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My petal. Westminster’s toy had tea issues. Thank Biffy and Lyall. Toodle pip. A.

Gail Carriger

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Gail Carriger
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: May 4
Archaeologist
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Bolinas
California
Tea
Thank
Issues
Petal
Westminster
Petals
Toys

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And I find perfect beauty excessively boring, don't you?
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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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She took a moment to lament her lack of parasol. Every time she left the house, she felt keenly the absence of her heretofore ubiquitous accessory.
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I am rather fond of ladybugs. They are so delightfully hemispherical.
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Lyall understood a broken heart, but it could not be allowed to rumple perfectly good shirtwaists.
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She moved with such purpose it was as though she walked with exclamation marks.
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Even Alexia, spinster that she was, was given an allowance large enough to dress her to the height of fashion— although she did tend to stick to trends a little too precisely. The poor thing could not help it. Her choice of clothing simply lacked soul.
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I'd rather be loyal than right.
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Really, Channing,” remonstrated Alexia, “did you have to eat the man’s dog? I am convinced you will experience terrible indigestion.
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Steampunk is...the love child of Hot Topic and a BBC costume drama
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I had a recent delivery of new fashion plates from Paris, and you hardly glanced at the hairstyles. My husband tells me you are still having difficulty controlling the change. And your cravat has been tied very simply of late, even for evening events.
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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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Lord Maccon was built like a brick outhouse, with opinions twice as unmoving and often equally full of crap.
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I am entirely capable. Of what, waddling up to someone and ruthlessly bumping into them?
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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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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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Alexia gave in to his demanding touch, but only, of course, because he sounded so pathetic. It had nothing, whatsoever to do with her own quickening heartbeat.
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Madame Lefoux shrugged. I do not know about that, my lady. I mean to say, one's life is one thing one's technology is an entirely different matter.
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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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It's no good choosing your first husband from a school for evil geniuses. Much too difficult to kill.
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