K L Crear

K. L. Crear is a teenager trapped in the body of a much older woman (she’s still in denial). After decades spent in the grey-suited world of banking, the Civil Service, and property management, she somehow found herself bankrupt, baffled, but never bitter.

Armed with an often inappropriate sense of humour and a well-timed expletive, she has survived two rounds with the Big C, countless sticky situations, and every *Real Housewives* franchise (purely for research, of course).

After years of procrastination—and a gentle shove from Father Time—she finally swapped a pint of pinot for a pen. She now writes laugh-out-loud women’s fiction, with a couple of memoirs under her belt too.

She dreams of owning a permanently cheerful axolotl but recently declined the chance to hug a sloth (because clinging to a tree while peeing on yourself is not aspirational).

A proud Yorkshire lass now living in a quiet corner of the Northeast, she shares her home with her endlessly patient, slightly deaf husband and their rescue cat, Pickle—who has a resting bitch face to rival any Real Housewife.

K. L. Crear donates a portion of book sales to charities close to her heart, including Women’s Aid, Great Ormond Street Children’s Hospital, Epilepsy Society, and Macmillan Cancer Support.