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It's no good choosing your first husband from a school for evil geniuses. Much too difficult to kill.

Gail Carriger

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Gail Carriger
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: May 4
Archaeologist
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Bolinas
California
Firsts
Geniuses
First
Choosing
Much
Kill
Good
Husband
Genius
Evil
Difficult
School

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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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I'd rather be loyal than right.
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Very well, Lord Maccon. If we are going to play this particular hand, would you be interested in becoming my...” “Mistress?
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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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How ghastly for her, people actually thinking, with their brains, and right next door. Oh, the travesty of it all.
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But I don't want to be a vampire drone.' Sophronia winced. 'They'll suck my blood and make me wear only the very latest fashions.
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Biffy didn't like enigmas - they were out of fashion.
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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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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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He was so very large and so very gruff that he rather terrified her, but he always behaved correctly in public, and there was a lot to be said for a man who sported such well-tailored jackets---even if he did change into a ferocious beast once a month.
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Uh, my lord, I am not actually food. You do realize this, yes?
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Oh, Lady Maccon, I am unreservedly in love with her. That black hair, that sweet disposition, those capital hats.
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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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She moved with such purpose it was as though she walked with exclamation marks.
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I love him so very much. As Romeo did Jugurtha, as Pyramid did Thirsty, as- Oh, please, no need to elaborate further, interjected Alexia, wincing. But what would my family SAY to such a union? They would say that yours hats had leaked into your head, muttered Alexia, unheard under her breath.
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His lordship can eat my fat—
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Floote, what is going on? Do they think I am contagious? Should I assure them I was born with a nose this size?
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Classic author moment, Oh dear, did I kill that character or not?
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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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