’t reckon on both my laptop and USB mounting a challenge against sanity and wiping the file I had stupidly saved as a wps. What’s that? you ask. Who knows? I reply. And why was it a wps file? Again, can’t really say.
Don’t worry, those questions have been asked by the publisher’s IT guys more than once, and you know, I can’t really give a reason that doesn’t result in the techno geeks rolling their eyes in frustration. Silently, I know they think if I spent more time learning about back-ups and less eating pastries we wouldn’t be in this mess, but people, without the pastries, I couldn’t churn out my work. I need sugar to make the magic happen. Well, until about 5 pm, after which time I need sugar and wine.
So, there you have it. The best excuse ever. Shame that it is, in fact, true. So I am off to rewrite numerous chapters of my new book.
And consume about 40,000 calories. Who says comfort eating has no positive effects?
Stay sane until next time, even if I don’t.
X Nicky.
It’s been weeks and weeks since we’ve heard from you. Have you been arrested for indecent pastry consumption? Are you over in Greece rioting for the sheer sake of it? Has the volcanic ash cloud left you stranded in some far flung place where the breakfast buffet makes it impossible to leave the table and do any work?
Well, like all good procrastinators, I have a more probable list of reasons for my slack behaviour (okay, the breakfast buffet would actually be reasonably realistic), but as it turns out, I don’t need them, because the unthinkable has happened.
I have lost a good portion of the manuscript for Marrying Out of Money.
Yes, you heard right. Nicky Schmidt, person with limited attention span for the niceties of office work, has somehow allowed three months’ work to vanish into the ether of evil computing hell.
What? Didn’t I back it up? Yes, of course I did. I am not so donut-stuffed that I forgot to take out my trusty USB and do the right thing. Problem is, I didn’t reckon on both my laptop and USB mounting a challenge against sanity and wiping the file I had stupidly saved as a wps. What’s that? you ask. Who knows? I reply. And why was it a wps file? Again, can’t really say.
Don’t worry, those questions have been asked by the publisher’s IT guys more than once, and you know, I can’t really give a reason that doesn’t result in the techno geeks rolling their eyes in frustration. Silently, I know they think if I spent more time learning about back-ups and less eating pastries we wouldn’t be in this mess, but people, without the pastries, I couldn’t churn out my work. I need sugar to make the magic happen. Well, until about 5 pm, after which time I need sugar and wine.
So, there you have it. The best excuse ever. Shame that it is, in fact, true. So I am off to rewrite numerous chapters of my new book.
And consume about 40,000 calories. Who says comfort eating has no positive effects?
Stay sane until next time, even if I don’t.
X Nicky.
Monday, 25 January 2010
Hail readers of the Naked in Knightsbridge blog. So sorry I have been absent post-wise for the last month or so. Okay, I should have been busy writing, but the truth is I am actually quite lazy and adapt at procrastination, so over Christmas I committed to working but ended up doing nothing but socialising and eating. Now, despite the fact that I am still enjoying my daily cake fix a month later, I have now begun to work on my next book ‘Marrying out of Money’. Due to be released later this year, it is about a girl who is a little less pathetic than Jools in Naked, although I have ensured plenty of dubious character traits in other characters to keep my readers happy.
Anyway, sitting around all day eating cakes and writing is not exactly beneficial to my waistline. Whilst out shopping in my local supermarket some young guy approached me, advertising a nearby gym. He might as well have been advertising an eternity in hell with Satan and normally I try to avoid all eye contact with perky gym membership peddlers but I fell over one of my M&S foodhall bags and he was upon me.
“Do you exercise?”
“No,” I said, carefully replacing the six pack of cookies and jam and cream scones that had rolled from my stash.
“Well, maybe you should, after all, you’re a little on the tubby side, aren’t you?”
Jeez, did he expect me to agree with him? ‘Yes, I am huge, lead me to your gym.’
Instead I told him to hightail it to Satan’s parlour and leave me in peace.
“You know, pretty soon you’ll have to buy an extra seat on the plane. You don’t want that, do you?”
I was going to hit him with my M&S bags but they might have burst and that would be a waste of perfectly good food.
So, you see, we all have those days where Jool’s exploits seem so lifelike. Enough proscratination. Time to get back to working on my book.
Take care
Nicky xxx
Anyway, sitting around all day eating cakes and writing is not exactly beneficial to my waistline. Whilst out shopping in my local supermarket some young guy approached me, advertising a nearby gym. He might as well have been advertising an eternity in hell with Satan and normally I try to avoid all eye contact with perky gym membership peddlers but I fell over one of my M&S foodhall bags and he was upon me.
