"Venusian?" the woman asked, poppy smoke curling out of her nostrils. She took another drag on the cigarette and glanced over her shoulder at the spare, short man with a big nose standing respectfully behind her. He smiled, displaying blunt, nicotine-colored teeth.Joshua M. Reynolds is a freelance writer affiliated with Pulpwork Press. He lives with his wife in London and maintains a LiveJournal and the blog Hunting Monsters.
"Martian, Countess Felluci."
"Of course. So easy to get those fellows confused, donchaknow." She looked up at the strange, metal mechanism hanging from the ceiling of the dirigible hangar and waved a gloved hand for emphasis. She wore military jodhpurs and a lavender Hussar's jacket, buttoned to the neck. Leather gloves and knee-high riding boots completed the ensemble. It contrasted sharply to the little man's own rather hum-drum appearance. He could've been a banker or a lawyer, rather than a scientist...
[via Joel Jenkins of The Vaults of Caladrex]
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