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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.

Gail Carriger

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Gail Carriger
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: May 4
Archaeologist
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Bolinas
California
Ones
Swooping
Hands
Hesitated
Wells
Breed
Well
Preferred
Made
Motion
Really
Swim
Like
Fish
Fishes

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I believe there is a considerable range in the bang of most guns.
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As with most things in life, Lady Maccon preferred the civilized exterior to the dark underbelly (with the exception of pork products, of course.)
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Alexia blinked stupidly at the Beta from around the earl’s upper arm. Her heart was doing crazy things, and she still could not locate her kneecaps. She took a deep breath and put some serious attention into tracking them down.
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She was no closer to determining who might want her dead. There were just too many possibilities.
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She moved with such purpose it was as though she walked with exclamation marks.
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He...boasted an unassuming mustache, which was perched atop his upper lip cautiously, as though it were slightly embarrassed to be there and would like to slide away and become a sideburn or something more fashionable.
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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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Lord Maccon was built like a brick outhouse, with opinions twice as unmoving and often equally full of crap.
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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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At such close range, even she could hit a vampire full force in the shoulder, surprising him considerably. He paused in his attack. “Well, my word! You can’t threaten me, you’re pregnant!
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Uh, my lord, I am not actually food. You do realize this, yes?
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A man was attacking me with a wet handkerchief.
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A vampire, like a lady, never reveals his true age.
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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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I am rather fond of ladybugs. They are so delightfully hemispherical.
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It's no good choosing your first husband from a school for evil geniuses. Much too difficult to kill.
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The important question is, what will your wear for a wedding dress, Alexia? You look horrible in white.
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Madame Lefoux accepted a cup of tea and sat on another little settee, next to the relocated calico cat. The cat clearly believed Madame Lefoux was there to provide chin scratches. Madame Lefoux provided.
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Acknowledgements With grateful thanks to the three least-appreciated and hardest-working proselytizers of the written word: independent bookstores, librarians, and teachers.
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