“Do you exercise?”
“No,” I said, carefully replacing the six pack of cookies and jam and cream scones that had rolled from my stash.
“Well, maybe you should, after all, you’re a little on the tubby side, aren’t you?”
Jeez, did he expect me to agree with him? ‘Yes, I am huge, lead me to your gym.’
Instead I told him to hightail it to Satan’s parlour and leave me in peace.
“You know, pretty soon you’ll have to buy an extra seat on the plane. You don’t want that, do you?”
I was going to hit him with my M&S bags but they might have burst and that would be a waste of perfectly good food.
So, you see, we all have those days where Jool’s exploits seem so lifelike. Enough proscratination. Time to get back to working on my book.
Take care
Nicky xxx
Tuesday, 8 December 2009
So it’s that time of year again, when my thoughts turn to buying delicious pressies for people, and over-indulging in, well, everything really.
I got to thinking, what would I give someone as a present if I was living on the street like Jools and had to be thrifty? Let’s see. My book, obviously, but I only get a few free copies and at £7.99, buying them is not an option for someone like Jools. So for my editor, free samples from the cosmetics counter at her favourite Oxford Street store would be ideal. And maybe some ‘chic’ takeaway forks from the condiments counters at the high street cafes for Gran. After all, her sight is going anyway, poor thing.
Invited to the outlaws this year for Christmas lunch - what could I possibly take on a nil budget like Jool’s? Well, Lidl is always a great option, isn’t it. A whole litre of ice-cream for £1, or so I’ve heard … That’s only a fiver for five litres. Hmmmmm. And a few rolls of bargain toilet paper is bound to be appreciated. As with cakes, you can never have enough.
And finally, for the ultimate thrifty Christmas pressies for those nearest and dearest, I would look no further than eBay. If Jools can auction herself online, surely it would be possible to find quite a few Christmassy items for girls and dudes on a budget? A quick look just now illuminated a new artificial tree for 3 quid for the partner to put up for me, some tinsel for 1p (I better check the postage), or if you are willing to splurge you can find some for 10p; and in honour of Jools, a pair of brand spanking new flip flops with the face of a Queen (not sure which one) for a mere 50p.
How can one go wrong?
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some bids to place … oh looks like I was right £8.99 postage from Hong Kong.
Merry Christmas everyone, I’ll be back blogging in the New Year.
I got to thinking, what would I give someone as a present if I was living on the street like Jools and had to be thrifty? Let’s see. My book, obviously, but I only get a few free copies and at £7.99, buying them is not an option for someone like Jools. So for my editor, free samples from the cosmetics counter at her favourite Oxford Street store would be ideal. And maybe some ‘chic’ takeaway forks from the condiments counters at the high street cafes for Gran. After all, her sight is going anyway, poor thing.
Invited to the outlaws this year for Christmas lunch - what could I possibly take on a nil budget like Jool’s? Well, Lidl is always a great option, isn’t it. A whole litre of ice-cream for £1, or so I’ve heard … That’s only a fiver for five litres. Hmmmmm. And a few rolls of bargain toilet paper is bound to be appreciated. As with cakes, you can never have enough.
And finally, for the ultimate thrifty Christmas pressies for those nearest and dearest, I would look no further than eBay. If Jools can auction herself online, surely it would be possible to find quite a few Christmassy items for girls and dudes on a budget? A quick look just now illuminated a new artificial tree for 3 quid for the partner to put up for me, some tinsel for 1p (I better check the postage), or if you are willing to splurge you can find some for 10p; and in honour of Jools, a pair of brand spanking new flip flops with the face of a Queen (not sure which one) for a mere 50p.
How can one go wrong?
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some bids to place … oh looks like I was right £8.99 postage from Hong Kong.
Merry Christmas everyone, I’ll be back blogging in the New Year.
Thursday, 3 December 2009
Greetings lovers of chick-lit and cake
You’d think that in this, my week of publication, I would be busy signing books and so on. Well, I am, but I have left time to visit some of the local haunts in and around the Royal Borough that I used for inspiration in Naked in Knightsbridge.
As cliché as it sounds, Harrods Foodhall is always my first stop when on the prowl for that tastiest of morsels – Ladurée macaroons. Indulging in the sweet things in where Jools was when Mrs Pho’s house burnt down. Despite the fact that an obsession with the fantastic French fancies is clearly bad for your waistline and wallet, I continue to snub caution with my rather large derrière and visit regularly.
