But when faced with a reporter's questions last week, even she admitted she felt awkward.

In a frank interview she explains why the media is so important and why people are often terrified of journalists

NN Gronback is hired to offer results - and reassurance.

Companies employ her to get their name in newspapers as often as possible.

And as a former journalist, Ann knows what editors want.

But often she finds it difficult to convince her clients to speak out.

"An awful lot of people are terrified of journalists," she said.

"It is my job to explain to clients how the media works and stop them being so nervous about it."

Ann said this bad perception of reporters was often unfounded.

She said some unscrupulous journalists would twist people's words, but the majority were fair.

"A lot of people sit and talk to a reporter without realising what they are saying," she said.

"When they later read their words they panic and so claim to have been misquoted."

It is this understanding of the media that gives Ann, 40, the edge in her profession.

As a girl - like her father, grandfather, uncle and great uncle before her - Ann always wanted to be reporter.

The family firm, Gronback Journalists in Liverpool, had been set up in 1922.

But instead of joining the business, Ann decided to go it alone and joined her local newspaper, the Formby Times.

Reporters would knock out stories on old typewriters which were sent down to the press then hand set in hot metal.

"I felt I had a finger on the button of what was going on in the town," said Ann.

"The newspaper could influence things by highlighting serious issues and encouraging readers to understand them."

But after six years of working for the paper, she left the company - and the profession.

Her husband Paul, who she had known since she was young, sold his printing business and the couple moved to Scotland to open a country hotel.

It is a move that Ann now regrets.

"I didn't realise quite how much I enjoyed my job until I had left it," she said.

Some guests were demanding and abusive to both the staff and the rooms.

And it was left to Ann to clear up after they'd left.

"I thought I had seen the bad side of life as a journalist but I think you see worse things as a hotelier," she said.

Eccentric guests, such as a couple who walked their tortoise a few yards before tea, helped to make hotel life better.

But after two years Ann had had enough and she and her husband sold up and moved back south.

By then it was the mid eighties and Ann was disillusioned with the newspaper industry.

London was the place for a serious journalist to make their mark, but she had no desire to move to the capital.

"The tabloids seemed to have gone berserk and were pushing things further and further to get stories," she said.

"I couldn't see myself having a long-term future in journalism."

Instead she plumped for a PR job at Iceland frozen foods.

Affectionately referred to by the boss as The Company Gob, Ann was responsible for the PR for all 100 stores and in charge of the company's public profile.

She wrote annual reports, press releases and organised promotions and events - including a visit by Prince Charles in 1987.

"A business has to face up to the fact that their image is essential," she said.

"The better their image, the more they will benefit."

Every Christmas Ann delivered champagne to women's magazines.

During one delivery in December 1988, Ann, then 28, was involved in a car accident which stopped her working for two years.

"I had no movement in my neck or my left arm," she said.

"I couldn't do anything like iron or even hold a telephone for long."

By her 30th birthday Ann was still wearing a neck collar but was desperate to return to work.

After many rejected job applications, she finally secured a position with a PR consultancy in Shropshire.

Her tasks were as varied as her many clients. But all were designed to get the media's attention.

Ann dreamed up the concept of the biggest wellies in the world - standing at a proud 6ft - to promote an agricultural competition.

The idea worked but she probably didn't realise that the boots would find a home in her garage when they weren't being used.

In 1993 Ann moved to Knutsford with her second husband Steve Blanchard who she'd met at Iceland.

Her new employers were one of the biggest PR companies in Manchester.

"In PR you are a pawn between the clients who think their story is great, and the newspapers who think otherwise," she said.

"Even if it is an absolutely great story a bigger one might come along."

A lot of time Ann found herself explaining to clients why certain stories hadn't made the front page.

After three years of hard work and long hours, Ann decided she'd had enough.

"I would leave Knutsford at 7am and often didn't get in until 9pm," she said.

"I decided to take my life back."

In December 1996 she set up her own PR firm Solus - the Latin word for alone - from her home in Grove Park, Knutsford.

Her list of clients now include Shell, Transco and Crosby Homes.

"I am absolutely determined that I am not going to grow," she said. "When you employ people you start to lose control."

Solus is doing well as the PR industry continues to boom.

But Ann's journalistic roots still give her the most thrills in her work.

"I love it when my press releases are printed verbatim in a newspaper," she said.

"It shows I haven't lost my writing touch."

'In PR you are a pawn between the clients who think their story is great, and the newspapers who think otherwise.

Converted for the new archive on 13 March 2001. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.