The publisher finally rejected my next manuscript that should have been published about now.’ ‘Here,’ she said, digging into her bag, and tossin... the manuscript at Ryan. ‘You tell me what’s wrong with it. I don’t accept what the editors told me. Fucking dipsticks if you ask me.’ ‘Don’t let mom hearing you use that Coastguard language.’ ‘What language? Oh god I did shoot my mouth off didn’t I?’ ‘I wasn’t offended.’ She giggled and then said would he read the manuscript and tell her exactly what. With some difficulty I managed to work my knickers down my legs before taking them off. “Good girl, Lucy,” said Veronica. “Now, pull your skirt down and tidy yourself up. We’ll soon be there.” Within minutes we were pulling up outside Samantha Sutton’s studio; an enormous and impressive converted farmhouse on the edge of the picturesque village of Poynton. As I got out of the car and straightened my skirt, I felt the warm air move freely around my now bare sex, which once more had been teased. More

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