The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

By Limey Lady

If university term-time was fun, Angie's Christmas only gets better!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Limey Lady
• Release date: Nov 22, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370436484

Limey Lady

Here's a confession for you: I'm not sure if "Limey Lady" is a pseudonym or my alter ego. Back in 2016, when she came into being, she was definitely a nom de plume. Now, however, I am not so sure.As background, I have always written stories but, up to 2009, writing took a backseat, way behind the demands of my family and career. Then a life-changing medical condition . . . well, it changed everything for and about me. Suddenly I had/have time to spare. Suddenly I was/am churning out tale after tale.I was born in York but brought up in West Yorkshire, in part of the Aire Valley often described as "Bronte Country". I must say, though, that although most of my stories are set locally, they have little in common with the fine works of Charlotte, Emily and Anne. So far my output can be divided into two: long stories featuring ne'er-do-wells, guns and some violence . . . and shorter stories featuring "liberated" women who rarely do what they're supposed to do.Limey Lady was created to be the author of the short stuff. But the longer novels all include feisty, uncooperative females - much like her characters - so I'm going to put her name to both as I publish on Smashwords.Watch this space . . .

Book preview

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

By LimeyLady

Copyright Mark C Woolridge (writing as LimeyLady), 2017

Distributed by Smashwords

All characters and events in this publication,

other than those clearly in the public domain,

are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons,

living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Table of Contents

Author’s Note

Chapter One - Christmas preparations

Chapter Two - Joe

Chapter Three - Christmas Day

Chapter Four - Molly and Fiona

Chapter Five - Meet me by moonlight

Chapter Six - A spiteful bitch

Other Books by LimeyLady

Author’s Note: This story contains a limited amount of male/female sex, which occurs as part of the main character’s learning curve. I have tried to keep this to a minimum without actually skimping. If anyone wants to avoid reading about sex with a man, start with Chapter One but avoid Chapter Two. From Chapter Three it’s back to girl-on-girl.

And, with Angie being Angie, that means more than just one girl . . .

Chapter One

(Christmas Eve 1997)

Angie checked herself in the mirror before following Fiona out of the ladies’. She had lipstick smudges around her mouth; otherwise her makeup was okay (because she never wore any). Using a tissue to wipe away the evidence, she reckoned she’d pass any inspection she was likely to get.

Or were her cheeks a little flushed from all that unexpected exertion?

She grinned as she splashed cold water over her shaven head. Fiona always looked immaculate. She had tripped off, pretty as a picture in her short and colourful girly skirt. Hopefully her live-in girlfriend would not notice the missing lippy and wonder what she’d been up to.

With hope always springing eternal, no?

Thoroughly dried, Angie attempted a smile. Her reflection grimaced in response. She had never been great shakes at smiling. Still, she was tall, broad-shouldered and built like a man; a smile on her face wouldn’t ever seem sincere.

Not even if she really was sincere . . . for a change.

God only knew why women found her attractive. In her opinion she was, at best, plain, although she’d often been told she had beautiful bone structure. Maybe everyone else could see something she couldn’t.

And maybe she’d better check her knickers before she went back behind the bar. Brief as it had been, that unexpected little skirmish had ended very well indeed.

*****

‘At last,’ said Joe in greeting, ‘I was expecting a much older woman.’

Working a week with Joe, seeing him virtually every waking moment, Angie was by then used to his particular brand of sarcasm. Not caring that he was her boss she simply stuck her tongue out at him and got on with serving some customers. Joe, meanwhile, got on with chatting to his lecturer friend.

Angie scowled as she pulled pints. Professor Parkinson was about forty, elegant and beautiful beyond belief. She was only supposed to be seen there in the Union Bar a couple of times a year, but tonight was her third visit since Monday.

Like three days in a row.

The cradle-snatching bitch was