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A vampire, like a lady, never reveals his true age.

Gail Carriger

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Gail Carriger
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: May 4
Archaeologist
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Bolinas
California
Reveals
Vampire
Lady
Age
True
Never
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More quotes by Gail Carriger

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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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The important question is, what will your wear for a wedding dress, Alexia? You look horrible in white.
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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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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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Captain Niall, having apparently resigned himself to losing his quarry, was savaging her horsehair petticoat into teeny, tiny shreds. Really, what did my poor petticoat do to offend?
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Alexia suspected Lord Maccon's handling was a tad more than was strictly called for under the circumstances, but she secretly enjoyed the sensation. After all, how often did a spinster of her shelf life get manhandled by an earl of Lord Maccon's peerage? She had better take advantage of the situation.
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And I find perfect beauty excessively boring, don't you?
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What have I done thins time? he paused to ask before continuing with his oral expedition about her body: her husband, the intrepid explorer.
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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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Alexia, did you know there is an entire regiment decamping on your front lawn? Laddy Maccon sighed. Really, Ivy, I would never have noticed.
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Classic author moment, Oh dear, did I kill that character or not?
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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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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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Cats were not, in her experience, an animal with much soul. Prosaic, practical little creatures as a general rule. It would suit her very well to be thought catlike.
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You are about as covert as a sledgehammer.
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Ah, Lady Maccon, how lovely. I did wonder when you would track us down.” “I was unavoidably delayed by husbands and Ivys,” explained Alexia. “These things, regrettably, are bound to occur when one is married and befriended.
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Lord Akeldama did so love to know all the gossip about the mundane world, but it was in the manner of a cat amusing himself among the butterflies without a need to interfere should their wings get torn off. They were only butterflies, after all.
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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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Poetry can cause irreparable harm when misapplied
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