Holidays in the Sun

By Limey Lady

Fresh from a broken all-girl relationship, under strict orders from her boss, Charley sets off on a fortnight abroad. And as far as rebounds go, this goes swimmingly.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Limey Lady
• Release date: Feb 2, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463172445

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

Holidays in the Sun

By LimeyLady

Copyright Mark C Woolridge (writing as LimeyLady), 2019

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

Introduction

Chapter One – A little about me

Chapter Two – Breaking up and taking a break

Chapter Three – Arrival

Chapter Four – Settling in

Chapter Five – Sunbathing for serious

Chapter Six – Meeting Izzy

Chapter Seven – Being taken by Izzy

Chapter Eight – More and more of Izzy

Chapter Nine – Days of bliss

Chapter Ten – Back to the real world

Afterword

Author’s Note

Other Books by LimeyLady

Introduction

Eff my old boots but haven’t I had fun! That has to be the best holiday ever had anywhere by anyone, ever, ever, ever. My only lament is that I didn’t book it with a travel agency that went bust while I was away. One did only last week, and quite a lot of holidaymakers got stranded here for a few extra days.

Stranded in paradise! I should be so lucky!!

Lucky, lucky, lucky!!!

There again, I really have been lucky for once. I used to claim if I didn’t have bad luck I wouldn’t have any at all. But this last fortnight has been nothing short of miraculous.

Talk about a major change in the roll of the dice.

As it is my plane boards in forty-five minutes and that’s the one bit of bad news I have had since I got here. I left the UK under the darkest of storm clouds and I’m going home floating on air.

The fact that bitch Cayla, in a roundabout sort of way, caused my vacation only adds to the big sense of delicious self-satisfaction. Two years I was with her . . . two effing years. We first set eyes on each other at a party at a mutual girlfriend’s, magically clicked . . . the black variety of magic, of course . . . agreed to have an immediate one-nighter . . .

And two years later we were still bonking like bunny rabbits.

Then, not yet a month and ago, Cayla got head-hunted. And get this; she accepted it straightaway without a passing thought for me. By the time I was filled in on the situation (it was over drinks that evening, in her local wine bar) she had already given her notice and applied for a US work visa.

‘New York,’ I echoed. ‘That’s three thousand miles away.’

Cayla laughed at my protest and told me the opportunity was once in a lifetime. She also assured me The Big Apple was the place to be; that once she got her feet under the table (or, rather, desk) there’d be no stopping her.

‘Give me six months and I’ll be indispensable,’ she bragged. ‘After that the sky’s the limit.’

And then, as if as an afterthought, she said I could go with her, if I liked.

‘My job’s much too important to leave,’ I declared adamantly.

She shrugged and said I could do my work anywhere, callously overlooking all of my treasured clients and the (sometimes hard-earned) bonds between us.

At this point I must admit panic came into play. I was already furious with her but I was also aware of how much I hated cities. I’d studied in Bristol and that was way too enormous for me. New York must be twenty times the size. Come to that, I’d briefly lived in the original York, back in God’s Own County; quaint and smaller than Bristol as York was, it was still far too cosmopolitan.

Roman walls, baths, castles, Clifford’s Tower and all, it was way too suffocating.

Now I’m not a physically violent person. I’m not even into sporty, physical contact games. But I have a relatively violent mouth on me. It started to let rip, accusing Cayla of being thoughtless, as insensitive as a brick and capable of expecting way too much from people who loved her.

She responded by saying she was about to