Monday, August 18, 2008

Moonshine killed a shade of grey

- What the fuck do you mean you’re not writing anymore??? –asked Ed-
- I mean I give up! –I answered-
- What’s wrong with you? Have you been staring at the leftovers heating in the microwave oven for too long until your brains were completely burnt? Come on, baby, what makes you think you can give up? You just can’t!–he said, raising his voice-
- I won’t be selling! –I cried-
- No way! You will! Leave that to me: I’m the editor. You’re not going to surrender now! Stop whining like a spoiled baby and start writing! -he said, pushing the laptop towards me-. Just in case you forgot, let me remind you what the situation is: you made a bet with Hell; you lost and now you have to pay your debt writing a book. And I have to publish that book, or you will be doomed to burn in Hell forever.

He was very right.

- Where do I start? -I cried-
- The answer is simple… you’re a writer, so put your thinking cap on! I won’t let you go until the book is finished! –he shouted at me-. But as I said before, I will help you. Inspiration won’t come easy if you don’t focus, and you’re not focussing at all. Put on the black diamond I gave you, please.

Orders are orders. I looked for it in my jewel box and wore it. I didn't dare ask if it had some mysterious inspirational energy or something. He quietly sat on his chair and said seriously:

- I’ll start writing the title and the two first pages. Then it will be your turn to continue. When you finish the second chapter, I’ll do the third one and so on.

I nodded, accepting the deal. What else could I do?

- The deadline will be … the end of your holidays. –he said solemnly-
- Come off it! –I complained-
- You will stay here and finish the book by the 31st of August … or it will be doomsday for the two of us!

So my holidays were planned. I would spend my summer vacation at Cape Hope, Ed Davies’s mansion at the Seashell Islands. I was a bit of a prisoner: not exactly encaged; not exactly free, either.

During the following days, I lived in a luxurious room with an impressive view to the sea, where I led an orderly existence and had everything I wanted, except -of course- freedom of movement.

Stoicescu, the Romanian butler, knocked on my door every morning at 8:00 AM sharp and brought me a tray with energy breakfast.

- I can’t eat all that. I will get fat like a whale if I do. –I protested-
- I don’t think this could possibly happen, Ms Qinan. You’re very skinny, if you allow me the expression. –he said, politely-

I allowed him, he was right.
I had books; music; films; a laptop; good internet connection; a private beach where I had a swim every morning; the most delicious diet; peace of mind and all the time I needed. I even had a complete and fashionable wardrobe, including the most expensive designer’s clothes. Oh, and the cuttiest hairpins collection I had ever seen. Ed knew I love them.

I worked hard and used to fall asleep early at night, exhausted from my writing. The sea breeze and my lonely walks on the beach granted me a good night sleep. But I didn’t hear from Ed for five days.

Normally, I can stand loneliness fairly well. I even enjoy being on my own from time to time, daydreaming or lost in my world of fantasies and thoughts. But I started missing him badly and soon I fell into a state of deep blues. That feeling helped me writing, though. Love; sadness; happiness; hate; despair. These are the emotions and feelings that trigger my inspiration shaking my mind and soul, making my imagination work hectically, moving me to write. He knew that very well.

On the sixth day, I got this e-mail from him:


Here’s the first chapter of your book. The title of this work is “Moonshine killed a shade of grey”. I have no idea what that it means, but the story will start writing itself as soon as we’re comfortable writing together. Read it, please, and tell me what you think.


It made me smile. I opened the attachment eagerly:

Moonshine killed a shade of grey – Chapter one:

I am not sure if all this has happened or my sick mind led me to believe that this incredible story ever took place in my life…”

I read the whole chapter carefully and it was good; very good; so good that I couldn’t wait to start writing the second instalment. The fact that he would want to share his writing skills and fantasies with me without conditions, touched me very deeply.

Stoicescu was my only company at that time, but to be honest… the loyal Romanian butler was not much of a company. Every day I asked him:

- Is Lord Davies in the house?

But he never answered me. He just smiled confidently and nodded.

The night after, there was a terrible thunderstorm at Cape Hope. It was very hot and I was in bed, barely dressed. The windows were open and the closed curtains were swinging with the wind.

It was 2:00 AM and I woke up at the terrible sound of a huge thunder. I buried my face in the pillow, expecting the storm would finish soon. I closed my eyes and suddenly had strange visions, lost in the mists of my dreams. But was it a dream… or was it happening for real? I still don’t know.

I suddenly felt a quiet presence beside me. In my twilight sleep, I turned to lay on my back, so that I could see who it was.

- You look so beautiful when you’re asleep, baby. Did you know that?

I saw Ed sitting on one side of my bed, gazing into my eyes. I whispered incomprehensible words in a weird language he couldn’t understand. He put his ear near to my mouth and my breath tickled him.

- I don’t understand you, honey. But you sound so lovely. –he said with a low voice-

The thunders were fading down. The storm moved away. He stared at me intensely and took his time to stop at every small detail.

