~Kouryuu~

Prologue

London, England.

It was raining outside. I watched the iridescent drops running down the panes of the library window, completely mindless of the hour or day. Was I alive? Inside, I felt dead, my mind darkened and cold. I was holding a cup and saucer of tea in my hands, untouched and long since cooled. And I was standing – that much at least, I was aware of.

My mind wandered back and forth through the past, repeatedly finding those eight weeks that caused me such pain, but I pulled it back sharply, bringing my mind back to London before it strayed a little too far. Before it found that pain. I was aware of the pain.

‘Miss Ashley?’

I turned my head only to the door, lacking the strength to move the rest of me. A young girl a little older than myself was standing there. She was wearing a grey dress and a white apron tried about her thin middle. A part of me that I somehow could not awaken knew that face. At the moment it was concerned.

‘’Scuse me, miss. Master wishes to know if you’ll be dining with ‘im this evening?’

‘Evening?’ I said, troubled by the thought. ‘I thought it was morning.’

The girl looked at me strangely. ‘No, miss,’ she said. ‘It’s near gone eight o’clock, miss.’

‘Oh.’ I was not really surprised, merely concerned.

‘The master, miss?’

‘No, I’m not hungry,’ I said, ignoring the argumentative growls from my stomach. I could not face food. ‘Please, tell my father it’s all right to go ahead and eat without me.’

‘Yes, miss,’ said the maid, bobbing. But she did not leave right away. ‘Miss?’

I turned to look at her again.

‘Are you ill, miss,’ she asked.

I forced a smile onto my lips, but I knew it was false and so did she.

‘I am well,’ I said.

‘But you ain’t eaten a thing since you got back from Egypt,’ she protested. It wasn’t a lie. ‘Not even your breakfast, the cook says. An’ she made you’re favourite. Are you sure you’re not ill, miss?’

I had to admit, even with the lack of emotion in my body, I actually felt quite touched by her concern for me. I said, ‘I’m really quite all right.’ I lied. I felt bad for doing so, but I backed it up with, ‘It’s just the sudden change in the weather, that’s all.’

The girl bobbed again. ‘Do you want the candles lit, miss?’

For the first time, I noticed that the room was dark, the sky the same outside. And I abruptly realised that I could have actually been standing here for more than one day. But I liked the darkness. It was almost compassionate, so I told her to save the matches and she left the room quietly.

Once again, plunged back into my solitary loneliness, my mind began to amble away by itself. I tried to stop it but it was as if my reins had snapped, and I was suddenly back in Egypt, staring up at a stepped pyramid. I knew I could not stop myself so I let it loose, journeying back to the beginning when I had wanted to be an Adventuress like the ones in books, back to that day when I had received that letter from my fiancé, Alex, who had been excavating relics in Lower Egypt. I remember that letter word for word even now, and did not realise how significant that letter had become.

My dearest Ashley,
Forgive me for the months elapsed when you have heard very little from me, but as you know, business does not always leave me the time to pen you a sufficient enough letter.
I trust this letter finds you and your father in good health, and I don’t think it will be entirely inappropriate if you came out to Cairo to see me.

I hadn’t read anymore. I hadn’t needed to. He’d asked me to join him in Egypt. Of course, then, I had been delighted. That is how it came to be that I was standing on the docks of Alexandria’s harbour, the great fort walls gleaming white from the lustre of the sun …

My mind faltered there, unsure if it really did want to remember after all. Because that was the day my whole life changed.

I wish now that I had never gone to Egypt. I wish I’d stayed in London in the rain. I wished that more than anything now. Because, in Egypt, I had met Daniel.

Chapter One

Alexandria Harbour, Egypt.

‘Miss Parker, isn’t it?’

I turned abruptly, the grip on my arm causing sudden distress. I held onto my handbag tightly with both hands, wondering if I was about to be mugged. But as I flicked my head around I met a pair of soft silver eyes, and the feeling simply melted away.

They belonged to a man with dirty-blonde hair, rough in style, upon a perfectly chiselled face.

‘You are Miss Parker, aren’t you?’ he said again, looking slightly worried himself now.

I replied with a feeble nod of my head.

