Deep Purple

Response to FriendlyQuark’s Purple Prose Challenge.

Challenge: “create the most florid and over-blown tale you can imagine” in the style of the guilty pleasure known as serial novels. For those who haven’t yet read FriendlyQuark’s masterpieces, they may be found at adultfan.nexcess.net, HogwartsUndeadInc.com (under the penname “Nearsighted Nellie”), fanfiction.net and potterverse.com. It’s a non-guilty pleasure; her writing is stunning and is never over-the-top.

Here is all we know about the type of novels the challenge requires us to emulate:

It was the latest in a series about the fictional Antigone Terrill, Auror Intrepidus. Tony, to her friends, was in yet another perilous situation trapped between a vampire and a cult of dark wizards. The plot was unlikely, the scholarship spotty and the prose far from sterling and closer to purple, but the heroine was always triumphant, good always won out and Tony was never dirty, stinking and filled with nightmares. In fact, Tony never had a hair out of place or was anything more than artfully mussed. Kathryn found the stories both amusing and comforting. They were a guilty pleasure that she had not indulged in for far too long.


Barrie claims I need to respond to this because I’m so good at humor. I know the real reason: I’m so good at writing bad prose. The usual disclaimers apply with the additional caveat that there is no similarity intended between what follows and works I’ve actually read (usually after having written them myself).

The following story, then, is part of the Sub Rosa universe (and is the very story that Kat is reading in chapter 40 of E Pluribus Unum).

And so, with no further ado, I give you –


Heart of Stone, An Antigone Terrill Adventure.

Antigone Terrill, Auror Intrepidus, stood on the vast outcropping of granite, her scarlet locks stroked sensuously by invisible fingers of wind. As the brilliant gibbous orb that gave light sank slowly beneath the far-distant horizon, Tony’s normally luminous colouring slowly bleakened to grey. She was so still as to appear to be part of the rock; only her heaving bosom and the crystalline tears tracing delicate curves over her flushed cheeks belied her sentience.

“Farewell, my love,” she exhaled breathily. “Know that you were the hero of my heart, my lord of love, sovereign of my spirit.”

With a last delicate sob, and squaring her perfectly toned shoulders, Tony turned and faced the rest of her life.

Two weeks later, Tony was languidly reclining on a deck chair, enjoying the soft Mediterranean breeze as it caressed her supple skin like a languid Latin lover. She had artfully arranged herself to watch the tall, dark and dangerous playboy she had been assigned to follow. She remembered receiving the assignment as clearly as if it had been yesterday, which – coincidentally enough – it had been.

“Agent Terrill,” her superior, Grant Scott-Andrews, had said, “Terrence Cutty is on the move. It’s time he is caught and brought to justice. You, Tony, are the only Auror I can count on to not lose your heart or your head and capture him.”

Tony took a moment to look at Grant. His classically chiselled looks had served him well over the years and even now, at the age of 1he whe was able to attract more than his share of attention from the witches he encountered. The greying hair at his temples accentuated his aura of power and virility. Tony had to admit that even she had been drawn to him; she was, after all, only magical.

As she had taken the file folder from Grant, their fingers touched. The contact was brief but electric – Grant’s breath hitched in his chest while Tony’s eyes widened in surprise and arousal. A long look of lingering desire crossed their faces but they both knew it could never be. Antigone Terrill was the Agency’s best Auror and the most decorated Auror Intrepidus ever seen; love was simply not a luxury either of them could afford. With a heart-wrenching sigh, Tony let the infinitesimally brief brush of Grant’s fingers become a treasured memory; she stood and proudly sauntered out of his office.

Agent Terrill re-focused her attention on the object of her gaze. The man was undeniably handsome and, given the number of women flitting in his orbit, he appeared to be the very star of the ship’s universe.

Ah, the ship. Antigone took a moment to cast her cool, appraising gaze over the luxury liner she was now on. She noticed all the usual suspects – the wealthy wizards and witches who had nothing but money and time to enjoy some of life’s finer pleasures. Tony sighed; these creature comforts weren’t for her. Still, she was glad that her old-line family gave her the wealth, wisdom and wardrobe needed to mix with this crowd.

A sudden outcry caught her attention; Terrence was pointing his wand at a cowering ship elf. Tony surreptitiously cast the complex and exhausting charm that would allow her to hear everything that was said, categorizing it according to speaker, and storing it in her mind for future reference.

“Return Madame’s jewels, Pelly, and no one will harm you or dress you,” Terrence shouted at the ship elf who was quivering in abject terror.

