& Moira Bianchi

terça-feira, 16 de maio de 2017

Regency love alternative - part 3

And then, there's curiosity...

Love in acts

3rd act

LOVE INSIDE AND OUT

sweet loving, humor, rated M, short, P&P alternative from Hunsford on


Chapter 3
He had barely slept and his humor was as sour as it could get. Rosings had the worst beds in all England; dusty, too soft to hold his big frame, drapes too thin that let the first sunrays wake him too early, too big washing room that made his bath water cool too soon.  Aside from all the impracticalities of his Aunt’s estate, he kept wondering what it was that damned Caroline Bingley had on the fetching Elizabeth Bennett to blackmail her.

And to top it all, he had been wandering the grounds for three quarters of an hour and still the fetching vixen was nowhere to be found. His valet said she walked every morning after breakfast and that she received a letter sealed with a coat of arms. That kept him on his toes. Caroline Bingley wanting to tie his vixen to her brother – former friend of Darcy if Bingley thought he could steal her from under his nose. Coat of arms, letter, hot weather, sweat running down his back, sun shining on his eyes and making it difficult to look ahead, a morning dress that let her light figure’s silhouette show him all the loveliness inside-

‘Mr. Darcy!’

‘Oh, Miss Elizabeth.’ He bowed and tipped his hat. ‘How are you doing this morning, miss?’

‘Fine.’ She curtsied. ‘Taking a stroll to survey the park, sir?’ He nodded still with the unnerving pressed smile on his face. She sighed to herself. ‘Let me not disturb you. Good day, sir.’

‘Miss, may I accompany you?’ He immediately started to walk alongside her when she passed him by.

‘I thank you, but there is no need.’ She pressed her hands together behind her back so he would understand she didn’t want his arm in any form.

‘A lady alone in the park is not safe, may someone come upon you I could defend your honor.’

She stopped short, he raised his brows and she frowned at him. ‘Pray, sir, this should not happen here for the great Lady Catherine de Bourgh would not have cads wandering her park!’

‘Indeed!’ He laughed openly unable to curb his amusement.

Elizabeth blushed violently, realizing too late she had repeated a silly joke she had been using to mock Charlotte’s husband. ‘I beg you forgiveness, sir, I didn’t mean to offend-’

‘You didn’t, miss!’ He was still chuckling and offered his arm to her. ‘If I may be so bold, I would like to ask your permission to tell my sister of this new law our Aunt has decreed. You see, we have a list of all the orders she has ever set upon her estate and family.’

Vanquished, Elizabeth giggled and took the crook of his arm. ‘You may.’ She gave him one of those devilishly fetching side looks with her fine eyes smiling. ‘But only if you tell me some of them.’

‘Let me see…’ He took the path leading up the hill towards the lake. ‘There was a time when the swans couldn’t swim around the lake. She used to say they made the view from the dining room too white.’ Satisfied with her giggle, he decided to try his hand. ‘I believe in reciprocating, Miss Elizabeth.’

‘Oh, dear! What the evil swans did to vindicate their denied area?’

He chuckled shaking his head. ‘I meant us, Miss.’ He said and she twisted her head to him so her bonnet would let her look at his eyes. ‘An information for an information. May you trust me?’

She frowned prettily. ‘But I already did, sir, and you paid with information of more value than mine. I am grateful.’

‘Touché.’ He smiled, she smiled back and they walked in silence for a few minutes.

‘Have you seen Mr. Bingley lately, sir?’ She asked after curbing her curiosity for as long as she could and saw the question took him by surprise. ‘My sister is in London, she wrote saying she called on Miss Bingley but he was not in town.’

‘Are you interested in Bingley, Miss Elizabeth?’

‘Well, yes. He seemed to be very partial to my sister when you visited…’

‘His sister knows more than me, I am afraid. Perhaps she sent word to him speaking of your sister.’

She snorted. ‘Perhaps not.’ Elizabeth mumbled.

They arrived at the top of the hill; gallantly he extended his handkerchief over a flat rock and smiled. ‘So you can rest, madam.’ She nodded her gratitude and sat with his help. ‘There.’ He pointed. ‘The lake where the swans only could occupy the hear.’

As she smiled craning her neck to look, he lost his sight on her loveliness, face and bosom flushed from the exertion, the few tendrils of hair escaping the bonnet, the small hands, small feet inside boots, the clasped knees. Could all this belong to a man out of wedding lock? How else could damned Caroline Bingley ruin her?

‘Miss Bingley can be a trifle too opinionated sometimes.’ He said following his line of thought but for her it didn’t make much sense. ‘I know so, Bingley has been my friend since Cambridge and we have discussed our siblings occasionally.’

She blinked looking up at him and raised her hand to shade her eyes. ‘Pray, sir, come closer.’

He smiled gladly walking towards her, chuckled when she directed him a little more to the side so he’d stand between her and the sun. ‘Opinionated how?’

