Gail Carriger
Gail Carriger
Gail Carriger is the pen name of Tofa Borregaard, an archaeologist and author of steampunk fiction. She was born in Bolinas, an unincorporated community in Marin County, California, and attended high school at Marin Academy. She received her undergraduate degree from Oberlin College, a masters of science in archaeological materials at England's Nottingham University in 2000, and a master of arts in anthropologyat the University of California Santa Cruz in 2008...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionWriter
Date of Birth4 May 1976
CountryUnited States of America
Really, Sophronia, it makes me most uncomfortable how you manage to sort everything out every time I faint.
He dinna act like an Alpha." "He does in some areas.
I Preserve the nonviable embryo in formaldehyde for future study. Lord Maccon has been drinking my samples. When confronted, he admitted to be enjoying both the refreshing beverage and the 'crunchy pickled snack' as well. I was not pleased" (Professor Lyall to Madame Lefoux)
Lord Akeldama sighed. 'You lovebirds, how will I endure such flirtations constantly in my company? How déclassé, Lord Maccon, to love your own wife.
These feelings you engender in me, my lord, are most indelicate. You should stop causing them immediately.
My Hallway" remarked Lord Akeldama,"Has never seen such lively action. And That, my sugarplums, is saying something!
And I find perfect beauty excessively boring, don't you?
I suppose that saves us from having to determine what to do with a butler who goes around killing people. It certainly reflects badly upon our domestic staff. Still, I shall miss him. There was a man who knew how to brew a good cup of tea.
Scotsmen, she had occasion to observe, often did have nice knees. Perhaps that was why they insisted upon kilts.
Alexia abhorred hypocrisy, especially when munitions were involved.
I never gossip. I observe. And then relay my observations to practically everyone.
It was a constant source of amazement to Alexia that the only thing she had ever done in her entire life that pleased her mama was marry a werewolf.
Lady Maccon.” “By George, Boots! How the deuce can you possibly tell that there is Lady Maccon?” queried the other top-hated gentleman. “Who else would be standing in the middle of a street on full-moon night with a raging ruddy fire behind her, waving a parasol about?” “Good point, good point.
The Pantechnicon stored and distributed a good deal of furniture as well. The very idea of a lady of good breeding visiting such a place. There would be tables lying about, on their sides, naked! Not to mention flaccid dirigibles! Alexia shuddered at the very idea.