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Alexia,” she hissed to her friend, “there are knees positively everywhere. What do I do?

Gail Carriger

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Gail Carriger
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: May 4
Archaeologist
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Bolinas
California
Everywhere
Friend
Alexia
Hissed
Positively
Knees

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Lyall had spent centuries nibbling about the great layered cake that was polite society while Lord Akeldama acted the part of the frosting on its top.
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She had to give her teachers credit: they were right to insist all pupils carry scissors, handkerchiefs, perfume and hair ribbons at all times. At some point she'd learn why they also required a red lace doily and a lemon.
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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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I may be a werewolf and Scottish, but despite what you may have read about both, we are not cads!
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Alexia had spent long hours wondering over that mustache. Werewolves did not grow hair, as they did not age. Where had it come from? Had he always had it? For how many centuries had his poor abused upper lip labored under the burden of such vegetation?
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...you have been fraternizing with warewolves overmuch! Military men can be terribly bad for one's verbal concatenation!
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There are words to describe her, my dear, but one does not repeat them in polite company.
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Miss Tarabotti was not one of life's milk-water misses--in fact, quite the opposite. Many a gentleman had likened his first meeting with her to downing a very strong cognac when one was expecting to imbibe fruit juice--that is to say, startling and apt to leave one with a distinct burning sensation.
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And I find perfect beauty excessively boring, don't you?
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I suspect it may be like the difference between a drinker and an alcoholic the one merely reads books, the other needs books to make it through the day.
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What do you want? Sophronia was moved to exasperation. Me? Stockings and breeches to come back in fashion. I do miss seeing a man's calves.
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You do realise modern social mores exist for a reason? I was hungry, allowances should be made.
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A vampire, like a lady, never reveals his true age.
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Oh, dear me, no. Then I should be known as that vampire with all the cats.
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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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I am rather fond of ladybugs. They are so delightfully hemispherical.
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Lord Akeldama sighed. 'You lovebirds, how will I endure such flirtations constantly in my company? How déclassé, Lord Maccon, to love your own wife.
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Mrs. Loontwill did what any well-prepared mother would do upon finding her unmarried daughter in the arms of a gentleman werewolf: she had very decorous, and extremely loud, hysterics.
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These things, regrettably, are bound to occur when one is married and befriended.
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Oh, Professor Lyall, are you making a funny? It doesn’t suit you.” The sandy-haired Beta gave Lady Maccon a dour look. “I am exploring new personality avenues.” “Well, stop it.” “Yes, my lady.
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