Yesterday was the first anniversary of this Avon blog – I can’t believe it’s been a year already! Thanks to everyone who has read and commented, and particularly to all our gorgeous authors for the fabulous books.

Yesterday was, of course, also Valentine’s Day. I am in the enviable position of having an incredible man in my life, who understands the impact of sending flowers to a woman’s office. Apart from the pretty flowers themselves and the lovely smell, I also get compliments from colleagues and am congratulated on landing myself a great bloke. There is also the odd raised eyebrow and a bit of ‘How on earth did you manage that?’

To be honest, I have no idea. I’m a pretty rubbish girlfriend. I remembered the anniversary of the Avon blog, but totally forgot my own anniversary last year. When a beautiful bouquet arrived at my desk, I was baffled. It wasn’t my birthday. It wasn’t Valentine’s. There was nothing special about that day. Perhaps they were from a particularly generous author, I mused to an audience of admiring colleagues. And then I opened the card. ‘Happy anniversary, sweetie!’ Whoops.

It’s not that I mean to be so useless. My heart is in the right place. If there was an equivalent to flowers that he would like, I would send that to him. I would make dinner, except that he’s a better cook than me and more willing to brave the supermarket. (I do make an annual lasagne which if I say so myself is pretty delicious, but that’s about it.) I’m not artsy or crafty or particularly creative – even paper airplanes are outside the range of my talents.

So if anyone has any ideas about what presents men like for Valentine’s, please let me know* (suggestions also gratefully received for birthdays and Christmas). I need all the help I can get!

Yours disgracefully,

*If your suggestion is too smutty for the comments box, feel free to write to me at