On the book front: the next instalment of Secrets at St Jude’s: Jealous Girl is out on 2nd July for everyone who loved New Girl and can’t wait to find out what happens next…

Make a little room in your summer holiday suitcase for the new Annie Valentine, as How Not To Shop comes out on 13th August.

At the AK Bell Theatre in Perth, I served my first ever time on a discussion panel this month.  Is The Love Story Dead? Discuss. It was a really interesting and enjoyable evening. Great to meet writers Ewan Morrison and Sharon Blackie as well as the incredibly well-read Dorothy Macmillan, Stuart Kelly and Ajay Close. Just as soon as I’d sipped down my second Buck’s Fizz to quell those public speaking nerves, I had a great time!

I’m going on a library tour in September… more details to follow next month. Hope I can catch up with lots of readers.

The rest of June has been all about two of the Very Important Males in my life: my son and my Dad.

On the same day that my son went off on his first week-long school trip to an outward bound adventure centre thingy, my Dad went into hospital to have his hip replaced.

Oh what a lovely amount of fretting and stressing I did! Will Sam have enough socks? Eat enough fibre? Survive the abseiling lesson? Will Dad have enough books to read? Eat any hospital food? Survive the operation?!!

Good grief it was stressful. My Mum and I got through much more wine and cake than usual, I can tell you.

However, the week ended. Sam came off the bus looking tall, brown, grubby and ridiculously chirpy. He was absolutely fine – apart from a neck rash brought on by a combination of ‘slurping on midge repellent like gravy’ (his words) and not washing properly (well, he is newly 11!) And apparently abseiling – which he’d been slightly worried about – was the best fun ever.

Dad came out of hospital the following day and went home to the farm along with crutches, a raised loo-seat and various other gadgets.

He has always been the fittest, healthiest person I know. Up until two years ago he was still running (he doesn’t jog, he RUNS!) and he looks after a herd of 80 cattle, so the ever-increasing hip problem has taken some time for him to adjust to.

I have no idea how Mum is going to keep him resting for six weeks. There is already talk of how soon can he get back on his bike (his new hobby now that he can’t run!) and my Dad’s usual competitive streak  means he will want to make the fastest recovery from the operation ever!

More news next month when I get back from New York! Yes, I’ll just say that once again… when I get back from New York!!

I’ve had loads of messages about Secrets at St Jude’s: New Girl from my new teenage fans, which is very exciting. I’m really, really thrilled that you’re loving it, girls. And yes, there is another book to come next summer. I’m just putting the finishing touches to Jealous Girl right now.

Does it reveal how incredibly old and pernickety I’m getting if I add that most of those fan messages are spelled so badly it takes quite some time to work them out?!!!

On the building front, we are now into week three without a bathroom… hmmmmm… that is a bit of a challenge, to say the least. OK, we have a toilet (without a seat) and we have a teeny weeny cloakroom sink which is just about big enough to brush your teeth in, but altogether the experience is not very happy.

Every member of the family has been affected by this disruption in different ways. I’m in the worst mood all the time. Like PMT all month long. My husband has grown wild: bearded, wearing his anorak indoors, acting like a UN peace envoy between angry wife and builders. My daughter is upset about her dusty hair, dusty clothes and dusty shoes (which we have to polish every morning). My son has developed an acute anxiety about Jimmy, our dog, running away because the builders keep leaving the door open.

Time for me to take calming breaths and repeat once again, it will be over, very, very soon.

This week I have not just one, but two new books out. For a start, this has meant answering the door to the florist burdened with an enormous bunch of flowers from my publishers, not just once, daaaahlings, but twice!

Two bouquets on different days! How diva-ish is that?! I feel as if I should be reclining in a pink ball gown eating chocolates to do my flowers full justice.

But as always, real life gets in the way and I actually spent one publication morning rushing to the doctor’s with Sam because he’s had a strangely sore tummy for several days. Although the word appendicitis was flashing in my mind, our very nice GP assured us that it almost certainly wasn’t and now in my handbag I have a plastic sample bottle with a little plastic spoon attached to the lid. I think all the Mummies reading this know what that’s going to involve. Oh joy.

No, in fact there was some lounging on a velvet sofa in a pink dress for a photo shoot with The Sunday Times Scotland. We did the pictures in this highly glamorous boutique called Cruise and it just seemed rude not to try their beautiful clothes on.

So before you could say Prada, I was on the couch in a clingy Vivienne Westwood frock and fantasy shoes: the only pair that could be found in my size were Dior, gold, six inch, python, peep toes. Fortunately the photo doesn’t show the hideously un-pedicured state of my feet nor the rhino hide I seem to have developed on my knees. Phew!

Anyway, it is very exciting to see piles of Late Night Shopping in so many places… Woolworths, Waterstones, Borders. I just hope YOU, my lovely, lovely readers, like it. A lot of people grew very fond of Annie as they read The Personal Shopper and I really hope you’re going to enjoy her second book of adventures just as much.

Now get out there and buy a copy or two… or three!