Title - Bride without a Groom
Author - Amy Lynch
Publication Date - May 7th 2015
Publisher - Avon
Format - eBook (Provided via publisher)
Pages - 241
Single, coupled-up or married, this laugh-out-loud summer read is the perfect anecdote for the wedding season!
Rebecca has chosen the most luscious, five-tiered, wedding cake. The engagement ring that she has selected is celebrity inspired. The wedding singer is on speed dial. He doesn't usually do Michael Bolton, but as it's for a first dance he'll make an exception. Father Maguire is checking dates for the parish church as we speak. The deposit on the white sand honeymoon is paid for in full on Barry's card. She has fallen for an ivory lace couture gown that is to die for. The down payment may require her to sell a left kidney, but it will be worth it. Isn't that why you have two?
There's one teeny tiny problem. It's nothing, really. No need to panic! It's just that Barry has yet to propose. Says he's not ready! He can be a bit of a kill joy that way. It's time to face the harsh reality - Rebecca is a bride without a groom!
It’s best not to tell the girls about the wedding singer I went along to see last week, and I’m interrupted before I can launch into my thoughts on wedding scrapbooks. (Surely everybody does this? Weddings need themes!) A stocky man in a black shirt is standing over Emer. Highly annoying.
‘Just a packet of dry roasted peanuts,’ I wave my hand. I wish that he would go away before the subject is changed and I don't get to hear their opinions on church music.
‘Eh, no…’ The man is still standing there. What does he bloody want?
‘Fine. Salted, then,’ I roll my eyes.
‘Would you like a drink?’
Rudely, he’s not even asking me, the birthday girl. He’s focussed on Emer, as in the non-birthday girl!
I can't help but notice how the top button on his crisp black shirt bulges ever so slightly. It's probably because his muscles are so ridiculous. Honestly, who does that? Come to think of it, his arms are quite chunky too. You know, if you're into that sort of thing.
Before I can protest, he and his staggeringly handsome friends have joined our table and Pam's laughter has reached hysteria. Emer is, as always, demure. Pam is flirting up a storm. I decide to join in. Besides, there's a strong chance that they’ll be coughing up for the next round of drinkies and mine's going to be a large one.
Ciaran sits next to me. His enthusiasm to impress me reminds me of Milly, our beloved poodle when I was growing up. I admit to myself that he’s quite a hunk, but that might be just the Kir Royale talking. And yes, he’s paying.
He's a tad young for me, but yum nonetheless in a Colin Farrell kind of way. He has a Dublin accent, but it's not strong enough to make me think that he's going to try and steal my purse.
If it wasn’t for the excessive tanning on his rippling biceps, he might be my type. Ciaran tells me that he and his mates all work together at Go Gym, and that one of them has recently appeared on the car-crash TV show Tallaght-fornia. It's all so working class. I’m really slumming it now!
‘Really, Ciaran? Tell me more over another drink. I’ll have a Cosmo.’
I notice that Pam's skirt hemline has definitely gone up a couple of inches. She’s so shameless! She drains the last of her Screaming Orgasm, and insists that her new admirer order another one for her personally. We all titter around the table.
‘So. And are you with anyone?’ Ciaran's blue eyes penetrate mine.
I stop. Am I with anyone? Good bloody question! We've got the joint mortgage but no wedding ring. We also have our beloved fur baby cat. That has to mean something, doesn’t it? I mumble about needing the loo, and shuffle off to the ladies. In the mirror, I see a hot fluster has spread across my face. It’s a boost to my recently battered ego.
It's one o’clock in the morning, and Pam has just spotted one of her ex-flings sitting across from us. The mood has gone decidedly downhill. She gives him the evils across the bar, and Emer and I stop her from lunging over there to tell him what's what. We make a sharp exit onto the street, leaving the lads behind.
About the author
Amy Lynch is an Irish author of humorous romantic women’s fiction, but not always with fairy tale endings! She has been working in the charity sector for many years, is married and has two young children. When she is not writing, she can be found juggling school runs, packing lunch boxes, tackling the laundry mountain and walking two large rescue dogs who stare at her until she walks them. Talk about multi-tasking!
Her debut novel ‘Bride Without a Groom’ is a laugh out loud Bridezilla comedy, and
will be published by Avon, Harper Collins in May 2015. Amy has published articles in Women’s Way, TV Choice Magazine, Sunday Times, and The Irish Examiner’ Ahe is represented by literary agent, Frank Fahy.
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