P.U.S.H. FOR SUCCESS. Publisher: Ebury; Author: Saira Khan; Price: £9.99.
Loudmouthed Saira Khan, the volatile firecracker who came runner-up in BBC2's The Apprentice last year, has not looked back since her determined performance made her the star of the show.
Few will forget how this supersonic saleswoman with the big voice wound up her colleagues with her pushy tactics.
Although she received regular verbal lashings from businessman Sir Alan Sugar, it seemed he had a soft spot for the 5ft 2in dynamo.
When you meet her you can understand why. She seems tiny and prettier than she appeared on the show, and her enthusiasm is infectious rather than irritating.
Although Saira, 35, lost out on the £100,000 dream job to winner Tim Campbell, she did work for Sir Alan for six months before moving on.
"The role he gave me was another sales role. I was effectively selling computers. I thought I was worth more than that. Sir Alan was, shall we say, disappointed."
Still, she says she has earned equivalent to Tim's salary in the past year through a number of media jobs, including a column in The Mirror, corporate speaking appearances and her own online business with her husband, internet consultant Steve Hide.
She's currently appearing on You're Fired, the new Apprentice spin-off show on BBC Three, and this month she begins filming her new daytime show on anger management, Temper Your Temper, which is due out in autumn.
As ever, she is in saleswoman mode today as she eagerly fills me in on her new self-help book, P.U.S.H. For Success.
"In this country people see me as being pushy. I don't think pushy's a negative thing. As a young woman you have to really push yourself to succeed. It gives you an edge over the competition."
She keeps in touch with Apprentice winner Tim Campbell, who is still working for Sir Alan.
"We have a lot in common. He's pretty laid-back and chilled out, whereas I'm pushy and feisty, but it works. He calls me his sister."
As for Sir Alan, she says: "I have an enormous amount of respect for him. I really like him because he reminds me a bit of my dad. He's very hard on the outside but on the inside he is a very responsible man who cares deeply about his family."
Saira's parents emigrated to England from war-torn Kashmir in 1965, hoping to build a better life and earn money they could send back to the family. Saira, the eldest of four children, was born in 1970 and grew up in a predominantly white area in Long Eaton, between Nottingham and Derby.
Her father, Jan Mohammed, was forced to work in lace factories because his qualifications as a doctor in Kashmir were not recognised.
He was extremely strict. She was forced to wear school uniform to a non-uniform school and as soon as she came home she'd change into the traditional salwar kameez - a long tunic and baggy trousers designed not to draw attention to a woman's physical shape.
"My childhood was quite painful at times. I really just wanted to be a part of British society.
"At home I ate different food to the meals my English friends ate and watched Bollywood films while my friends were going to the cinema.
"I would have loved to have had sausages and baked beans at home, or get my dad to go to the pub and drink cider, but that was never going to be."
If Saira or her siblings stepped out of line, her father would beat them with belts, shoes, a cane or even a wire coat hanger. He also lashed out at his wife, once giving her a black eye.
"His frustrations with his life and the injustices he had to deal with at work translated into anger and violence, and most of that was taken out on the family."
At home they only spoke Urdu and Bhari and her mother didn't speak a word of English for a long time. When she was pregnant with Saira and went into labour at home, she had to get an Asian neighbour to phone for the ambulance.
"When I was delivered and the nurses took my away to clean me up, my mum genuinely panicked because she thought I'd been kidnapped and taken away forever."
Life didn't get any easier as she grew up.
"My parents were from an arranged marriage and wanted the same for me. My mother would invite young men to the house and get me to serve them tea on a tray. I didn't fancy any of them. It was just like East Is East."
To her father, education was everything. Saira went to Brighton Polytechnic when she was 18 and later gained a Masters at Nottingham University.
"I had boyfriends at university but my parents never knew about them. I was sensitive towards my religion and culture."
Her father worked longer hours in the factory to help pay her university fees and she now realises that she was driven by the yearning for his approval. That focus disappeared when he died suddenly in 1998 of a heart attack, while visiting family in Kashmir. "I was absolutely devastated. For the first time I felt really alone."
To deal with the grief, she flung herself into work and set out to achieve more.
She met her husband, Steve, in 2002 when they both worked for United Biscuits.
"I knew instantly that Steve was the one," says Saira. "I had a mental tick list of what I wanted in a person. It was never about the looks. He was career-minded and I never wanted to be hanging around with a lazy slob. Keeping fit was a big part of his life, and mine, and he liked a hot curry. He ticked all my boxes."
The first time Steve, a Christian, met Saira's mother was to ask for Saira's hand in marriage.
"I never introduced Steve as a boyfriend. She was furious at first but she's come round. I was the first girl in my family to marry outside the culture."
They live in west London and she would love to have a big family. At 35 she is well aware that the biological clock is ticking, but talks in terms of when they have children rather than if.
And at the end of a rather exhausting conversation-filled hour, Saira doesn't pause for breath as she launches into her plans for the future - to be a successful businesswoman launching new products, influencing government on a variety of issues and making a difference. She even suggests that one day she may be Prime Minister.
"I don't want to work for anybody else," she asserts. "I'm an entrepreneur, not an apprentice."
Comments: Our rules
We want our comments to be a lively and valuable part of our community - a place where readers can debate and engage with the most important local issues. The ability to comment on our stories is a privilege, not a right, however, and that privilege may be withdrawn if it is abused or misused.
Please report any comments that break our rules.
Read the rules hereComments are closed on this article