It’s normal for your washing machine to get more action than you, right? I wake up, bleary-eyed. It’s been two years, six months and three hours since I last shaved my legs, and the llama-patterned knickers I’m wearing have seen better days. We have seven minutes before the kids wake up, and my husband shuffles closer. ‘Ouch,’ he says, a piece of Lego sticking into his back. Then, a light comes on in the landing. Small footsteps creep down the stairs. A little voice screams, ‘IS SOMEONE COMING TO MAKE BREAKFAST?!’ All hopes of having some ‘alone time’ is replaced with wondering if we’ve run out of Cheerios, thinking about the overflowing laundry, and remembering that I forgot to take out the recycling. Again. Just a typical Monday morning for the Morton family… Except today, when I go downstairs in my dressing gown, I find something. Something belonging to my husband. Something that definitely wasn’t mentioned in the wedding vows. And it’s either going to make us… or break us. An utterly hilarious and unmissable novel for anyone who has ever felt like they spend more time washing the dishes than getting lucky. Fans of Why Mummy Drinks and The Unmumsy Mum, and rom-coms by Sophie Ranald and Sophie Kinsella, will ugly laugh at this gloriously funny and relatable read.

My sisters call my ex-husband Satan. That tells you everything you need to know about him. I thought I was sorted on the life front. I was a heart surgeon with a loving partner and two gorgeous little girls. Except my husband’s version of ‘loving’ is lying, cheating and sleeping his way around London. Which means I definitely deserve a refund. Unfortunately, moving on isn’t that simple. Just because I know how to operate on a heart doesn’t mean I know how to fix my broken one. Plus, I lost the receipt for him years ago so I’m definitely getting short changed. But now I’m single, am I ready to mingle? There are a few minor issues: 1) The last time I went on a date double denim was in fashion and my eyebrows were horrendously overplucked. 2) Men wear stupidly skinny jeans now. 3) I don’t know how to use dating apps but at least I don’t have to get changed out of my pyjamas. 4) Sometimes the most promising thing you have in common with a guy is a shared love of prawns. 5) I don’t know whether to open a date with ‘hi’ or ‘hello’ or ‘hey’ and once I ended up saying ‘howdy’. Everything happens for a reason, they say. There’s plenty more fish in the sea. But what happens when everything falls apart and you haven’t got a clue how to go fishing? An absolutely hilarious and utterly relatable tale for anyone who has ever survived a nightmare relationship, felt a little lonely or nursed a broken heart with wine and carbs. This feel-good novel will get you back on your feet and genuinely laughing out loud. Perfect for fans of Why Mummy Drinks, Sophie Ranald and Sophie Kinsella.

It’s normal to wish that your baby came with a snooze button, right? When I got pregnant, Will and I didn’t have a clue what we were signing up for. It turns out that there’s loads we weren’t warned about: 1) In the middle of the night you’ll be begging Siri for advice on getting your baby to sleep. (In case you’re wondering, whale music doesn’t work.) 2) If you make the mistake of going to a nightclub you’ll nod off, drool, and be woken up by an angry bouncer. 3) You’ll spend more time spooning your child’s cuddly donkey than your own boyfriend. 4) Communication with your other half will be via post-it notes on the fridge, mainly telling him to buy more milk. 5) Sex is something that happened in another dimension. But even if I feel like I’m waiting for my motherhood powers to come in the post, at least I’ve got Will. Our old life – festivals, sambuca shots, an actual sex life – might be a distant memory, but we can get through anything together, can’t we? At least that’s what I thought until, one day, Will walked out on us… If I’m on my own (apart from Siri, obviously) can I do this whole parenting thing? Or I am destined to lose my sanity one sleepless night at a time?

Are you suffering from a broken heart? Searching for the right medicine? Staring down the barrel of being single and not knowing where to start? Learn from Grace Callaghan! She’s done it all: Wine is the answer. Some serving-size suggestions include: a glass the size of your head, a bathtub, an Olympic-sized swimming pool. Best served chilled, and with a straw. Friends with benefits is always an option. Be prepared for side effects such as the guy saying ‘baby’, crying out his ex’s name and preferring to keep his socks on. Going ‘out out’ helps banish the blues. It may involve breaking into replica ships from the fifteenth century, screaming ‘Aye-aye, Captain!’ and accidentally falling off the plank. Karaoke makes everything better. Best enjoyed singing Enrique Iglesias, followed by an extra-large serving of fries. Three years ago, when Grace’s heart was blown to smithereens, she made a promise to protect herself. But has she gone too far? Has she played it too safe? Should she take a leap into the unknown, messy business of the heart? Because maybe, just maybe, she could learn to love again… This hilarious and totally gripping tale is for anyone who’s questioned their qualifications at life, and learned that a little bit of wine goes a long way! Fans of Shari Low, Sophie Kinsella and Why Mummy Drinks, be warned: prepare for odd looks when reading this in public due to the ugly laughing it induces.

You think you’ve got it bad? I lost my memory, I’m so single I’ve basically got an allergy to men, and my own cat despises me. ‘Lucy! If you can hear me, squeeze my hand!’ That’s the first thing I hear when I wake up in hospital. Then my sister drops a bombshell: I’ve been in a coma. It gets worse. In my head, it’s 2009 and I’m seventeen. Somehow, I need to remember the last decade… Plan A: Track down my exes. Highlights include a one-night stand with someone in a Batman costume, and balcony sex that gave the neighbours a nervous breakdown. Plan B: Get flirty. Lowlights include a fling with someone hairier than a yeti. Plan C: Figure out why I have more exes than underwear. Am I allergic to men? As I piece together my past, I find a mysterious note: Oscar, 9th February. Determined to work out what it means, I uncover a secret I’ve been hiding from everyone. When the truth comes out, will my memory return? Will I get my life back? And will I ever find the cure to my singledom? You’ll laugh so much your abs ache! The perfect page-turner for fans of Sophie Kinsella, Lindsey Kelk and TV shows like Schitt’s Creek.