He sighed, but it was a rather harmonious sound. ‘Thank goodness for that,’ he said, with a smile of dazzling white that could heat a room. ‘For a moment I thought I might have gotten the wrong person and was in for a good bag-slapping.’

Guiltily I released my handbag.

‘Who are you?’ I asked meekly.

‘Alex asked me to pick you up,’ he said.

He offered me his hand to shake so I took it. It was a large tanned hand, with scratches on the knuckles and an old pink scar marking the back. I had never seen a hand like it before. Not in London.

Almost mystified by the stranger’s fluid movements, I watched him lift my cases into the back of a roofless car. He was wearing white slacks with white canvas topsiders and a navy blue short-sleeved shirt tucked into a black belt. The heat obviously didn’t bother this man.

He dropped the last case onto the back seat and then looked at me, his eyes as light-hearted as his lips so he clearly wasn’t embarrassed that he’d caught me staring at him.

‘Come on,’ he said, thumbing the air casually. ‘Hop in.’

I moved towards the car slowly. ‘Why has Alex not come for me himself,’ I said, bringing my mind away from those eyes. ‘I was expecting him, you see.’

The man leaned forward against the car door and shrugged lightly. ‘I’m sure he wanted to, miss. He said business doesn’t always allow.’

I nodded, satisfied. Alex was always saying that to me when he broke a promise or forgot arranged plans.

‘My fiancé is an important man in London,’ I said.

He looked at me again. His eyebrows were not raised but they looked like they should have been.

‘In London, maybe,’ he said.

He strode around the car, swung himself over the door and into the driving seat. It was an American car because the steering wheel was on the wrong side. He looked at me disarmingly, but I looked back with narrowing eyes and a hard scowl.

‘What did you mean by that?’ I demanded.

He managed to look a little embarrassed but not a lot. ‘I merely meant that out here, miss, your boyfriend’s heritage means very little. He should have come for you himself.’ He started the engine and then realised that I was still staring at him, so he shut it off again.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, meaning it. ‘I didn’t mean to cause offence.’

I believed him.

‘Come on, then,’ he said, restarting the car. ‘Hop in or it’ll be dark before we get there and you’ll miss the best of the scenery.’

I walked to the car and reached for the handle.

‘Oh, you’ll have to swing your leg over though,’ he said. ‘The doors don’t open on this model.’

‘Then why are there handles?’

‘You know, I don’t know the answer to that.’

I frowned as I hitched up my skirt, unmoved this time by those laughing eyes. ‘I take it you don’t pick up respectable women very often.’

The man laughed loudly but with a soothing gentleness that I only ever heard in the laugh of my father, and I felt my stomach judder as he ran his fingers through his golden hair.

‘You’re my first actually,’ he said.

‘Well I hope I’m not going to start a trend,’ I said, falling into the passenger seat.
He lifted the hat that had fallen over my eyes, still laughing and peered at me. ‘I doubt it,’ he said. ‘I don’t know many respectable women.’

‘You could have at least picked me up in something that I didn’t have to climb into.’

‘I could get you a camel if you’d prefer. They sit down for you.’

I scowled, but he just continued to smile, amused by me, so I let my expression soften. There was something very disarming about this man. Something about the way he laughed.

‘My name’s Shaw by the way,’ he said, as we pulled away from the docks. ‘Daniel Shaw.’

I tried to get comfortable in the seat but it was hard and worn, and he drove so fast that it was difficult to stay in one place. But if I was to be honest with myself, I actually found it quite exhilarating and I soon got the measure of it. No one drove like that in London that was for sure.

‘Are you a friend of Alex’s?’ I asked.

He gave a sudden bark of laughter then, and I watched a few small dimples appear on his bronzed face.

‘Yes, you could put it that way, I suppose,’ he said. ‘We’re partners.’

‘So you’re an Archaeologist then?’

He rubbed his head. ‘Kind of,’ he said. ‘Although I’m more of an Egyptologist really.’

‘Alex has never mentioned you in any of his letters.’

He looked hurt. ‘Well, that’s Alex for you, miss.’

‘What exactly do you mean?’

Shaw turned to me and at once offered another apologetic smile. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Boyish anger, forgive me. We’ll be in Cairo in about three hours. You must be tired after your long journey.’