‘She seems to believe her views are good enough to direct people’s lives.’

Elizabeth considered that for a few moments. ‘You imply she is directing her brother’s life?’

He eyed her carefully. ‘Miss, you can trust me. I can solve a problem you feel to be trapping you.’

‘Sir?’

‘Miss Bennett.’ He leaned and caught one of her hands for a tender squeeze. ‘Let me help you.’

Her face reddened, her ears burned. ‘You overheard me and Charlotte…’ She bit her lip.

‘Please, let me help you.’

She withdrew her hand from his and shook her head. ‘It is nothing, sir.’

‘Miss Elizabeth, I won’t let Caroline Bingley or anyone ruin you.’

‘Ruin me?’ Her face and bosom grew impossibly more crimson, it was the second time that morning he implied her virtue was at risk. ‘Whatever do you mean, Mr. Darcy?’

‘If Miss Bingley has proof a gentleman engaged you in any sort of activities, I can vouch to save-’

She stood in a jump. ‘Stop, sir. Miss Bingley is a silly little spiteful woman who thinks she can profit from me, but I can handle her. It is nothing, really.’

‘Your friend seems to think you need help.’

‘Charlotte- Mrs. Collins is of the idea I used to be as spiteful as Miss Bingley.’ She huffed. ‘I am not.’ She raised her small nose petulantly and he smiled wishing with all his bones he could place a kiss on its tip. ‘You need not waste your time with it.’ She brushed her dress thinking Charlotte did manage to make things worse.

‘I am obliged to comply, Miss.’ He collected his handkerchief and stored it in his pocket. ‘But I want to make it clear my offer stands. Whenever you consider it time, I am ready to aid you.’

She sighed. ‘Shall we return?’

Silent for the time it took for him to walk her until the Parsonage came into view, both brooded the situation trying to find a solution. Unfortunately for Elizabeth, fortunately for Darcy, Mr. Collins was hurrying back home to tell his wife they had been invited to dine at Rosings that night.

Wings

Maids’ gossips

‘Good Lord, the ladies are arguing like pussycats!’ Agatha giggled carrying a bucket of water downstairs while Ashton had Elizabeth’s dress over her arm. ‘Do you know why?’ Ashton shook her head. ‘Come on, girl, you can talk. It wasn’t me going through Miss Elizabeth’s letters!’


‘It was so low of you two, I know you tried to distract me so Hannah could open Miss Elizabeth’s trunk. What letter did she want?’

Agatha looked around her and stopped in the middle of the stairs to lean forward and whisper. ‘Rodgers, the handsome valet of the pompous rich gentleman who was at Meryton, remember?’ Ashton nodded. ‘He was very interested in Miss Elizabeth. He asked all kinds of questions and wanted to see the crested seal of the letter she got last week.’

‘Why?’

‘Why?’ Agatha sneered. ‘His master wants to know, that is why!’

‘He can’t have any design on Miss Elizabeth, can he?’

‘She is a gentleman’s daughter, handsome, lively… He would be a fool not to. Except that he has an understanding with Miss Anne…’

‘So his intentions to Miss Elizabeth are not proper, you think?’

‘Hannah said she is sure he heard Mrs. Collins say Miss Elizabeth is ruined-’ Ashton gasped, Agatha nodded. ‘And so he can be thinking to hire her as his mistress.’

‘Dear Lord!’

‘He may say something to her tonight at dinner.’

Ashton’s legs wobbled. ‘Miss Elizabeth is not ruined. She is proper and virtuous. I know she is.’


Agatha shrugged, got a hold of the bucket and continued down the narrow servants’ stairs.

Didn't it?

chapter 4

quinta-feira, 11 de maio de 2017

Musical Post 9 - I choose you

Sara Beirelles is like Colbie Caillat to me, I like amost anything they sing. And sometimes, depending on the stage of effort I am in my run, I'm not sure which voice is coming from my ipod.

And both have inspired me on my writings more than once. It's like my muse dreams of their muse as companion.



This Sara song - I choose you - is so lovely, it has everything to do with the last book I wrote, the closing romance for my first series - the modern fairytales.

Let just enjoy the soft voice and romantic lyrics.

Let the bough break, let it come down crashing
Let the sun fade out to a dark sky
I can't say I'd even notice it was absent
'Cause I could live by the light in your eyes
I'll unfold before you
Would have strung together
The very first words of a lifelong love letter
Tell the world that we finally got it all right
I choose
you
I will become yours and you will become mine
I choose
you
I choose
You, yeah
There was a time when I would have believed them
If they told me that you could not come true
Just love's illusion
But then you found me
And everything changed
And I believe in something again
My whole heart
Will be yours forever
This is a beautiful start
To a lifelong love letter
Tell the world that we finally got it all right
I choose
You
I will become yours and you will become mine
I choose
You
I choose
You
We are not perfect we'll learn from our mistakes
And as long as it takes I will prove my love to you
I am not scared of the elements I am underprepared,
But I am willing
And even better
I get to be the other half of you
Tell the world that we finally got it all right
I choose
You, yeah
I will become yours and you will become mine
I choose
You

quarta-feira, 10 de maio de 2017

Regency love alternative - part 2

Secrets can be so dangerous... 

