Events seem to be rather conspiring against me in the work department this week. First there was the inconvenient matter of having been turned into an anti-social, maternally dysfunctional, monosyllabic slacker by Amanda Ashby's fantastic book, then there were the two days with daughter #1 off sick from school.... and then yesterday saw the arrival of two cheery chaps from British Gas who came to drink gallons of tea, tell long, rambling anecdotes and slightly rude jokes, and dig up my kitchen floor.
It emerges that the lovely under-floor heating effect I've been enjoying so much on these cold mornings is not entirely a good thing, as we don't in fact have under-floor heating. What we have instead is leaking hot water pipes.
As a result the kitchen now looks like something from an early Tudor peasant dwelling with a bare earth floor, and while I'm a great fan of period features it's not a look I'm very thrilled with. It's got to stay like that until it's all dried out, which could take 'a while' apparently. Perhaps I should strew it with herbs and weave a rush mat or two.
Speaking of 'not very thrilled,' in the midst of all this-- and much to the amusement of the Gas Men-- the advance copies of book 2 arrived. I'm not really feeling the love for the cover, which depicts a staid-looking couple having a snog over the back of an uncomfortable sofa in a terribly smart sitting room. Since most of the action in the book takes place on a yacht I'm slightly puzzled. Oh well. It's an excellent excuse to post another picture of the lovely Alex Pettyfer, whose fallen-angel looks inspired Angelo (who of course, is older and colder, but just as beautiful...)
Here's the book. It's out in January in the UK, and at no point in it does the hero wear a beige shirt, I promise...