I guess I must have been, but I hadn’t really noticed. I nodded once. Ahead, a flock of sheep came onto the road, blocking it. Shaw pulled to a stop, and instead of reaching for the horn and pushing it wildly, he simply put his head onto one hand and waited patiently as the animals crossed the road.

‘You’re really not from London, are you?’ I said. I hadn’t meant to say it aloud but I already had before I could stop myself.

He smiled again. ‘Miss Parker, I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but London isn’t the only city on Earth. And I can assure you that the world does not revolve around it. Although I can see that yours clearly does.’

I blushed. I guess I did think of London that way. I hadn’t really been anywhere else. Not extensively anyway.

‘Where are you from then? The country?’

‘Kind of,’ he said. ‘I’m from here.’

The last of the flock had cleared the road, but Shaw did not make to move. He was still watching the hedgerow.

‘Um, they’ve all gone now,’ I said.

‘No,’ he said. ‘The little one.’

I followed his eyes to the side of the road. A minute later a young lamb came bounding out onto the track and scampered quickly to catch up with its family. Shaw put the car in gear and drove on, waving to the shepherd as he went past. The man waved back, calling friendly words to Shaw who responded with a gentle laugh.

‘What did he say?’ I asked.

‘He said my car sounded like an angry buffalo and that you were very pretty for a white girl, and wondered if I wanted to sell you.’

I flushed. ‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Did you know him?’

He nodded still smiling. ‘Yes. His wife Esma has just had twin boys.’

‘How long have you been out here?’

He shrugged. ‘I’ve always been here,’ he said.

‘How come?’

‘How come, what? How come I don’t live in London?’

I scowled. He was playing with me, but for some reason it excited me. ‘How come you live here?’ I said.

He threw back his head and burst into another fit of laughter, looking at me with admiration glinting in his silver eyes. ‘You know,’ he said, ‘for a well-bred lady you ask a lot of personal questions.’

My face turned scarlet again. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said.

‘Oh, it’s all right, Miss Parker,’ he said, after a while. ‘Ask what you like. I don’t mind really.’

The dimples were in his face again, and I found myself staring at them, and at the rest of his face. Apart from his voice, a refined baritone that had the same striking effect as a beautifully played piece of music, he didn’t look all that different from any other good-looking man I’d met in London. But there was something prominently diverse about Mr Shaw that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. He had a kind of rugged air about him, but at the same time softness and compassion. One thing I knew for sure, he was certainly nothing like the socialites I spent my time with at home. But then, my home was a long way away now.

I glanced across at Shaw again, but he was concentrating on the road now so I did not ask any more questions. I wanted to, of course, but I leaned back into my seat and watched the fleeting city until my eyes grew heavy.

After half an hour I was fighting to keep them open, but the scenery was just so wonderful that I continued to fight sleep. But it was inevitable. I hadn’t slept at all on the train to Marseille or on the boat to Alexandria. I’d just been too excited. And now, although the thrill still burned in my heart for being here I could not fight it anymore. I let my eyes close. After a moment, I heard Shaw pull something from the back seat, and then I felt him laying something over me. It was his jacket.

The day had cooled and I hadn’t noticed how cold my arms were until I had his jacket to protect me from the wind. It was an old coat with a ripped lining, but it was soft and warm and it smelt of him. So with that feeling lingering in the pit of my stomach like a lead bullet, I stopped resisting and fell fast asleep.

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CountBlabula

This story just blew the air right out of me. It's so well written that I could not find a single snag in it, and the dialogue is exquisite! And you handled the pacing with grace, making the car trip intriguing.

I'm very proud for you-- this is a superbly written story!

Fossy

Wow this is brilliant - I wish I could write like you. The only thing I found confusing was the cup of tea in the beginning. It sounded as if the tea was in the saucer - minor thing. If I took this book off the shelf I would take it home and read it all day. You have a winner there - lucky thing.

__________________
Originally posted by Sam Winchester.
Fossy's good too. She gives good advice.

~Kouryuu~

Thanks you two! :] You're both very kind. I'lll keep posting!



It was about three hours later when I awoke. We were still driving, but we were in another city with different scents on the wind. I rubbed my eyes and sat up. I looked at Shaw. He was smiling at me.