Love in acts

3rd act

LOVE INSIDE AND OUT

sweet loving, humor, rated M, short, P&P alternative from Hunsford on


Chapter 2
‘Is anything the matter, Fitzwilliam?’

‘No, madam.’

‘The letter you received, any problems at Pemberley? I can help you solve anything you might have trouble dealing with.’

‘I thank you, but everything is under control. Georgiana wanted my opinion on a sojourn in Bath, that’s all.’

As Lady Catherine started a monologue about the place, Darcy walked to the tea tray glad Elizabeth was the only one near it. Albeit there were footmen close, she felt obliged to serve him; it would be terribly impolite to move far from the tray solely because the man was coming her way.

‘Tea, sir?’

‘I thank you, Miss Elizabeth.’ He bowed slightly; she pressed an excuse of a smile offering him the cup. ‘You are very kind.’

‘I’m afraid it is rather cold, you’ve been gone for quite a while. Maybe I could ring for more?’ She offered hoping for a plausible excuse to move far from him.

He understood she wanted to please him. ‘It’s fine, miss.’ He smiled charmingly and observed with a certain amount of happiness that his expression took her by surprise. ‘Are you in good health?’ She nodded. ‘You’ve been far from Hertfordshire since Michaelmas?’

‘I’ve been to London visiting my uncle and aunt.’

He nodded sipping tea. ‘And may I offer assistance in anything you might need?’ She frowned. ‘If there are any inconveniences you need to have solved, miss, all you have to do is confide in me.’ She gasped.

Rewarding his chivalry, he saw her press her hands to her delectable bosom and sigh and jump on his neck hiding her pretty nose in his cravat whispering how much she appreciated his gesture and would forever be in his debt. In reality, it was his aunt who called him rather rudely demanding to know what was he talking to Miss Bennett at one side of the parlor while they were all conversing at the other.

He sighed and saw with sadness Elizabeth not only move away from him but also make obvious effort to avoid his company for the rest of the afternoon.

---

‘Deuce take these servants.’ Darcy complained throwing the dusty cover of the carom billiards table to the floor.

‘I wager they hope Deuce take our Aunt first. She certainly makes them work overtime.’ Colonel Fitzwilliam opened a cupboard to get balls and cues. ‘It is already amazing how she commissioned this table in the first place.

They set and broke the game in silence.

‘Richard, what you think it is?’ Darcy asked, eyes on his ball as he leaned over the table.

‘She is someone’s mistress!’

Darcy’s cue hit the ball sideways and it twirled around itself. ‘Deuce!’

Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed.

‘If that vixen is to be a mistress, she is to be mine.’ Darcy walked to the side table and emptied his tumble of brandy. He winced as his cousin was still laughing. ‘Didn’t I tell you she was very handsome in an unconventional way?’

‘I think she is handsome as most ladies. The unconventional comes from you.’

‘Fine eyes, they sparkle.’ He mused out loud. ‘But of course she wouldn’t show it to you because she showed it to me.’ He pressed his eyes looking at the window. ‘She is no one’s lover, she is proper and elegant. I watched her walk from the Parsonage today, so handsome…’

‘That is why you kept behind us, you scoundrel!’

Darcy grinned. ‘I wanted to offer her my arm, but you jumped in front of me.’

Colonel Fitzwilliam shook his head. ‘This year you’ll have to shop for a wife, the season is about to start. If you’ll insist on a lady that doesn’t belong to the ton, be prepared to fight my mama and Aunt Catherine.’ He leaned over the table to play.

‘I don’t have to fight anyone; I am master of my own estate.’ Darcy raised his nose. ‘And I won’t shop for anything; I’ll wait to marry after you.’ He sniggered.

‘If you won’t, I may shop for a bride here… The vixen? If I free her from Bingley’s horrid sister, she’ll be grateful to me…’

‘Only if you want me to challenge you.’ Darcy snorted. ‘I can’t fathom why I didn’t see that damned Caroline playing me for a fool. When she spoke of how Jane Bennett was unfit for Bingley, I thought she meant his family needed people of sensibility and not Mrs. Bennett who is obviously an older and poorer version of herself.’ He walked to the table observing the balls move as his cousin played. ‘Mostly I wanted to escape Elizabeth’s eyes. But if Caroline wanted to push Jane away from her brother so Elizabeth would have him…’

‘Maybe she saw through you.’ Colonel Fitzwilliam straightened up. ‘Allow me to point you are not very inconspicuous when it comes to Bennett, cousin. You stare at her.’ He raised his shoulders and Darcy snorted again. ‘Anyway, we have a mystery in our hands: what a vicious ugly unmarried lady knows about another unmarried but handsome lady that could ruin her?’

