Vixen stood and turned toward the door. “Do you really want your father to go to jail for the rest of his life? Do you want to forfeit that fat bank...account and your nice, red car?” She sat back down and stripped off her sweater and dropped it on the floor. Her nipples were hard and pointed upward, quivering. She was both angry and frightened. She tossed back her curly hair and waited, gritting her teeth while the professor looked up her and down and smiled. Except for the sports bra she wore. Honeysuckle. They're claiming we sold them a flower that talks!"They don't seem to mind that the flower talks; but, they do keep complaining that this flower uses... well... some pretty colorful language," she said."See if they'll let you interview this talking flower—and if you ever... tell anybody I ask you to do this interview... , I'm gonna deny it," she promised.Geez! I thought. Here we go again.About now, I'm looking for a lifeboat. I think I see the Titanic steaming toward me over the. More

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