‘Welcome back,’ he said.

‘Where are we?’

‘Cairo.’

‘Already?’ I was horrified. ‘Oh, have I missed some good sights?’

‘Lots,’ he said.

I leaned on my hand and stuck out my lower lip. This seemed to amuse him because he started to laugh again, reaching out and touching me on the shoulder lightly. ‘Hey, it’s all right,’ he said. ‘I’m sure you’ve got plenty of time to see them again. How long are you staying?’

‘I’m not sure,’ I admitted. ‘For however long Alex allows me, I guess.’

‘You don’t look the type of woman who would allow herself to be pushed around my a guy,’ he said.

I smiled at this compliment. I had always admired my stronger qualities. ‘It’s not like that,’ I said. ‘He doesn’t push me around. He just cares about my welfare, that’s all.’

Shaw nodded. ‘I can easily believe that. Look, there’s your hotel. The Nile Hilton.’

I followed his eyes.

‘It’s the best location in the city for tourists,’ Shaw said. ‘It’s not been built long. Look, that’s the Egyptian museum next door, and it’s right on the Nile. You’re going to love it.’

I didn’t doubt him.

‘Are you staying here, Mr Shaw?’

‘No. My house is in Giza. That’s closer to the pyramids.’

‘You mean, you really do live out here for real?’

‘Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, Miss Parker.’

I believed that too. He looked settled in his manner.

Alex was waiting outside the hotel when we arrived. At first, I could just see the glow of a cigar in the fading evening light, but soon the familiar round face and black hair emerged from behind the grey cloud of smoke.

Shaw parked the car and Alex helped me out of it, tossing my new friends jacket to one side as if it were an oily rag.

‘Ashley,’ he said, kissing my cheek fondly. ‘It’s so wonderful you decided to join me. Work shall be a little more enjoyable now, I’m sure. But I hope your father wasn’t too put out by you leaving him alone in London.’

‘Of course he wasn’t. You know he would never stop me from doing something that I wanted to do.’

Alex did know this. He adjusted his round rimmed glasses and drew on his cigar.
‘It does one good to travel, I think,’ he said. ‘It makes one appreciate one’s own country. But to be honest, my dear, I didn’t think that you’d jump at it as quickly as you did. Most women find it a struggle out here.’ He leaned closer to me. ‘Sanitation’s bloody awful. But the hotel isn’t too bad, thank God. Still, it could be worse, we could be staying in a mud-brick house like you, Daniel.’

Shaw acknowledged with a smile and a fleeting look in my direction.

‘Daniel lives out here, dear,’ said Alex, taking another puff on his cigar.

‘Yes, he told me,’ I said. ‘How very wonderful that must be.’

‘Even knows the names of some of the locals,’ he laughed. ‘I’ll be damned if I can tell the buggers apart.’

I thought about the shepherd just outside Alexandria, and how Shaw had known intimate details of his family. The thought warmed me.

‘Yes, but you can’t tell your own accountants apart either,’ said Shaw. ‘I bet you can’t name one of them.’

‘Of what importance are their names?’ said Alex flippantly. ‘I pay them don’t I? Can’t be expected to make polite conversation with them too.’

I coughed politely and Alex forgot his train of thought as he put an arm around my waist. He had never done that before, and I figured it had something to do with Mr Shaw.

‘I hope your journey was comfortable, my dear,’ he said. ‘You look shattered. I hope Daniel didn’t make it too distressing for you.’

‘No, it was –’ I began.

‘Daniel’s driving, I’m afraid, isn’t much to be desired. Apparently a driving license isn’t required out here.’

‘From what I’ve heard,’ Shaw said, reaching onto the back seat for my cases, ‘licenses aren’t required in London either.’

‘There you see?’ said Alex, apparently not impressed. ‘I hope he didn’t scare you.’

‘Of course he didn’t,’ I said, reassuring Mr Shaw more so than my concerned fiancé. ‘In fact, the journey was quite pleasant.’

Shaw smiled at me and then he looked at Alex knowingly. ‘You’d better keep an eye on her, Alex,’ he said. ‘If you’re not careful she’ll turn out like me. Dangerous driving is only the beginning of your problems, my friend.’