‘Indeed…’


Awww, he's curious.
You'll need Persuasion, Mr. D. Better call Fred. ;)

chapter 3

domingo, 7 de maio de 2017

BIBLILOVE - A bela e a fera modernos - Capítulo 2

The plot thickens...



Série PRINCESAS POSSÍVEIS
VOLUME 1
romance inspirado em 'A bela e a fera'
capítulo anterior

Petrônio checou o celular, olhou em volta, andou até o fim da rua e quando estava pronto para ligar para seu secretário e conferir o endereço, viu a fachada charmosa da livraria recuada na calçada. O letreiro era pequeno como uma bandeirola lateral, ele esteve procurando letras grandes e vitrines iluminadas.

Quando empurrou a porta recebeu o golpe forte do cheiro gelado de livro da loja climatizada. Por fora parecia modesta, mas era enorme. Longa como um sobrado do século passado, estantes de madeira lustrada, iluminação difusa, poltronas estofadas espalhadas entre as mesas cobertas de volumes.

Um sorriso lhe esticou os lábios, o cheiro de madeira mexia com sua memória afetiva, de repente estava na oficina do seu pai e avô em meio a serragem, chegou a ouvir o zumbido dos tornos.

Deveria ser bom presságio, as coisas iam dar certo, pensou consigo mesmo e sacudindo a cabeça reparou em movimento na estante do fundo.

‘Boa tarde?’

‘Boa!’

Naquela manhã, tinha acordado tenso ainda resolvendo pontas soltas de Brasília, estava preocupado em acertar a última pendência, o local onde encontraria o tal intelectual tinha cheiro de infância, a voz engraçada do camarada magrinho de boné no alto da escada fez Petrônio rir baixinho. ‘Estou procurando Machado.’

‘Pois não?’ Cibele se virou na escada sorrindo e franziu a testa. ‘Conheço você... Da academia?’

Petrônio também franziu a testa chegando mais perto. ‘Cibele, certo? Me deu uma surra no outro dia.’

‘Isso!’ Ela tirou os três pregos da boca. ‘O pessoal disse que você está fazendo aulas de manhã. Gostando?’

Ele se retorceu. ‘Ainda me acostumando.’

Cibele esperou a cantada com certa ironia. Geralmente os caras tentavam conquistá-la logo que a conheciam, esse tinha levado mais de uma semana. Talvez tivesse ganhado coragem quando ela perguntou por ele na academia, alguém deve ter comentado. Como ele parecia estar ocupadíssimo em analisar todos os detalhes das estantes e das milhares de lombadas de livros, ela resolveu tomar a dianteira. ‘Estava tentando arrumar aquela barra lá em cima.’ Apontou para o gato de cabelo grisalho e olhos fundos ver onde precisava de conserto. ‘Está soltando.’

Petrônio não precisava fazer nenhum favor à bela lutadora, mas era um cavalheiro e não estava com pressa. ‘Chama-se testada.’ Ele sorriu pegando o martelo. ‘Com unhas de gato muito caprichadas.’ De perto, o trabalho de marcenaria era ainda mais detalhado. ‘Estantes muito bonitas, bem cuidadas.’

Ela estendeu os pregos. ‘Obrigada.’

Ele pegou, olhou com cuidado e devolveu. ‘Melhor se for sem cabeça.’

‘Prego sem cabeça!’

‘Sim. De dezesseis.’

‘Huh?’

‘Pequenos assim.’ Ele mostrou apertando o polegar contra o dedo indicador. ‘Sua marcenaria merece ser cuidada.’

‘Entende mesmo de madeira...’

‘Pai e avô marceneiros.’ Ele sorriu. ‘Tem os pregos?’

‘Huh-huh.’ Ela sacudiu a cabeça. ‘Só esses.’

‘Não.’ Ele desceu da escada. ‘Compra os sem-cabeça e coloca bem no canto, cuidado para não machucar a unha de gato.’ A mulher bonita franziu a testa sob o boné, ele sorriu e acariciou as três ranhuras na lateral da estante. ‘Essas canaletas que terminam em elevação curva são chamadas de ‘unha de gato’, coisa de marceneiro bom, competente.’

Cibele balançou a cabeça recebendo o martelo de volta.

‘Xavier Machado?’ Petrônio insistiu sorrindo seu bom humor. ‘Seu marido? Patrão?’

‘Pai.’ Cibele fechou a escada e ele pegou para ajudá-la a guardar no armário no fundo da loja. ‘Precisa de alguma coisa em especial? Livro de arte ou-’

‘É só com ele mesmo.’

‘Ok.’ Levantou os ombros, agradeceu o cavalheirismo de manobrar a escada pesada, soltou o cabelo do boné e no balcão, ela ligou para o pai pedindo para ele descer. ‘Pode esperar no escritório do fundo.’ Cibele disse mal disfarçando o risinho de deboche. Seu pai ia olhar para o cara, balançar a cabeça e mandar resolver com ela.

