Off to the RoNAs...

Tomorrow I shall be leaving my cosy existence in the wilds of North Yorkshire, for that there London, where I shall be attending the Romantic Novel of the Year Awards ceremony. Once there, I shall be running about with a big pink face, squeaking in excitement at all the very well known people there. I may even try to pee in one or two handbags.

It is a wonderful honour to be shortlisted. You knew I was shortlisted, didn't you? Well, I am. Once with

this, and once with

this. The list of other shortlisters is so esteemed that I am the only person on that list that I have never heard of and, indeed, very few people attending will have heard of me - except in the context of 'watch out for the one with the big pink face, she pees in your handbag if you don't keep an eye on her'.

So, think of me tomorrow, trying to be all polite and well behaved and everything, and trying to look acceptable in the pictures, where I must appear with normal people who look nice and are wearing lovely dresses (or not, in the case of the men) and shoes, and clapping happily at whoever wins. Because it's all about the books, you know, and the best book will most definitely win, even though I am pretty sure it won't be one of mine. It will just be lovely to see some of my friends there and have a giggle and a drink and applaud and just generally lig about.

Oh, and pee in a handbag, that's a given.

Here is the rogues gallery where you can see all the beautiful books and their beautiful authors. And me.