I was pleased by this twisted compliment because it had meant that he had noticed the Adventuress in me that I did not show to Alex.

‘Will you take me to see the pyramids tomorrow, Alex?’

Shaw suddenly roared with laughter. ‘You see?’ he said. ‘She hasn’t even settled in yet and already she’s talking about intrepid exploring. It’s started, Alex. I’m afraid there’s no hope for her now!’

‘It’s your fault, Mr Shaw,’ I said. ‘You’re quite incorrigible.’

Alex snorted and took the cigar from his mouth, giving Shaw a long hard look that men often shared when someone had been caught eyeing something that didn’t belong to them. It wasn’t an uncommon look, merely a warning, but it had hurt Shaw badly. His smile faded, but slowly so not to be noticed. But I had seen it. I felt bad for his sake.

‘No, I really do want to see the pyramids. I was only joking about Mr Shaw, Alex.’

‘Well, we’ll talk about it over dinner. You will, of course, join us, Daniel?’

Mr Shaw pulled the last of my bags out of his car and put them on the floor. I wondered why Alex had invited him after wounding him like that, and so did Shaw.

‘I’ve got some things to do,’ he said. He caught my eye and smiled lightly. ‘But I’ll try.’

‘Yes, do that,’ said Alex. ‘The others did enjoy your little fairy tales last time, Daniel. I’m sure they’d love to hear some more.’

Shaw did not smile this time. I doubted fairy tales meant anecdotes, and from the look on Shaw’s face, I guessed it had something to do with his work.

‘Come on, darling, let’s get you settled in.’

He took my arm and began to lead me towards the hotel, before he spun around again.

‘Oh, Daniel, bring Ashley’s things will you, there’s a good chap.’

‘I can manage myself, Al –’

‘No, it’s all right, Miss Parker,’ said Mr Shaw.

I watching him pick up all of my cases at once, and then he strode off ahead of us.
‘Good Lord, if you were to break a nail I’d never hear the end of it from him!’

He was laughing when we entered the hotel, but his eyes were still and humourless. He stopped to chat with an Arabian doorman in his own tongue, who turned to look at me, instantly reaching for my hands. He shook them heartily, both at the same time. Bewildered, I glanced at Shaw. He winked at me and I wondered what he had said to the man to make him regard me so highly. I didn’t ask though. Alex wasn’t looking too impressed and I worried for the sensitive side of Mr Shaw, although those silver eyes had certainly recovered quickly from Alex’s curtness.

Those eyes that were going to be a problem.




My bedroom was on the second floor next to Alex’s, and it was beautiful. I was truly amazed at how westernised it had been made to look.

There was a big double bed, with gorgeous red and gold bed sheets and matching cushions. Someone had thrown some pink and yellow rose petals across it and over the pillows.

‘Why -?’ I started to say, but Mr Shaw brushed passed me with my luggage and my stomach decided to plummet to my feet. I felt a little foolish.

‘A guy from Nubia must work here,’ he said. ‘It’s a tradition of theirs. You get it a lot in Aswan, but it’s not so common here,’ he explained. ‘It’s nice to see it in Cairo. You should feel honoured.’

Alex snorted. ‘Bugger’s only after a tip,’ he said nastily. ‘Damn unhygienic, if you ask me.’

Shaw started to look like he was being attacked again. ‘Well, we didn’t ask you,’ I said to Alex. ‘I think it’s beautiful.’

This seemed to do the trick. Although Alex was put out now, Mr Shaw seemed to be quite touched, and I realised that this place really was as much a part of him as London was to me.

‘I’ll put your cases down here by the dressing table,’ he said.

‘Thank you, Mr Shaw,’ I said. I meant it and he knew it. He nodded.

‘I’m afraid that I’ve got to go now. I’ve got a lot of things to do before we meet again, Miss Parker.’

He excused himself, but he left a ghost of a dashing smile behind him and I felt his warm glow stay with me for a long time after the door had closed.

‘I hope you are pleased with the room, my dear,’ said Alex, coming up close beside me.

‘Yes, it’s lovely,’ I said, just as he was about to kiss me.

He looked a little deflated for a while, for I didn’t often let him kiss me like that and he had thought the room and the country might have softened my defences. They hadn’t. Alex was still Alex in whatever country.