Petrônio enfiou as mãos nos bolsos e levantou o rosto para o sol filtrado pela pérgola do grande jardim de inverno ligando a livraria ao escritório por um pátio muito charmoso. O lugar realmente só poderia pertencer a um amante da literatura.

De longe ele viu a mulher bonita tirar livros de uma caixa e arrumar na mesa da frente, sua silhueta tão bonita escondida no macacão jeans que só deixava metade da camiseta justa e os ombros à mostra. Quem diria que a fera loura trabalhava em uma livraria?

O homem barrigudo de cabeça branca entrou por uma porta lateral, beijou a testa da filha adulta e esticou a mão indicando o escritório.

Confortavelmente sentado na cadeira estofada atrás da sua mesa cheia de livros empilhados, Xavier desviou os olhos para o cartão de visitas. ‘Quem me indicou, Petrônio Rocha Leão?’ Perguntou limpando as lentes dos óculos em um lenço que sacou do bolso da calça depois de ouvir a proposta de serviço.

‘Um amigo em comum.’ Petrônio se recostou na cadeira em frente à mesa coberta de papel e livros. ‘Foi muito bem recomendado.’

‘Faço ghost writing, mas não gosto muito.’ Xavier recolocou os óculos no rosto e o lenço no bolso. ‘É trabalhoso e paga mal.’

‘Faça seu orçamento, será honrado.’

‘Seu amigo vai pedir desconto.’

‘Eu vou pagar diretamente.’

Xavier esperou.

‘Sr. Machado, preciso de um serviço primoroso de qualidade inquestionável e isso tem seu preço. Quem pegar esse livro poderá reclamar das revelações, mas não da linguagem e principalmente não de erros gramaticais.’ Petrônio se inclinou apoiando os cotovelos nos joelhos. ‘Sigilo absoluto, faremos um contrato meticuloso.’

‘O quão sigiloso?’

‘Somente você e ele estarão envolvidos.’

‘Sou funcionário público, preciso cumprir horário, minha filha me ajuda.’

‘Consigo licença remunerada para que se dedique a esse projeto especial.’

Xavier levantou as sobrancelhas. ‘Ainda assim Cibele trabalha comigo.’

‘Então, serão vocês três envolvidos.’

‘Você vai pagar, mas não vai ver?’

‘Não.’

O velho meneou a cabeça piscando devagar. ‘Tem habilidade para controlar a curiosidade e a ansiedade a este ponto?’

‘Conheço boa parte do que será revelado, sei que será chumbo grosso. Esse meu...’ Petrônio pausou para escolher o termo correto. Acabou por escolher o mais indicado no momento. ‘Amigo, está me ajudando a me desligar da colocação que exerci por anos e preciso retribuir a gentileza.’

‘E sobre o que seria este livro?’

‘Uma biografia.’

‘De quem?’

‘Um ex-congressista, atualmente age como assessor parlamentar.’

‘Brasília.’

‘Sim.

‘Desculpe-me o ceticismo.’

Ficou claro para Petrônio que a boa vontade do homem requeria alguma explicação (mesmo que frugal). ‘Me dediquei à função similar por uma década, mas este parece ser o momento exato para me desligar. Esse amigo foi meu maior concorrente por muito tempo, agora assume meus clientes e causas.’

‘Imagino que ser assessor parlamentar seja trabalho de prestígio com boa remuneração.’ Xavier investigou. ‘E vai sair.’

‘Sim.’

‘Respeito a discrição, mas me parece duvidoso.’

‘O trabalho de lobista tem essa conotação, é normal pensar assim. No meu caso específico, saio do Planalto no auge da carreira por não gostar do rumo que as coisas estão tomando; quem assume o poder das Casas faz um esquema perigoso. Tenho visto um movimento da Federal que nunca vi antes, Brasília não é mais a mesma. Decidi me dedicar à iniciativa privada.’ Petrônio se recostou novamente. ‘Mas o assunto não sou eu. Podemos acertar todos os detalhes antes que conheça meu amigo e depois vocês decidem se trabalharão juntos.’

‘Tem outras opções em vista? Procure outro, ghost writing não é meu passatempo preferido.’ Xavier prendeu os lábios.

‘Tenho três outros nomes, mas o seu é o primeiro da lista.’

‘Entendo. Cibele?’ Levantou a voz.

‘Pai?’ Ela respondeu da loja.

‘Imprime uma cópia do meu contrato de ghost writer, por favor.’

‘Você não faz mais isso, lembra?’

‘Essa menina é autoritária demais.’ Reclamou sacudindo a cabeça. ‘Pega?’ Insistiu.

Poucos minutos depois estavam no meio da xícara de café expresso quando Cibele entrou no escritório e o pai indicou Petrônio que agradeceu com um sorriso apertado nos lábios.

‘Já conhece minha filha?’

‘Sim.’ Petrônio trocou olhares com ela. ‘Me deu uma surra na semana passada.’

