Here’s to you, Mr. Caligari

So I decided that in the spirit of fun and Monday morning, I’d post a teensy little snippet of the WIP.  This is a brand new steampunk erotica story aptly titled “The First Gentlemen’s Club on the Moon.”  I began thinking about this story a couple of years ago at Alan Wold’s writers’ workshop at ConCarolinas.  It had been on the backburner for a while until finally a couple of weeks ago, it started to take shape.  The main character is a young widow named Winifred Shrewsbury.  Freddy is swept off  her feet by Micajah Caligari, an inventor and explorer, who has a most unusual proposition for her…

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It was at Mr. Shrewsbury’s funeral when I first met Micajah Caligari.  He was standing there in the rain, staring roguishly at me from under his unobtrusive hat.  I didn’t recognize him, but after all, I didn’t meddle too much in the affairs of my late husband.  He was probably some business associate, though it seemed strange that I’d never met
him.  He stood alone on the edge of the crowd, hands folded behind his back, head down in the proper way of mourning.  He didn’t look like a Society type, nor was he Common.  Perhaps Nouveau Riche with his striped mourning coat and the shocking way he pulled out a cigarette and began smoking during the procession.  He caught my eye and winked, making me blush straight down to my toes.  I looked away quickly, turning my umbrella to block my field of vision.

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