Another little lovely is Hummingbird in Old Brompton Road, where the cupcakes are to die for (and considering the roadworks happening on Brompton Road, you might nearly do so as you try to avoid the buses that have been temporarily re-routed down the narrow road).
Now, if you wander away from Humingbird towards Carluccios (also a few yummy cakey-type things therein plus brilliant hot chocolates), and follow Pelham Street, you might find yourself at Ben’s Cookies. I did not discover these delights until Jools was put to bed (so to speak), but now that I have they might need to make a guest appearance in Marrying Out of Money.
But Kensington also holds it own where cupcakes are concerned. The Buttercup Cake Shop in St Alban’s Grove is a little nook crammed with heavenly yummies – it was here Jools make a couple of pitstops before visiting Mel. Mel’s flat is located just around the corner, but the best news about Buttercup is that after scoffing down a few hundred cupcakes, you can ease your guilt by drowning it at the Builder’s Arms across the road.
That’s it for now, back to signing those copies for Prospera. By the way, you get a book signed by me if you order from Prospera Publishing's website before Christmas.
As the publisher says, ‘. . .get Naked, you know you want to!’
As cliché as it sounds, Harrods Foodhall is always my first stop when on the prowl for that tastiest of morsels – Ladurée macaroons. Indulging in the sweet things in where Jools was when Mrs Pho’s house burnt down. Despite the fact that an obsession with the fantastic French fancies is clearly bad for your waistline and wallet, I continue to snub caution with my rather large derrière and visit regularly.
Another little lovely is Hummingbird in Old Brompton Road, where the cupcakes are to die for (and considering the roadworks happening on Brompton Road, you might nearly do so as you try to avoid the buses that have been temporarily re-routed down the narrow road).
Now, if you wander away from Humingbird towards Carluccios (also a few yummy cakey-type things therein plus brilliant hot chocolates), and follow Pelham Street, you might find yourself at Ben’s Cookies. I did not discover these delights until Jools was put to bed (so to speak), but now that I have they might need to make a guest appearance in Marrying Out of Money.
But Kensington also holds it own where cupcakes are concerned. The Buttercup Cake Shop in St Alban’s Grove is a little nook crammed with heavenly yummies – it was here Jools make a couple of pitstops before visiting Mel. Mel’s flat is located just around the corner, but the best news about Buttercup is that after scoffing down a few hundred cupcakes, you can ease your guilt by drowning it at the Builder’s Arms across the road.
That’s it for now, back to signing those copies for Prospera. By the way, you get a book signed by me if you order from Prospera Publishing's website before Christmas.
As the publisher says, ‘. . .get Naked, you know you want to!’
Tuesday, 24 November 2009
Naked in Knightsbridge and food
Why does everyone want to know if I have a pastry addiction like Jools. Of course I do. How else would I be so intimately acquainted with all the delectables London has to offer.
Let’s chat about food for a minute, shall we? Why should there be shame in loving it? I most certainly do. Nothing better that a visit to Laduree for macaroons. A life without macaroons is not worth living. As for Hummingbird in South Kensington … cupcakes tend to make everything alright after a hard day writing. Or during the writing. Or procrastinating about the writing and watching Homes Under the Hammer (that’s a BBC show for people overseas).
The inspiration for Jools hasn’t come from one person in particular, but at her core Jools is me. I am a slightly slobby, prone to bad decision making, and as stated above, enjoy sugar-laden treats. At least I am able to hold down a job and write, but other than that, there isn’t much in it.
The fact that Jools is overweight and gets bagged out for it has earned me some criticism, but honestly, the idea behind Jools being larger than normal was due to the fact that I dislike heroines who are a perfect , lithe and slim. Jools gets larger and still gets her man.
Let’s chat about food for a minute, shall we? Why should there be shame in loving it? I most certainly do. Nothing better that a visit to Laduree for macaroons. A life without macaroons is not worth living. As for Hummingbird in South Kensington … cupcakes tend to make everything alright after a hard day writing. Or during the writing. Or procrastinating about the writing and watching Homes Under the Hammer (that’s a BBC show for people overseas).
The inspiration for Jools hasn’t come from one person in particular, but at her core Jools is me. I am a slightly slobby, prone to bad decision making, and as stated above, enjoy sugar-laden treats. At least I am able to hold down a job and write, but other than that, there isn’t much in it.
The fact that Jools is overweight and gets bagged out for it has earned me some criticism, but honestly, the idea behind Jools being larger than normal was due to the fact that I dislike heroines who are a perfect , lithe and slim. Jools gets larger and still gets her man.
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