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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.

Gail Carriger

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Gail Carriger
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: May 4
Archaeologist
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Bolinas
California
Three
Hardest
Grateful
Librarians
Independent
Acknowledgement
Teacher
Bookstores
Least
Librarian
Written
Appreciated
Word
Teachers
Working
Thanks

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...Tunstell was not what one could describe as call subtle. His flaming red hair bobbed up with each pointed and articulated footstep as though he were some cloaked Gothic villain creeping across a stage.
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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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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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The ill-informed masses included her own family among their ranks, a family that specialized in being both inconvenient and asinine.
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Tunstell, this is your Alpha speaking. Do as I tell you. You must regurgitate now. Regurgitation is an involuntary action. You cannot simply order me to do it,” replied Tunstell in a small voice. “I most certainly can. Besides which, you are an actor.” Tunstell grimaced. “I’ve never had cause to vomit onstage.
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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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She was no closer to determining who might want her dead. There were just too many possibilities.
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Alexia,” she hissed to her friend, “there are knees positively everywhere. What do I do?
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[She] lost her patience, a thing she was all too prone to misplacing.
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I am entirely capable. Of what, waddling up to someone and ruthlessly bumping into them?
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I never gossip. I observe. And then relay my observations to practically everyone.
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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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Rail is such an undignified way to travel. All that rapid racing about. Floating has so much more gravitas.
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Poetry can cause irreparable harm when misapplied
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And I find perfect beauty excessively boring, don't you?
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I am rather fond of ladybugs. They are so delightfully hemispherical.
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Classic author moment, Oh dear, did I kill that character or not?
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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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You do realise modern social mores exist for a reason? I was hungry, allowances should be made.
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Who doesn’t want an exploding wicker chicken?
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