But he had a point. Food isn’t just about food. It’s about sitting close and sharing, it’s about the laughter or confided problems that result from eating together. I grew up in a family unit that loved pizza and now have my own unit that is just as smitten – although to my disbelief it took quite a few years for youngest to get with the programme! I can still remember the first time my mother curiously brought a ready-made one home from the supermarket, in the 70s. Convenience foods were just taking off in Britain. We were all immediately hooked even though the simple ones produced for the British market, back then, tasted nothing like the real thing.

I was lucky enough to travel widely as a child and have warm memories of sitting outside European pizzerias in the dark, breathing in the aroma of oregano and tomato and watching chefs spin dough in the air. It all seemed very grown-up and exotic and I realised the ones we’d been eating back home were pale copies of the authentic thing. In 1980 we went to Florida – American burger and pizza restaurants still hadn’t taken off massively in the UK. We went to a well-known pizza chain and our eyes were on stalks at the size of the deep pan pizza we ordered.

Of course, over the years, takeaway and eat-out pizzas have become more sophisticated, offering toppings such as spinach or goat’s cheese. And these days we are well aware that we need to be making healthy choices. But I’m a firm believer in everything in moderation – exclude a food item and you’ll only crave it. Plus restaurants are adapting and one chain serves a light version with the middle cut out and filled with rocket.

One of the best pizzerias I have ever visited is in the South of France. Half way through the evening the chef started spinning dough bases in the air. Then to our surprise he threw them across the restaurant, like frisbees, for guests to catch and throw back! Many ended up stuck to the ceiling like badly tossed pancakes.

Pizza has been at the centre of many happy family moments. When we were living together, before getting married, my husband and I ran around 20 miles a week. We could eat what we wanted and at the time that meant four different takeaways a week. I have fond memories of getting  home after a long run, showering and sitting devouring a large pizza together.

It’s a good reliable if guests turn up unexpectedly or someone’s not feeling well enough to cook. There’s no washing up afterwards and to contribute to your five-a-day you can get vegetables added on top. It’s the perfect good times treat that can easily be shared when getting together with family, friends and colleagues and it’s that warm sentiment that inspired One Summer in Rome‘s setting.

Pizza – the smell, the texture, the taste – is satisfying, convivial comfort food at its best and the perfect ingredient for a feel-good romance.

The story was inspired by my trip to Italy last year. Rome is so beautiful, as you can see from this photo…

…and as for the food! Is it any wonder the book is set in a family-run pizzeria?!

One memorable evening we ate a meal in Piazza Navona, where One Summer in Rome is set. The waiter was not impressed by how quickly we ate and wanted to order the following course. He said “Piano! Piano!”  – slowly!

I ordered a selection plate of puddings for dessert, expecting them to be three small slices. They were actually huge (bigger than they look in this photo) and I couldn’t stop laughing.

Below is the blurb. I’m very excited about sharing this story which will be out on 9th May 2018!

To Rome…with love?

Mary Smith is turning her very ordinary life upside-down! She’s bought herself a one-way ticket to Rome and is ready for a summer she’ll never forget.

Men might be off the cards for waitress Mary, but within hours of arriving at the utterly charming family-run La Dolce Vita pizzeria, she’s already fallen in love with the bustling capital!

Only Dante Rossi, the mysterious (and drop-dead gorgeous) chef seems displeased with her arrival. And in the heat of the kitchen, it doesn’t take long for long-buried secrets to surface and sparks to fly…

A deliciously heartwarming romance to have you dreaming of summer. Perfect for fans of Debbie Johnson and Caroline Roberts.

PREORDER NOW!

For me…

Firstly, I think it is the rugged nature of the landscape. Unlike other British seaside resorts, such as Bournemouth or Southport. There is an air of danger, with the unruly cliffsides and weather. It has such a thrusting, jagged coastline. And I think this lends itself to my idea of the people – more specifically the men – who might live there. Rugged themselves. Outdoor types. A touch of the wilderness about them. Nature-lovers.  Hmm – just the perfect material for a passionate and romantic hero you might want to get down and dirty with. Ahem!

Secondly – in contrast to my first point, I think it is the “cosy factor”. The image I have in my head of afternoon tea shops. Scones. Jam. Cornish pasties. Fish and chips. Comforting food and drink like mead or scrumpy. Whereas other seaside resorts fill my mind more with images of arcades and kiss-me-quick hats. Cornwall has retained a strong sense of authenticity and makes me think of beautiful sunsets and views of seals. A British coastline at its best.

Thirdly, with the strong accent and its position in the far South-west, Cornwall almost feels like a separate part of England. This gives it a little bit of the exotic. Ironic for me, because, Cornwall, whilst it is mild, often attracts the heaviest and most frequent downpours and when I was seven it rained constantly during our summer holiday there – we never holidayed in Great Britain again!

Finally, its history. Tales of pirates and smuggling. Castles and more castles. This gives Cornwall an aura of being a place where you can still life live in the raw, without the sophistication of modern technology and rules and regulations. A place where you can have an adventure and might meet a lover who takes you totally by surprise. It certainly takes the life of my new book’s heroine in a new direction.

So if you fancy a moving, romantic read set in this beautiful corner of the world, why not preorder Breakfast under a Cornish Sun Kate Golightly has two weeks to find the Poldark look-alike of her dreams. Will she succeed? How does Cornwall surprise her? Find out this summer!

I can’t believe that at the grand old age of, ahem, 21 *innocent face* I have just spent my first weekend ever in a spa. Wow. Again please. I’d put that experience on repeat, if the universe allowed me. I haven’t felt so relaxed in months.

We bought a package which included a night in the hotel, dinner and breakfast,  two treatments, plus unlimited use of the pool. After a great meal and chat on the Friday night, I eventually rolled into bed around 1am – after some fun with the pillows that we wanted to take home (sadly, they were too big to smuggle into my overnight bag).

Following a refreshing breakfast of fruit, yogurt and cereal, I headed for my first treatment – a massage. Again a first for me. Admittedly, I was a little wary on entering the dimly lit room with background music playing. I was told to strip to my waist and did this at lightening speed, so as to be lying face down on the bed before the masseuse returned!

Then ooh. Aah. Nice. Oil everywhere. Hands sliding up and down my back and down my arms. It was quite disorientating. I thought the masseuse was standing by my legs, but eventually worked out she was in front of my head and pushing her hands downwards.

It was the most relaxing thirty minutes I’ve had since signing my publishing deal in 2013 and I hope friends and family of mine are reading this because: VOUCHERS PLEASE FOR CHRISTMAS AND BIRTHDAYS HEREON!

A manicure followed. I chose deep purple (the colour, not the music). Cue filing, polishing and a lovely chat. My short stubby nails were transformed into glamorous, plum-coloured talons.

The rest of the day (after an in-house Starbucks and lunch) was spent in the pool and jacuzzi. There was also a sauna and steam room. Fun was had with my lovely friends and daughter. I think we were all sorry to go home.

Heaven. I wish I’d lost my spa virginity a long time ago, but no matter – we’ve already agreed to do it again next year