Okay....here goes a slight change of direction (just for fun). STORY================ Lydia closed the manuscript and tossed it on the floor. Maddox felt an all too familiar throbbing start behind his left eye. "This is the third manuscript in five weeks that you have brought me that has a dragon hauling Miyata off like a bale of hay," she said. "Just once...just once, why isn't it Arathon that gets dragged off?" "Our target audience is men 15 to 19. They liked to see women hanging by dragon claws." She tilted back in her chair. "That might be true if this was a television series. But here's news flash: the majority readership of 'Mayata, Woman of Iron' happen to be young women 13 to 16. And our survey says they want to read about Mayata being a woman of strength, not a mealy worm for a dragon. They want to have some plot twists that werent old in the 1950s." They are too young to know what was written in the 1950sthis is all new to them. What does it matter anywayits not like were trying to write a Shakespearean play here Maddox knew that was a mistake almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Lydia stood up from her chair, picked up the manuscript between two fingers, and dropped it into the trash can. She took a long look at him. Her gaze moved from his face down below his waist. She shook her head and then looked back up and looked into his eyes with eyes colder than a polar ice cap in winter. If you had bothered to show up for one story board meeting, you would know what we want from this series. We want adventure books for young women. A little danger, a little romance, and a strong female role model. Not woman as victim. Woman as being strong and capable. Im going to give you one more chance. One more chance to bring this pulp up to something vaguely original. And Im only giving you that chance because youre my brother-in-law and Sandra is six months pregnant. But you better get it right this time. Maddox grunted and then retrieved his manuscript out of the trashcan and left without a further word. He patted the gun, heavy in his pocket. She didnt know, the only one with a last chance was hers, and she just used it up. ===============STORY Well, Claymor...can you take the story twist anywhere?