‘Well,’ he said, ‘I shall leave you now.’

He moved towards me again but only slightly, laying a kiss on my cheek. I was not surprised that I felt nothing from it, but I smiled like a loving fiancé anyway and said a kind goodbye. I had no doubt that he’d be showing me off to his friends tonight, but I was used to that.

I was alone now. Alex had gone. Alone in Egypt. So many adventures lay before me and there was so much to see. But I could not find the right muscles to move my legs, so I just stood there in the centre of the room like an idiot, staring relentlessly at the coloured flower petals scattered on the bed.
It really was a nice touch, and I thought about asking my own maids if they would do the same thing when I got back home.

Still, I stood there unable to move.

‘Wake up, girl!’ I shouted at myself. But I was not asleep.

‘Okay,’ I said, finally. ‘I know what you’re doing and you can stop it right this minute, Miss Parker!’

Miss Parker.

‘What?’ I said as innocently as possible. ‘Hundreds of men have called me that before.’

Not the way he did.

I could not deny that. Whenever he said my name it had been like he was laughing at it, mocking me. Maybe he was. But it excited me and I found it quite –

‘Stop it!’

But you did, you know you did. You can’t lie to me.

‘Yes, I can,’ I said defiantly.

No, Ashley, you can only try.

‘All right, so he was nice. Big deal. I know lots of nice men.’

No, you don’t.

‘Oh, shut up.’

You can still smell him on you, can’t you? That’s why you don’t want to move, isn’t it? In case you disrupt it and it disappears. You’ve only just met the man and already you’ve fallen.

‘That is not true!’

Yes, it is. You can’t lie to me. I am you remember. Even I don’t want to move.

‘You’re talking absolute nonsense. Watch.’

Haughtily, I walked across the room to the balcony window and pulled open the doors. A gentle perfumed breeze swept into the room and around my ears. It felt brilliant.

That doesn’t prove anything.

I smiled. I often had these arguments with myself.

You’ll regret it in a minute.

I was regretting it now. The presence of Daniel Shaw had already filtered away into like pistol smoke in the wind.

‘I hate you,’ I mumbled.

I sat down at the dressing table and stared into the oval mirror. A pair of bright emerald green eyes stared back, but they looked more lost that they usually did. I pulled the pins from my hair and let the style fall away into a mass of wild red corkscrews that went past my shoulders into the small of my back. I liked this red-headed woman I was looking at, and I wished more than anything that I could keep her. But I couldn’t. Alex wasn’t in love with that part of me. He never would be. He was in love with a pretence, a masquerade of a woman who didn’t really exist. I had never shown this wild woman to him and I never would. He wanted a porcelain doll, so I had given him a porcelain doll.

But you’re not a porcelain doll.

‘Shut up.’

You’re not going to wear that black dress again tonight, are you?

‘Alex says it’s his favourite.’

But you hate it.

‘I hate you.’

Wear the red one. You know you like the red one.

‘Alex doesn’t like me in that colour.’

Or the white one. Oh yes, the white one is best! Wear the white one!

‘Look, I’ll wear what I like. Now go away!’

Fine. Fine. But don’t forget to cover-up those dark rings under your eyes.

I looked up sharply. But I knew I had hardly slept from the excitement of travelling so I wasn’t at all surprised to see a dark colour under my eyes.
Porcelain dolls didn’t have bags under their eyes.

I pulled a tube of cover-up out of my handbag and got to work.

You’ve got dinner to get through yet, honey.

‘I thought you’d left?’
I came back.

‘Fine. Then help me with this tube, will you?’

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MiloDaePesdan

Clean and easy to read as always, Kouryuu.

Though I do wonder if you've done enough research of the time period in Egypt in the early 20th century of the places you're talking about. Oh, I don't know, it just might be me, but I like to have a sense of the world around me--even if briefly--once I immerse myself in a story.



Milo

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~Kouryuu~

Tis a very fair point, Milo! ^_^
I stayed in Egypt for most of 2003, and my mum's a semi-amatuer Egyptologist, so I've been pretty careful about my facts. The only reason I've not settled on an exact date is because I'm not entirely sure which year the Hilton was built in. I've found information on it to be quite vague. Was there anything inparticular that you wanted me to check up on?