‘Na academia ou na rua?’ O pai riu vendo a expressão no rosto do homem. ‘A incentivei na prática de lutas logo cedo para proteção contra admiradores mais ardentes. Ela sempre foi assim, linda, desde pequena e só tem guarda-costas há pouco tempo.’

‘Olha o respeito, pai!...’ Cibele apontou o dedo e o pai riu mais alto. ‘Não liga, Petrônio. Ele debocha, mas é tão solidário quanto eu; inclusive foi ele quem primeiro deixou Átila usar o banheiro aqui do jardim.’ Ela apontou a porta vermelha em meio a vasos de plantas bem cuidadas. ‘É um homem educado em situação de rua, retribui como pode.’

Sem comentar, Petrônio pensou que o que viu no dia do jogo fazia um pouco mais de sentido. Abaixou os olhos para os papéis e quatro segundos foram suficientes para examinar o contrato de três páginas. ‘É razoável, vou fazer alguns adendos.’

‘Diga quais são e organizamos, eu ou Cibele. Não advogamos, mas temos registro na Ordem.’

‘Melhor.’ Petrônio balançou a cabeça devagar, pálpebras apertadas e olhar vago como se pensando em algo em especial. ‘Vamos cavar uma ação para você ajuizar para ele, assim garantimos confidencialidade.’

‘Está esperando problemas?’

‘Se ele gostar de você, acho que temos potencial para revelações explosivas; vou sondar editoras, quero que ele tenha todas as opções. O que está fazendo por mim vale minha atenção.’

Cibele sentou na janela do jardim de inverno e cruzou os braços. ‘Se são revelações sérias com um viés de opinião, acho que deveria considerar auto publicação.’ Os dois homens focaram nela. ‘Um editor pode ficar com medo de processos, exigir cortes. Ou mesmo ter que prestar contas a algum grupo...’

O pai concordou com a cabeça. ‘Bem pensado, querida. Mas nesse caso ia precisar de divulgação, um serviço de relações públicas competente...’ Se virou para Petrônio. ‘A não ser que a compilação já seja suficiente para catalogar memórias.’

‘Relações públicas e marketing são minha especialidade, minha equipe pode facilmente cuidar disso sem chamar atenção. Somos conhecidos de longa data, seria até esperado que ele me contratasse para essa função.’

‘Resolvido, então.’

‘Vou para Brasília amanhã, depois preciso estar em São Paulo e só devo voltar no final da semana. Antes disso meu assessor vai enviar as cláusulas revisadas, temos um advogado especializado na minha equipe direta.’ Petrônio levantou esticando a mão para o velho. ‘Senhor Machado-’

‘Xavier.’

‘Xavier, espero seu preço. Vou cobrir.’


‘E aí, pai?’ Cibele perguntou depois que o homem havia saído da livraria.

‘Parece uma armadilha.’

‘Por que alguém ia querer te pegar em uma armadilha?’ Sorriu ironicamente. ‘Nem impostos a gente deve!’

‘Pode não ser para mim, mas me usando como instrumento.’

‘Cobra caro, deve ser suficiente para espantar o cara.’

‘É o que você faz com admiradores, exige restaurantes caríssimos?’

Ela deu de ombros. ‘Dá certo.’ E torceu o nariz. ‘Achei que ele estava aqui para me chamar para sair.’

‘Orgulho ferido?’

‘Não exatamente, só fiquei surpresa... Parece um cara sério, né?’

‘Estou desconfiado apesar da aparência de credibilidade.’

‘Declina a oferta logo de cara, pai.’


‘E como fica minha curiosidade?’ Ele sorriu. ‘Vou trabalhar.’ Beijou a testa da filha, pegou o paletó do terno e saiu.


E começaram!...

Depois disso, tem muita estória, muitas rosas, muito amor...
Gostou?

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sexta-feira, 5 de maio de 2017

Regency love alternative - part 1

Hello!
I've been very busy with the release and promoting of my first series of books - Princesas Possíveis (6 modern fairytales in Portuguese), so Love in three acts has been a bit neglected. Bad Moira!...
But, these stories are always on my mind, they mean a lot in my budding writer carreer. So, to amend my manners, I'll post a bit of act 3 here. They are available on kindle and googleplay, btw.
Let me know what you think?

Love in acts

3rd act

LOVE INSIDE AND OUT

sweet loving, humor, rated M, short, P&P alternative from Hunsford on

Chapter 1

‘I don’t understand you, Lizzy.’

Eye roll.

‘You used to fight back when someone cornered you.’

Elizabeth looked up from Charlotte to the door that opened.

‘Mrs. Collins.’

Charlotte raised a hand pressing Elizabeth in her defiant stare.

‘Miss Bingley has not got me cornered.’

‘She has and unbelievably you, of all people, accepted her blackmail.’

At the smallish foyer, two pairs of similar green eyes regarded each other in disbelief.

