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Writing

My first novel, Damnsels, is currently in the beta reading stage. It is a satrical steampunk melodrama about what the women who get tied to railroad tracks do on their days off.
The following is a brief excerpt.At that moment, the door to the jewelry shop was flung open by a man holding what looked very much like a standard net-launcher, but it was smoking.
“Everyone on the ground and give us your valuables!” he shouted. “No, wait, switch that. Give us your valuables and then get on the ground.”
“What valuables?” asked the shop-girl.
“This is a jewelry shop, isn’t it?” the scoundrel demanded.
“Yes,” said the shop-girl, “But all we sell is brass and paste.”
“You’d never know it to look at them, though,” said Rebecca reassuringly.
“Very well, then I’ll take what’s in the till.”
“If you wait for her to finish her purchase, it will be seventy-four cents more.”
“I’m not buying a comb with a clock gear on it!” Rebecca said crossly.
“I imagine it will also be more if the young lady turns out her reticule. And adds any jewels she might be wearing.”
“Sir, be reasonable.” said Rebecca. “If I was the sort of lady who owned any jewels, would I be shopping here of all places?”
Somewhat sheepishly, she turned back to the shop-girl.
“No offense meant, of course.”
“Oh, none taken. Those earrings cost the same as a pot of tea and won’t last as long.” said the shop-girl. The pirate wiped his brow in frustration, which rather upset the sit of his bowler hat.
“I do believe I said to get on the ground, and I do believe I am armed.” he said crossly.
“But you said to give you our valuables first.” said the shop-girl. “We aren’t finished with that.”
“You drop your reticule, you open the till, and everyone gets onto the ground. Unless there’s someone else with something to add to the situation?” the scoundrel asked crossly.With a small shatter of glass, a figure in white and blue burst through the window. The small figure rolled to his feet, popping up like a jack-in-the-box. As he shook glass out of his pale gold curls, crewman Hawkins and Rebecca locked eyes and recognized each other as the other member of their little adventure at the Demonstration. Hawkins turned pink.
“Oh, dear. You’re replacing your gloves, aren’t you?” he asked awkwardly.
A moment later, crewman Benton opened the door next to the now-broken window and stepped inside. He looked pointedly at his young friend for a moment, and turned his attention to the pirate.
“Give yourself up sir, the navy has arrived.” said Hawkins, straightening his back.
“Two young men hardly constitutes a navy.” said the pirate.
“It would if you believed my co-workers…” Rebecca commented.
“And you can shut up.” said the pirate crossly.
“Come come sir, that’s no way to speak to a lady.” tutted Benton.
“The day that an enlisted man can teach a gentleman manners is the day I hang up my cap as a villain.”
“Are you surrendering, then? Jolly good, that should make our job much easier.” beamed Hawkins.
“I will never surrender!”
“I’m sure there’s faster ways to get yourself killed than that.” the older sailor replied.“Give yourself up sir, the navy has this shop surrounded.” announced Hawkins. Benton looked puzzled.
“No, we don’t.”
“Ah, perhaps not at the moment, Benton,” Hawkins replied awkwardly, looking at the pirate rather than his companion, “But the rest of our brigade is getting into place, waiting for our sign to descend in force.”
“No, they aren’t.” said Benton, “We were off-duty, looking for a restaurant, you noticed this shop was being robbed, and then you jumped through the window.” Hawkins covered his eyes in embarrassment.
“Oh, you were lying!” Benton exclaimed, cottoning on. Hawkins shook his head, sighed, and tried again.
“Alright. There’s only two of us, but that’s twice as many as there are of you!”
“And… we’re also here.” Rebecca added, unsure whether or not that was actually helpful.
“And the ladies are also here, thank you, miss.” Hawkins agreed.
“It will take more than two men to take in captain Plunket!”
“Then we won’t wait for your captain to arrive!” said Benton. The robber frowned.
“That’s me. I’m captain Plunket.” he said, pointing to himself with his gun.
“Oh. Short wait, then.”
“You’ve never heard of the extraordinary captain Plunket?!” demanded Plunket, sounding offended.
“To be perfectly honest sir, no I haven’t.” admitted Hawkins.
“If you are a captain, sir, what ship do you fly?” asked Rebecca.
Plunket flushed with either anger or embarrassment, possibly both.
“I’m between ships at the moment.” he admitted. “Raising the capital was rather the idea in attacking what I had on very good authority was an excellent jeweller’s.”
“I think I know how he lost his ship.” said Rebecca to the shop-girl.
“This is absurd. I’m just going to start shooting people, is that all right?” said Plunket, and he started doing so before Rebecca could say she would much rather he didn’t.If you would like to become a beta reader, please email me at [email protected] for more details.

About the Artist

Miss Kathryne is an author, illustrator, and seamstress. She primarily works in India ink, Photoshop, cotton chintz and states of mild anxiety.She lives in New England with her sister, mother, and brother, the other artists from Studio at Four Oaks.She is pictured here in one of the dresses she has made for herself.

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