“Pelly doesn’t have any jewels, Sir; Pelly would never…”

“Silence!” Cutty bellowed. “Of course you have the jewels. I witnessed you taking them!”

Tony immediately ignited in indignation. A ship elf would never steal jewellery; the moment such a creature took anything that could be worn would cause them to be instantly freed. By coincidence, the Auror had carefully studied and memorized all the charms cast on every cruise ship in the wizarding tourist world last month; she knew that any ship elf that became free du a v a voyage would be immediately portkeyed to a ship elf halfway house in Vienna, Austria. The very fact that the frightened Pelly was still aboard proclaimed his innocence.

It only took a moment for Antigone to realize that Terrence Cutty was attempting to frame Pelly – and, in her compassionate heart, Tony knew there were others – for his crimes. The Auror Intrepidus gritted her perfectly aligned teeth, squared her firm but delicate jaw and, pressing her clenched fist to her ample breast, vowed that Cutty would pay for his injustice.

That very evening, as Tony dined at the Captain’s Table, she spied the perpetrator of prejudice sitting at her elbow. Terrence cast an appreciative eye over the long, lean, leggy Agent, his gaze lingering lastingly at two locations: her enticing décolletage and her 6-carat dia diamond bedecked earlobes.

Dinner was spent in companionable silence; the Captain spoke not a word of English and didn’t bother to cast a translation charm. The other guests were unremarkable except for the exquisite and rare trinkets that adorned their necks, fingers, earrings, wrists, hair and one ankle.

Agent Terrill marked mentally the inventory Terrence Cutty appeared to take and her nostrils flared delicately in horror as she observed him ask the ship elf attending their table for her name. Tony knew with everything in her that she would die to protect that elf’s servitude.

As the gold-leafed saffron truffle essecrèmcrème brulée ramekins were removed and the last of the double decaf soy latte with a half shot of espresso and a twist of lemon in cappuccino cups were emptied, Tony cast a sultry glance at her quarry. When her delicate pink tongue carefully lifted the last of the cappuccino foam from her lips, he shifted in his chair, allowing his burgeoning manhood to seek a more comfortable position.

Tony noticed his – interest – in her actions and knew that the time was right to make her move. Terrence Cutty was a dangerous man, having killed many innocent victims and talented Aurors. She knew she could cast the complex portkey spell that would immediately transport the man to Azkaban but that wasn’t what was worrying her. It was how to do it. These things must be done delicately...or she would hurt the spell.

The answer was suddenly as clear to hear as the sky that was enchanted to appear on every ceiling she encountered: she must lure him to her. Tony hated this part of her job; it bothered her no end to lure men to her by using her beauty. She would never knowingly exploit a witch but wizards seemed so vulnerable to a heavy-lidded glance, a glimpse of thigh, a smouldering gaze… and, in the end, if it removed even one more blight on the face of magical society, she was willing to sacrifice herself for the greater good.

Steeling herself, Agent Terrill arched a suggestive eyebrow at Cutty. As she expected, Terrence leapt at the chance to taste carnal pleasures.

He offered her his hand as Tony slowly and sensually slid from her seat. She breathed an invitation into his ear and she thrilled at the quickening pulse she saw at the juncture of his broad shoulders and manly neck.

Unwarding her door, Tony paused for a moment. Terrence’s hand was drawing small circles at the small of her back and he stopped at her hesitation. She stepped into the room and looked up at him from her down-turned lashes. Terrence felt the heat pooling in his loins at her wanton expression lea leaned in to kiss her.

His tongue tasted the seam of her lips, begging entrance which she willingly granted. He groaned as she writhed in shameful abandon against his hardening length. Her breath became erratic as his erotic kisses drove her to the heights of heightened sensitivity. With a throaty whimper, the Auror turned her head offering her earlobes to her lusty lothario.

A familiar popping noise brought Antigone back to her senses. After a momentary minute in melancholy, she sighed. Realizing it was all for the best, Tony removed the remaining earring. She rolled her eyes in exasperation; she would have a great deal of explaining to do. This would be the fourth Azkaban portkey that she had used without proper prior permission in as many months. Still, the safety of wizard society’s greatest jewels – and the sanctity of the ship elf world – were well worth the administrative aggravation.

fin

And now, my dear Ms. Quark, it\'s YOUR turn. It will no doubt be more difficult for you to write this badly than it was for me! Mwa ha ha .... well, you know.