‘Pray, Charlotte, don’t blame me. It would be my ruin if she decided to babble…’ Elizabeth’s shoulders sagged. ‘It was most unfortunate to have been discovered by her.’

The green eyes were wide now, brows raised.

‘Mrs. Collins, I-’

‘Hanna, just a moment.’ Charlotte asked impatiently. ‘Look, she proved she meant it when she took her brother away after you refused her scheme. I thought you’d fight back when she said you were better than Jane for Mr. Bingley…’ Disappointment latent on her tone of voice.

One pair of green eyes had now a flash of jealous contempt.

‘Ma’am?’ The maid tried again impatiently.

‘Wait Hanna.’ Charlotte pressed Elizabeth and turned her head slightly to look at the maid.

‘Well…’ Elizabeth felt her stomach churn and repented from having eaten anything at all for breakfast. ‘If Ms. Bingley decides to make my life more difficult, I can spend a sojourn at Scot with your cousins, Charlotte.’

‘My cousin seemed partial to you last time he visited Meryton...’ She smiled sideways, the owner of the upset green eyes squirmed, the maid shifted form foot to foot. ‘But would you run?’ Charlotte asked incredulously.

‘It may solve a few problems.’ Elizabeth shrugged and waved her brows at the maid.

‘Yes, Hanna.’ Charlotte sighed.

‘You have callers, ma’am.’ The maid said stifling a small grin of satisfaction. ‘Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Darcy.’

Elizabeth’s face paled and her eyes widened, Charlotte was instantly on her feet. ‘Send them in, Hanna, please.’

‘If they heard us, Charlotte, prepare to die before you even become with child.’ Elizabeth whispered fiercely.

Charlotte shook a hand at her friend and put a smile on her face when the tall dashing gentlemen appeared all too soon in her morning parlor’s door. ‘Mr. Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam.’ 

Darcy eyed Elizabeth the moment he stepped through the doorframe. She looked lovely in a light blue morning gown, her hair piled up on top of her head, cheeks rosy probably from long walks under the spring sun… How could ugly and boring Caroline Bingley ruin such an adorable vixen? What big secret this minx had?

‘What a surprise, sir!’ Charlotte curtsied. ‘My friend Miss Elizabeth Bennett.’

Both men bowed. ‘Mrs. Collins. Pardon for this impromptu visit but as we arrived at our Aunt’s estate but an hour ago, we were in dear need of amiable sensible conversation.’ Colonel Fitzwilliam said good-humored and was pleased to see one lady chuckle and the other laugh.

Elizabeth raised her hand to her lips a second after she saw Darcy’s eyebrow shot upwards with her reaction to his cousin’s tease. Her eyes continued to laugh though, for she considered the poor soldier was indeed bored to death of spending time with the brooding snob cousin of his.

‘Miss Elizabeth, may I enquire after your family?’ Darcy asked hoping her laughter would still come out and in his head he saw her dance towards him, hold his gloved hands and seat with him on a couch to tell a silly anecdote of one of her silly sisters. Instead, her face hardened and he barely heard her answer they were all in good health.

He kept seated at a corner of the smallish parlor observing both ladies – mostly Elizabeth – and it was clear they were holding their reactions. Yes, they were overheard and yes, oh how much he wanted to discover what evil Bingley’s sneering sister was doing to this lovely lady who still bewitched him so. Towards him, she was polite indifference; towards his cousin, she was smiles and teases.

Before the parlor’s door opened again, Darcy arrived to a few good conclusions. One: he would find out what this secret was; two: he would solve whatever problem Elizabeth had to render her free of any blackmail; three: if it was something he wouldn’t be able to solve, he would at least keep her safe as the fourth and last conclusion was obvious: he would not be without her.

And the door opened to allow a sweaty and giddy Mr. Collins enter with alacrity saying the great Lady Catherine de Bourgh had her two nephews visiting and invited the parsonage occupants for tea. As the great visitors were already visiting the parsonage, the gentlemen waited the ladies change their attire so the five of them could walk together the length of the small park from Hunsford to Rosings Park.

Wings

Collins’ Parsonage

‘This letter just arrived, that is why he didn’t receive it before he left Rosings. Go, take it to him!’ Rodgers urged the scullery boy.

‘Hanna doesn’t like when we wander around the house.’ The boy scratched his head but was saved from his doubt by said maid who took the note and returned to the front of the house.

‘Pray, sir, is it the greatest house you’ve seen, Rosings?’ Ashton, Elizabeth’s lady’s maid asked, eyes wide.

‘No, it is as grand as Pemberley.’

‘Oh, I’ve heard of that at Meryton.’

He nodded. ‘I remember you there, miss. Tell me, is Agatha still employed at Lucas Lodge?’

‘No.’ Ashton shook her head popping a cherry in her mouth. ‘She’s here!’

