Author: Amy Lynch
Published: 7th May 2015
Publisher: Maze
Today I am thrilled to be part of the blog tour for Bride Without A Groom by Amy Lynch. I have a brilliant extract to share with you all. All the other stops on the tour are listed below, so please do check back on their blogs for some other great content.
EXTRACT
Prologue
This is it. I can feel it. Four years of waiting for Barry to pop the
question.
Four years of hinting. Four years of dreaming and praying and wishing.
Tonight’s the night.
He has chosen the perfect evening for it. You’ve got to give the
man credit where credit is due. I mean, surprising me with an engagement
ring on my thirtieth birthday in Jacques restaurant? It’s elegant class.
I
couldn’t have scripted it better.
I spied the velvet box last week, accidentally stumbling upon it
when I was innocently vacuuming under the mattress. I’d already gone
through his wardrobe and chest of drawers with a feather duster and
rummaged through his bedside locker with a wet cloth. OK, OK, you’ve
got me. I don’t dust. I don’t vacuum. I don’t wipe sticky things clean
with
wet cloths. Yuk! I admit it, I was snooping. But can you blame me? The
suspense was killing me.
Fumbling with the box, so close to opening it, I heard the key in
the door. Rumbled! Sneaking back later, he’d moved it. Next thing you
know, he’s booked a table at the most pretentious restaurant in town.
All
deliciously suspicious behaviour.
The night is upon us. I have taken glam to a whole new level, even
shelling out for a new posh frock, a designer one. The works! My tan is
flawless, not pasty, not orange, just perfectly in the middle. My
lipstick and
shellac nails are a deep vixen red. It’s the kind of colour that says
“Yes, I’ll
marry you. And I’ll rip you apart in bed later.”
Barry is driving so that I can have a drink when we get there. Super
sweet! He probably wants to keep a clear head. You know, for the
proposal
and all. I close my eyes. I love Barry so much I could explode.
“Now, I just got you something small for your birthday. Give it to
you later.”
He plays a good game, I’ll give him that. He is throwing me off the
scent.
Yeah, right! Something small, is it? I love the whole fake out. So
devious of him!
“Of course,” I wink at him. He doesn’t wink back.“Sure, the best
things come in small packages, eh?” I wink again.
He glances sideways
with a confused look on his face.
“Yeah, I suppose so.”
Oh, this is great! Bless him. He really thinks he has me fooled! Of
course, to spare his manhood, I will naturally act all, like, shock
horror
when he produces the bling ring. The poor man is probably sweating
buckets. It must be so much pressure to ask someone to marry you.
Especially someone as hot as me!
He is concentrating hard on the road, probably practising his
romantic speech. Perhaps he is considering whether he should go down on
bended knee or not. Maybe he’s worried he’ll cry when I say yes. I send
him
a telepathic message.
Bended knee, yes! Declaration of love, yes! Tears, no!
The man needs his dignity, after all.
“You’re quiet,” he breaks my fantasy.
I’m thinking about my supersized reaction and visualising the
smattering of applause from the waiters.
“Just thinking how lucky I am. You know – being whisked out for
my birthday, and all. Special night, eh?”
“Absolutely. You only turn thirty once, right?”
Don’t remind me. At least I will have reached the goal I set when I
was twelve to be engaged by the time I am thirty. I have no intention of
failing. I will have scraped to the finish line by the elastic of my
knickers. If
he pops the question before midnight, I will be on target.
Barry opens the car door for me. Such a gent! The waiter shows us
to our table. I am grinning so much that I have a pain in my jaw. It
doesn’t
matter. I want to mentally record the whole evening.
“This is magical. Don’t you think it’s magical?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Champagne?” I suggest to Barry as the waiter approaches with
our menus.
“Eh… Sure, order whatever you like. I’ll have a coke.”
Sweet! He’s dedicated to remaining sober and clear headed so that
he doesn’t muddle his words. He’s probably overwrought with emotion at
this very moment.
“Jesus, I’m bloody starving,” Barry is looking around for his starter.
I will have to edit out his impatience when I regale our freckle-faced-
pig-tailed grand kiddies with tales of the story book evening. “Tell me
again, granny, about the night granddad proposed,” the little ones will
plead
as I sip my G and T.
A Bride Without a Groom is out now!
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