Thanks again, Milo! ^_^

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Azmakna

christ, it'd take me an eternity to go through that! i'll take a few nibbles. one thing i noticed straight away though. 'it was raining outside' think about it. can it rain inside?

__________________
don't count me a blank page
waiting to be written on,
see me as a written page
waiting to be photocopied.

http://www.writersbeat.com

~Kouryuu~

True. But it immediately makes you realise that she's standing inside.

__________________

Azmakna

lol absolutely true! strike by observation

__________________
don't count me a blank page
waiting to be written on,
see me as a written page
waiting to be photocopied.

http://www.writersbeat.com

~Kouryuu~

xD You've taught me well, master!!! Lmao!!!!!

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Azmakna

i underline something that i find superfluous or needs further attention or reflects a critique i mentioned earlier. some nice story telling here, although the pace seems amiss here and there. be careful to slow and quicken at appropriate places. i would lengthen the conversation a bit, to create a smoother curve of pace.

__________________
don't count me a blank page
waiting to be written on,
see me as a written page
waiting to be photocopied.

http://www.writersbeat.com

Mairi

Gorgeous! I think you have the real deal here, Kouryuu. I couldn't stop reading that if I wanted to--it drew me in instantly and kept me prisoner all the way to the end.

I felt as though I was there. Subtle imagery and nicely done bits of humor, insightful emotions and clearly defined characters, smooth and silky prose, and a riveting story unfolding. Well done!

Hey, when you get published let me know so that I can buy a copy. I want to finish reading it!

Mairi

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"Logic will get you from A to B, Imagination will take you everywhere." ~Albert Einstein

~Kouryuu~

Thanks, Az! Im really beginning to see where you're coming from now. I think I can really learn a lot from you.

Mairi! Thank you so much, sweetie! I'm glad you like it!! I'll do my best to keep it up.




There were four other people at the table with Alex when I got to the dining room, and two empty seats, one of which was mine.

I realised almost immediately that I must have been late because Alex glared at me for longer than usual. Mr Shaw hadn’t appeared to have arrived yet either, so I smiled despite my fiancé, glad that I was not the last.

I apologised to the table of people I did not know for being so unpunctual and then to Alex, who simply snorted through his nose as he always did when I did things that upset him, but he showed me to my seat and we all sat down.

I had been placed between a woman who looked to be in her early fifties, wearing an exquisite red and black gown, and a rather nervous looking gentleman with slicked back black hair. He did not look at me.

‘That’s right, dear,’ said the woman. ‘You sit next to me. Oh, that dress is very nice.’

‘Thank you,’ I said, beating down my conscience. So I had worn the black dress, it didn’t mean anything.

‘What is that, silk?’ she asked.

‘Yes,’ I said.

‘Is it French made?’

‘Oh no,’ I said. ‘London. I’ve never been to France.’

‘Oh, have you not? How dreadful. The Parisians have such wonderful ideas about fashion. I’m a designer myself, you see.’

‘I’m afraid I don’t know very much about fashion, madam,’ I admitted, feeling a little foolish. ‘But please, do continue anyway. It is very interesting to hear new things.’

‘Oh, how sweet you are, child. Isn’t she sweet, Alex?’

Alex grunted.

‘I’m Rosalinde Hill,’ she said, turning sideways in her chair like an excited child. ‘But you call me Ros, my dear.’

‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Thank you. I’m Ashl –’

‘Ashley Parker. Yes, I know who you are. Alex has been talking about you all week. Haven’t you, Alex?’

Alex actually looked up this time. ‘Oh, indeed,’ he said. And then he returned to a conversation with a rather portly gentleman with a kind oval face who winked at me when I caught his eye.

‘I’m holidaying here,’ said Rosalinde. ‘Thought the change of air might do a girl good.’

‘You’re American,’ I said rather stupidly.

‘Oh, of course,’ she said, in such a way that it did not make me feel so much of an idiot. ‘I was born in Virginia, but these days I mostly live in New York. Have you been to New York?’

‘No,’ I said. ‘I haven’t.’

‘Oh, you should go. You should come and see my shop! Oh, I’ve got lots of dresses that would look just ravishing on you.’