As if on cue, the lively girl appeared flushed in the kitchen. ‘Ashton, come quickly because they are to…’ She stopped short seeing in the parsonage’s kitchen the man with whom she had danced at the inn a few months before. ‘…have tea at Rosings. Oh, hello, hello, Rodgers.’

He smiled at her. ‘Agatha.’

‘Come, Ashton!’ She took the other girl by the arm wanting to escape the man as soon as possible and started babbling as soon as they climbed two steps of the servants’ stairs. ‘Can you believe this? The man dances with half of Meryton, then takes that silly girl Ronda behind the barn and all of a sudden is here in our kitchen! And Hannah is also on fire because Mrs. Collins made her wait to say something again but she was somewhat revenged because by making her wait, the men heard what the ladies were saying.’

Ashton winced. ‘They keep talking about the same thing; Miss Elizabeth’s secret, wasn’t it?’ She bit her lip as Hannah walked by them with a sassy smile.

‘It is done, lad.’ She said hen she entered the kitchen. ‘Your master has received the letter.’

‘Thank you, ma’am.’ Rodgers said. ‘You are housekeeper, if I understood.’

‘Sort of, certainly don’t have the respect a housekeeper deserves.’

‘Mmmm…’ Rodgers pressed his lips. ‘Because I heard the maids saying something about a secret the lady from Hertfordshire keeps talking about, I mean, a secret should be kept a secret.’

‘Save your breath, lad. I wouldn’t tell you anything even if I knew what it was. Both ladies here come from Hertfordshire and aside from receiving two letters from London that put both of them in quite an uproar, nothing else to report.’ Hannah eyed him sideways. ‘You come here once a year and never had any interest in the parsonage. Why now?’

Rodgers shrugged. ‘Now my master leaves his aunt talking by herself and comes here before I had a chance to deliver him the mail.’

‘He is always in a haste to leave Rosings as soon as he arrives. I have seen it all the years I worked at the big house.’ Hannah snorted. ‘What ‘s the difference?’

‘I believe the difference has come from Hertfordshire.’

‘Ah!...’ She raised her brows and both of them nodded. ‘Then I could tell you that this difference-’ She gave him a funny look and he nodded understanding. ‘…she has received a letter with a coat of arms on the seal.’

‘Which coat of arms?’

‘Ha! How am I to know, lad?’ She chuckled.

‘Get it so I can take a look?’ Rodgers asked. ‘I can tell master will want to know and he can be generous…’ He winked, Hannah chuckled.

‘What I can do is tell you that the difference is rather fond of long walks every morning after breakfast. How is that for generosity?


Hmm... secrets.
What's not to love in them?

chapter 2

quarta-feira, 3 de maio de 2017

Musical post 8 - Shine

Hi,
Here's another song that got me for a verse - in this case a lovely foursome of verses.

I wanna be the one you steal, you shield, 
that your love can heal. 
Aww... lovely isn't it?
I could easily write a good scene based on this.


The song is Shine by Years&years and as I own an Ipod shuffle, I never see faces or read names which prevents unnecessary prejudice. Frequently I get surprised by the artists that get my heart.
This is the case.

Here's the lyrics.
I remember us alone
Waiting for the light to go
Don't you feel that hunger
I've got, so many secrets to show
When I saw you on that stage
I shiver with the look you gave
Don't you hear that rhythm, can you
Show me how we can escape

I was biting my tongue
I was trying to hide
(Ooh oh oh oh, ooh oh oh ooh)
I'll forget what I've done
I'll be redefined

It's shaking the sky
And I'm following lightning
I'll recover if you keep me alive
Don't leave me behind
Can you see me I'm shining
And it's you that I've been waiting to find
I'm holding it all tonight
I'm folding it all tonight
You know that you make it shine
And it's you that I've been waiting to find
I'm holding it all tonight
I'm folding it all tonight
You know that you make it shine
It's you that I've been waiting to find

Now that we can hear that sound
Now that you can hold me down
You can pull me under
You can raise everything to the ground
Everything I can arrange,
Every part of me you change
Just hold me together, tell me
You'll always want me to stay

I was biting my tongue
I was trying to hide
(Ooh oh oh oh, oh oh oh ooh)
I'll forget what I've done
I'll be redefined

It's shaking the sky
And I'm following lightning
I'll recover if you keep me alive
Don't leave me behind
Can you see me I'm shining
And it's you that I've been waiting to find

I wanna be the one you steal
I wanna be the one you shield
I wanna be the one
That your love, that your love
Can heal
I wanna be the one you steal
I wanna be the one you shield
I wanna be the one
That you'll love, that you'll love

It's shaking the sky
And I'm following lightning
I'll recover if you keep me alive
Don't leave me behind
Can you see me I'm shining
And it's you that I've been waiting to find
I'm holding it all tonight
I'm folding it all tonight

You know that you make it shine
It's you that I've be waiting to find
I'm holding it all tonight
I'm folding it all tonight
You know that you make it shine
It's you that I've be waiting to find
It's you that I've be waiting to find

It's you that I've been waiting to find