Bride Without a Groom by Amy Lynch

Harper Collins debut!

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!

SKU: B00V2VXACG Category: Romance Tags: Amy Lynch, Harper Collins

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About the author:

I’m an Irish author, just signed to Harper Collins. Writing comes easily to me, and is something I enjoy. It is something I find time for in a busy working-mum day. As the old phrase goes, “find a job you love, and you’ll never work again.” For me that job is writing, and although it takes up a lot of my time, it doesn’t feel like work.

What inspired you to write your book?

Rebecca has such a strong personality and a very loud voice – writing her stories comes easily to me. She whispers funny ideas at midnight when I’m falling asleep, and I jot them down with a pen and pad on my bedside locker, because she won’t simmer down until I do. In between laundry piles, school runs and a full day in the office, I find time for writing before collapsing into bed. Sometimes I wonder if Rebecca lives inside my brain, dictating the manuscript to me, and I am just her exhausted typist. To me, it is as if she is a real person.

Here is a short sample from the book:

This is it. I can feel it. Four years of waiting for my beloved 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.