I smiled shyly, knowing Alex’s eyes were on me.

‘So, um,’ I said to her, ‘who are all these people?’

‘Well, you know me,’ she said, the tone in her voice suggesting that was all one needed to know. ‘But that fidgety young man next to you is Mr Williams. He’s your fiancé’s personal assistant. I’m surprised you don’t know him already. But that’s his wife sitting opposite. Her name’s Carrie, I think. But she don’t talk much. In fact, she don’t talk at all.’

I glanced across the table to a pale faced woman who looked even skinnier than I did in an unbecoming olive-green dress. She was fiddling with the stem of a wine glass, and looking just as nervous as her husband.

‘She seems very strange,’ I said as politely as I could.

‘Damn weird, I’d say,’ said Rosalinde. ‘And that good-looking stud next to Alex is Sir Carston McCraw. You might know him. He lives in London too.’

I did know Sir Carston. But only by name. ‘He’s a judge, isn’t he? I met him once when I was little with my father at a Christmas party.’

Rosalinde Hill sighed melodramatically. ‘Some people have all the luck,’ she said. She leaned closer to me, her slightly plump face glowing with animation. ‘I’ve got the hots for him,’ she said.

‘Is there no Mr Hill?’ I asked playfully.

‘Oh no. Not for many years. The poor love.’

She looked sad for a moment, but she quickly brightened up again when Sir Carston passed a comment about her dress.

Her eyes were the brightest shade of blue I had ever seen, and they certainly were the most bewitching part of her charming face. She was a good-looking woman in her early fifties, I decided, auburn haired, with the most incredible skin for someone of her age. I think I knew as soon as I saw her that I was going to like her immensely, and I hoped we could be great friends.

Mr Shaw entered the dining room then, and I forgot all about Rosalinde’s perfect skin, thinking only of a pair of soft silver eyes that sent a shiver down my spine. I was the first to notice him, but I did not say anything to the others. That moment, as he strolled across the room in liquid strides, was mine.

Rosalinde saw him next and elbowed me in the ribs. ‘Oh, that’s Daniel,’ she said eagerly.

‘Yes, we’ve met,’ I said. ‘He picked me up from Alexandria this afternoon.’

I remembered him laying his jacket over me in the car to protect me from the wind. I remembered those eyes.

Rosalinde was biting her thumbnail. ‘Cor,’ she said. ‘If I were just thirty years younger I’d be getting me some of that. Hell, I’d go for it now if it weren’t for my bad back!’

She suddenly exploded into a body-shaking laugh, which caught the entire table’s attention. And then Shaw reached us.

‘I’m sorry I’m late,’ he said, greeting us all with an alluring smile.

He was dressed informally in beige cotton trousers, the same topsiders and a white shirt, unbuttoned at the collar and few buttons down, with the sleeves folded back onto his forearms. Alex and the other two gentlemen looked rather stupid compared to him in their grand dinner attire, I thought, when really it should have been the other way around.

He sat down between Rosalinde and Carrie Williams in such a flowing movement that it had me hypnotised immediately.

Shining another gorgeous smile around the faces, he caught mine last, catching the fascinated expression that I’d let slip onto my face by accident. His eyes smiled broader.

And then Sir Carston, who was a man, I decided, who was guided through life by the meals it offered, made a motion to order the first course.

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Fossy

You have an uncanny way of writing romance that is not mushy and as you are less than half my age I'm extremely jealous. You also have a huge talent for the subtle way people thought in the beginning of the last century that is still relevant today.

I don't feel capable of critiquing this as I don't have the experience and I think it's just a matter of personal opinion anyway, but I think it's perfect.

Have you finished the whole book, or are you still at the beginning?

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Originally posted by Sam Winchester.
Fossy's good too. She gives good advice.

Azmakna

a lot tighter this. the more you cut back the more people are going to tell you to add colour. RESIST, because they will ask you to add adjectives and adverbs. once you have learned to write in this tighter way, you will begin to mine for depth in other ways and stretch your abilities of observation, THEN you will see the benefits. break away from the pack and get serious. GOOD STUFF THIS

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don't count me a blank page
waiting to be written on,
see me as a written page
waiting to be photocopied.

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