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Go for the gold and enjoy Ms. Fingers' signature drink: a refreshing lime colada! A rich cake batter-like vanilla, coconut and coconut cream form the decadent heart of this gold-toned blend, drizzled with tangy lime and cherry, layered with lemony golden copal and a dash of rum, topped with whipped cream and glittering with a swirl of 24 karat gold leaf to give you that prized aureate glow.


COCONUT ~ Protection, purification, receptivity.
LIME ~ Healing, love, protection.
CHERRY ~ Stimulates and attracts love, attracts mate. Cheerfulness, good humor, mood elevator, divination.
WHIPPED CREAM ~ Nurturing, soothing, eases troubled relationships. Goddess energy.
VANILLA ~ Aphrodisiac, inspires happiness, playfulness, sexual arousal, lust, vitalizing.
CARAMELIZED SUGAR ~ Attracts love, luck, sweetness and riches. Lust inducing, wishes granted.
COPAL ~ Love, purification, cleansing.
FERMENTED ALCOHOLS (RUM) ~ Intoxicant, used as an offering or appeasement for Gods, used in love spells, and celebratory spells.

24 kt GOLD LEAF ~ ~ Gold is masculine in energy and a representation of the sun. It's energy is projective and aggressive, and represents wealth and prosperity.


Created by: Mara Fox

Description: Julie (luna65)

Label art:

Bond Girls collection, June 2013


Review Thread


from All That Glitters Is Cold: an Agent Null adventure
by Julian Lune

Agent Null was used to waiting on villains, they liked to think they possessed the element of surprise and would appear when least expected. So he had decided to return the favor. In this case, he had booked himself at the exclusive Ricco Cattivo resort, a favored destination for villainy on the Italian Rivera. He knew his target – the international jewel thief Goldie Fingers – would shortly be along for some fun in the sun. He installed himself on the beach: working on his tan, occasionally sipping a cool bubbly Spritz, and reading the adventures of his favorite fictional spy, Agent Vulpe.

One day, as Null had read up to the newest Agent Vulpe book, four gold-clad bodyguards came along and erected a veritable palace of a cabana upon the sugary sands, it was a gaudy eyesore topped with a glittering crown.

"Cue Ms. Fingers, right on schedule," Null murmured. He kept his place as his prey took up residence in the cabana, carried in by that same procession of hired muscle with a caravan bearing various accessories following behind. Null imagined the inside of the structure was grander than most palaces. Over the course of the afternoon a parade of men with suitcases chained to their wrists went in and out of the structure, some looking pleased, others shamed.

"You call that 32 karat?!" he could hear her demand of one of the men. "I have microscopic pieces of gold flake nicer than this crap!"

Goldie Fingers had one true obsession, which had earned her the nom de voleur she currently used: gold. It was as if she were directly descended from the line of King Midas, such was the depth of her fixation. Null calmly continued reading as the sun slid gloriously into the Ligurian Sea, he had gotten to the exciting part where Agent Vulpe was squaring off against the evil criminal mastermind Sinister Tenebres. But then the beautiful roseate glow was blocked by one of the aforementioned bodyguards. Null looked far up into a face which had seen many fists up close, he imagined.

"Ms. Fingers says you come to dinner," he grunted.

"But I'm not dressed for it," Null said, wondering if one Beretta mousegun (tucked into a place not normally revealed even by a good frisking) offered any leverage against four steroid-enhanced employees should a dispute arise.

"She says you would try to be funny. You're not funny."

"No I don't suppose you would think so. Lead on, my good gorilla."

"That's not funny either," the man said, turning back towards the gold-and-white striped cabana. Null tucked his beach reading under one arm and obediently followed.

Had he not still been wearing his sunglasses, Agent Null would have been blinded by the décor of Goldie Fingers' beach cabana. The interior was entirely gold, and Null never knew there were so many types of the shade: from the near-silver shine of white gold to the mellow shimmer of old gold, and every variation in between. Goldie herself was like a living statuette in the midst of all the ostentation, her Rose Gold hair – a mix of gold, honey and apricot according to her dossier – framing the lovely bone structure of her face and its' creamy skin which shimmered with an application of gold dust. She wore a gold foil-toned bikini which nearly blended in with her – naturally – perfect golden tan.

"Agent Null," she greeted him, "You are surprisingly alive. I heard someone dropped a building on you."

"Oh they did," he assured her with a polite nod. "But it didn't take."

"Obviously. Please –" she waved a gold rimmed glass at him - containing a golden slushy-looking concoction, topped with a cherry and a gold straw inserted into its icy depths - gesturing that he should be seated. "Since you are here…and why are you here?"

"Because I wanted to bask in your aureate aura, Goldie." Null sexily slouched in his chair, fixing her with his most intense smolder. Eventually she sighed and moved toward him, fluttering her solid gold fingernails in his direction.

"I swear upon Midas himself, I cannot resist such a pretty face."

Null smiled. This was what several world governments paid him large classified amounts of money to do. But he was on vacation, after all, and maybe she was too.

"Tonight let's forget about our jobs, eh?" he murmured, as she draped herself across his lap. "Show me your latest etchings, darling."

Goldie created art with her fingernails – etchings on gold plate - which were actually quite highly coveted among collectors.

"Later, my pet. Now I want you to paint me." She slid off her sandals and wiggled her toenails. "I just got a new glitter polish, it is named for me!" She brandished the bottle which sparkled in a mesmerizing fashion.

"I shall be honored, darling." As Goldie reclined on her chaise and Null pulled up his chair and shook the bottle vigorously, he thought to himself, why do those novelists never write about what spies actually do, I wonder?

"Less thinking, more painting!" Goldie Fingers demanded.

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