Michele Gorman, author of Bella Summer Takes a Chance says: I once made a Valentine’s Day dinner for my boyfriend and in the midst of preparing a giant full-of-everything salad, realised that I’d lost the Band-Aid off my finger. I had a moral dilemma after searching for it to no avail (fans of Single in the City will remember this story, although Hannah was more honest than me). I kept quiet and hoped for the best. After about three forkfuls my boyfriend spit out a Band-Aid. I did what any sensible girl would do. I blamed the packaged lettuce. Unfortunately my blush gave me away. I think we ate crackers and cheese for the rest of the meal.
(Michele's books are also available here on Amazon.com)
Nicola May, author of The School Gates says: Back in the 80’s I was wearing a T-shirt dress. I got drunk, it fell down the back of the toilet and I weed on it. Resembling a sumo wrestler, I reappeared with it all tucked into my trousers. Needless to say I made a hasty unannounced exit!
(Nicola's books are also available here on Amazon.co.uk)
Julia Williams, author of The Summer Seasonsays: My twin sister and I had our first boyfriends around the same time. My mother invited them for tea, and made a kind of high tea we never ever had normally. Our two little brothers ran in and out of the lounge giggling, trying to catch us at it, and our dad gave both lads a blistering lecture about looking after his daughters. The high point (!) of the evening was when we got home and my date went to kiss me, and asked me to open my mouth so we could do tongues!! I am still blushing at the memory.
(Julia's books are also available here on Amazon.com)
Belinda Jones, author of Winter Wonderland says: I have just played through a little flicker book of horrific drunken memories I cannot bear to put in print so I will settle for this one: I once had a bit of a thing going with one of the security guards for a particular boy band I used to interview on a regular basis. (Terribly unprofessional I know but he was very persuasive.) They had just flown in to LA from Hawaii and I remember creeping out of this guy's hotel room at 3am, praying no one would see me, taking the lift down to the lobby and the doors open and there stand two of the band. Aside from the fact that I look unmistakably dishevelled in that way I was holding a pineapple. Swear to god. It was my 'carried a watermelon' moment. I never lived it down.
(Belinda's books are also available here on Amazon.com)
Dina Silver, author of Kat Fight says: If you get squeamish easily, you might want to move to the next question. This one is easy for me. Once when I was in college I was on a date with a guy and we were at his apartment watching a movie. Half way through the movie, I realized I’d gotten my period and completely stained his couch (and my jeans). I literally made him lock himself in his bedroom while I spent the remaining hour of the movie scrubbing his couch cushions with dish soap and wanting to die. Then I tied one of his sweatshirts around my waist and made him take me home. Awful.
(Dina's books are also available here on Amazon.com)
Talli Roland, author of The Pollyanna Plansays: I’d just met a wonderfully handsome man at one of Ottawa’s biggest events of the year, a charity ball. As it dawned on me that the spinning sensation in my head wasn’t down to all the pheromones but rather the cheap wine I’d swigged earlier, I knew the time had come for me to depart while my dignity was still (sort of) intact. When he said we could share a cab, I agreed, keen to spend more time together. However, once the cab started moving, so did my stomach contents… right onto his lap. Although he did ask me out again (!!), somehow our relationship just never flourished.
(Talli's books are also available here on Amazon.co.uk)
Ellie Campbell, author of When Good Friends Go Bad says: This was when I was about nineteen. I met a guy at a disco and agreed to go out with him – a rare event. He picked me up in platform shoes and tight polyester flares, took me to a pub and promptly started a fight with the next guy over, accusing him of staring at me. Everyone went outside to watch the scuffle while I stayed at the bar, mortified. I felt worse when I heard everyone discussing how these two blokes were fighting over some ‘tart’ and ‘scrubber’ and then all eyes went to me – clearly the tart in question. When he came back in, manly and triumphant, I made him take me straight home and never saw him again.
(Ellie's books are also available here on Amazon.com)
Lindsey Kelk, author of The Single Girl's To-Do List says: On my first date with the Man City fan, we went on an epic trek all over Brooklyn, early morning rendezvous at the Botanic Gardens to see the Cherry Blossom festival, brunch at Tom's, hanging out on the beach and finally, funfair rides at Coney Island. All well and good until he nearly threw up on the Cyclone (but he didn't)! Success! The date went perfectly! Until we both realised that I had suffered third degree burns to my cheeks, nose and shoulders from the crazy hot May sunshine. Sunstroke does not equal a good first date... luckily, despite my babbling, wailing and vampire-like darting between shadows, he did agree to see me again. After I'd stopped peeling.
(Lindsey's books are also available here on Amazon.com)
Rowan Coleman, author of Dearest Rose says: Bra strap snappage. It was a quite nice dinner date, with a quite nice boy, but half way through dinner, the strap just pinged off. And I felt the inexorable slide of one bosom as gravity began to take hold until I became decidedly lopsided. By dessert I looked like a Picasso. I told him I felt sick, and got a cab home.
(Rowan's books are also available here on Amazon.com)
(Alexandra's books are also available here on Amazon.com)
Juliette Sobanet, author of Kissed in Paris says: It was two days before Christmas, and my husband (boyfriend at the time) surprised me by taking me to New York City and proposing under the pouring rain in front of the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center. Afterward, we met some of our closest friends out to celebrate. Everyone was buying us drinks left and right (this was totally their fault), and before I knew it, I’d crossed my two drink limit. That night, we stayed in a hotel room with a gorgeous view of the city . . . but I spent the entire night (and the next day) getting more acquainted with the porcelain toilet in the hotel bathroom than with my new fiancé. Ugh.
(Juliette's books are also available here on Amazon.co.uk)
Karen Swan, author of The Perfect Present says: Oh god it was the pig farmer again. It was our first date after we’d met at a hunt ball and he had taken me for dinner. Everything had gone well but as I was getting into the taxi, I went to kiss him on the cheek. Unfortunately he had other ideas and proceeded to kiss me with a technique that suggested he’d practised on his pigs. This awful stunned silence followed as we realized whatever attraction there was between us, the chemistry just didn’t work physically!
(Karen's books are also available here on Amazon.com)
Miranda Dickinson, author of When I Fall In Love says: I had a massive nosebleed and had to run home mortified, covered in blood (I was 16).
(Miranda's books are also available here on Amazon.com)
Care to share? What's the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to you on a date?