Magenta's fingers and toes were wrinkly, she had been there for some time, listening to the music, turning on the hot tap occasionally, sipping the sherry while she enjoyed the embrace of the clear, warm water and the titillating stimulation of the air jets in the jacuzzi. Magenta had gone through the pile of books and magazines on a little stand by the bath, and had been totally absorbed in one old book she found there, "Draconia the Seventh,Vampire Queen of Catnipia".

A quiet tap on the door reminded Magenta where she was...