- I love the small folds in your neck when you turn your head to the side; the hidden parts of your body when you move; your earlobes; the delicate holes for your earrings; your eyelashes vibrating when you dream; your tongue moistening your lips from time to time; your small breasts gently rising, gently falling when you breathe. –he said-

He bent over and blew softly on my belly. I think I arched my back with pleasure when he did that. Then he kissed my inner thighs, slowly, gently and his fingers smoothly outlined my pubic hair. I vaguely remember rolling over onto my back and hissing, responding to the intensively dreamy foreplay closing my legs. But... was it real, or was it just my dream?

It was tricky for him to continue the kissing without waking me up, so he turned off to my hips. He touched me only with his lips, softly and imperceptibly, as the touch of a feather.

I laid face down. He pushed to the side some strands of my hair falling on my shoulders and neck, to kiss my hairline. And then his tongue, gliding along my spine, draw an imaginary line from my neck to my lower back. That made me shiver. I remember moaning and protesting weakly when he stopped.

He finally covered me with the silky sheet and his hand followed the shape of my body under the fabric.

- Sweet dreams, darling. I will be watching your sleep. –he whispered, vanishing in the dark of night-

"Touch me with your love" (Beth Orton)


max said...

Wow, are you writing another story? Will the readerships be honoured to read it? Please.


SpanishGoth said...

Is that like "Killing Me Softly With Moonshine"? - I blame it all on Boss Hog - bastard

Fernando said...

Pero bueno, ¿es que no descansas ni en vacaciones?.

Gracias por seguir regalándonos momentos tan agradables de lectura.

Un beso, Leti.

Leni Qinan said...


Yes, there's another story on its way (the book I have to write to pay my debt, remember?). It will be soon published (I hope, next month, after I arrange some details that need to be done with my partner author).


Leni Qinan said...

Hi Goth!

Naaah, it's not like "Killing me softly with moonshine", but i bet you prefer this one to Roberta Flack's tune, lol.

Take care, moonshine could kill you, you certainly like it, don't you? :)

Leni Qinan said...

Hola Fernandito,

Esto de escribir no me supone ningún cansancio, la verdad. Más bien es un placer. Y un placer que disfrutes con la lectura. Más dentro de poco, y nuevos planes.

Bss. LENI.

Fernando said...

Se me olvidó decirte que estás muy guapa en la nueva foto.

Espero ansioso nuevas entregas.

Un beso, Leti.

Leni Qinan said...

Gracias mil, Fernando -tú siempre tan majo! :)-

Alguien me dijo hace unos días que la foto estaba bien, pero que no se me veían los ojos. No se puede contentar a todo el mundo :(

Me la hicieron el día que fui a ver yates a un puerto deportivo y me acordé de tí.

Leni. (Algo marinera este verano).

Fernando said...

Pues habrá que aprovechar el nacimiento en tí de esete nuevo rubro naútico.

Te acabo de incluir en el rol de mi barco.

Pero no te me amotines, que te conozco.

Un beso, Leti. ¿De vuelta al trabajo ya?

Leni Qinan said...


Yo soy muy bien mandada, pero como me vuelvas a llamar Leti, me tiro por la borda. :)


Crazy Ro said...

Hola Leni=)
Hace bastante que no pasaba a visitar....Voy a tener que ponerme al día y leer lo que me perdí=)

Espero que hayas tenido unas lindas vacaciones.


Leni Qinan said...

Hola Ro, me alegro mucho de verte por aquí otra vez! ¿Cómo ha ido tu viaje por Europa?

He intentado visitar tu blog cientos de veces, pero recibo un mensaje extraño que dice que no he sido invitada. Llegué a pensar que lo habías cerrado! ¿Puedo volver?

XXX. ;)

Crazy Ro said...

hola leni!

Mi viajecito bien....tranquilo, pero lindo=)
Y mi pudiste entrar porque efectivamente lo cerré...
pero quien sabe tal vez lo retome, no ya ya, pero en algún momento (te aviso cuando suceda!)

Besos y buen finde! (yo me voy a la costa, pero argentina=)

Leni Qinan said...

Hola Ro, no sé si llegarás a leer este comentario pero por si acaso... ¿cerraste el blog? oooooooooooooh... ¡qué pena! Espero que no te diera una crisis de blogger -eso es normal, y puedo contarte las cien mil veces que he pensado en cerrar este blog también-.
Espero sinceramente que lo retomes después de un merecido descanso, porque tus admiradores te hemos echado de menos.

Un beso y felices vacaciones en la costa!

Grass said...

the title is undeniably intriguing.. i can't wait to read the rest of it should you decide to finish it.. heck, I can't even understand why moonshine would kill a shade of grey? or what's it about even..hehehe

I liked the way you wrote cutest as cuttiest. that's really effective.. It made me think that aside from being cute, the hairpins were tiny and exquisite as well.. That's a technique in writing that I would call, thrifty.. a single word to describe a thing in details.. :d