The actress, who stars alongside Hollywood actor Art Malik, 52, said: "There are quite a few intimate sex scenes which I've never done before. I'm a straight woman so I wasn't worried about there being any sexual chemistry. Cockney Martine, 29, who played Tiffany Mitchell in EastEnders, added: "I fancy a lot of men I meet in the industry but it's true when people say there is nothing romantic about doing sex scenes. She laughed: "I just wanted to giggle all the time - especially when the director was shouting 'More thrusting! By Mirror. Get the biggest soaps stories by email Subscribe We will use your email address only for sending you newsletters.
Martine McCutcheon attacked with 'violent sexual comments' in harrowing ordeal
Martine McCutcheon Breaks Silence On Her Struggles With Lyme Disease
Her mother helped tidy up the text but McCutcheon reveals her celebrity novel is different from the others because it was penned without using ghost writers. Versatile: Martine poses in sexy lingerie for a photo-shoot. The year-old is now pondering what might have been in Hollywood as she eyes up marriage and a family with musician Jack McManus. Unlike other Hollywood stars, McCutcheon said she was dragged down by her home press following the smash hit Love Actually in
Memories of sexual harassment were unearthed today when the women discussed video footage showing a woman being catcalled. She continued: "As I went to say 'go away' one of them got hold of my coat collar. One person commented on her terrifying ordeal on Twitter: "What a frightening story Martine, thank god for the black cab driver! By Cydney Yeates.
They are feeling a bit bruised because actress-turned-singer-turned-first-time-novelist McCutcheon has just been bashed up at an awards ceremony by screenwriter Lynda La Plante for having the temerity to write a book, The Mistress. She'll have a lot of publicity, but it's the biggest load of rubbish. La Plante's intervention produced a wave of articles attacking celebrity authors — Katie Price aka Jordan , Kerry Katona, Ulrika Jonsson, and now McCutcheon — who, it was argued, were taking the bread from the mouths of real writers, as if one might pick up The Mistress instead of, say, some finely wrought verse by a manic-depressive northern poet in a slim volume published by Carcanet. It was all gibberish, a storm in a champagne glass, but has left its mark — on the publicist, at least. Less so on the author, who arrives at the decadently styled upstairs room of the Chelsea restaurant in which she has suggested we meet in a short black dress, black leather jacket, black tights and boots.