Quote

What have I done thins time? he paused to ask before continuing with his oral expedition about her body: her husband, the intrepid explorer.

Gail Carriger

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Gail Carriger
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: May 4
Archaeologist
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Bolinas
California
Time
Paused
Oral
Explorers
Continuing
Thins
Husband
Intrepid
Asks
Expedition
Body
Explorer
Done
Expeditions

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A vampire, like a lady, never reveals his true age.
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These things, regrettably, are bound to occur when one is married and befriended.
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He is clearly bookish. I did not follow a single word of their conversation at dinner last night, not one jot of it. He must be bookish.
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Someone was trying to kill Lady Alexia Maccon. It was most inconvenient, as she was in a dreadful hurry. Given her previous familiarity with near-death experiences and their comparative frequency with regards to her good self, Alexia should probably have allowed extra time for such a predictable happenstance.
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What’s that?” she asked the girl, wrinkling her nose. “Oh, that? That’s just Pillover.” “And what’s a pillover, when it’s at home?” “My little brother.” “Ah, I commiserate. I have several of my own. Dashed inconvenient, brothers.
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Lyall understood a broken heart, but it could not be allowed to rumple perfectly good shirtwaists.
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Lord Maccon looked up. “Grovel, you say?” Lyall did not glance away from the latest vampire report he was perusing. “Grovel, my lord.
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The Gamma paused. “You have a crazed werewolf in your wine cellar?” “You can think of a better place to stash him?” “What about the wine?
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Felicity grimaced in agreement. “No, you are perfectly correct. I did not realize how vital the approbation of one’s butler is in allowing for nocturnal autonomy.
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These feelings you engender in me, my lord, are most indelicate. You should stop causing them immediately.
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You are about as covert as a sledgehammer.
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One should do what one is best at on as large a scale as possible.
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My petal. Westminster’s toy had tea issues. Thank Biffy and Lyall. Toodle pip. A.
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I never gossip. I observe. And then relay my observations to practically everyone.
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She moved with such purpose it was as though she walked with exclamation marks.
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She reached inside the wide ruffle and pulled out a little vial. “Poison?” asked Lady Maccon, tilting her head to one side. “Certainly not. Something far more important: perfume. We cannot very well have you fighting crime unscented, now, can we?” “Oh.” Alexia nodded gravely. After all, Madame Lefoux was French. “Certainly not.
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Hello, princess,” said Lord Maccon to the vampire. “Got yourself into quite a pickle this time, didn't you?” Lord Akeldama looked him up and down. “My sweet young naked boy, you are hardly one to talk. Not that I mind, of course.
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My father, she admitted, was of Italian extraction. Unfortunately, not an affliction that can be cured. She paused. Though he did die.
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I like fish, chirruped Tunstell. Really, Mr. Tunstell? What is your preferred breed? Well--Tunstell hesitated--you know, the um, ones that--he made a swooping motion with both hands--uh, swim.
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Classic author moment, Oh dear, did I kill that character or not?
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