OTT Friday

Demon Queen 1

Demon Queen 2

So…this outfit was going cheap–and it’s a bit mad–so how could I resist?

Image One: I’m happy with the lighting, though her upper arm and side are a bit wonky looking.

Then I thought…how could I ramp up the madness of the costume? Dragons were out. Hmm… Wings!! Everything is so much better with wings!

And the Demon Queen was born.

Image Two: Unexpectedly, I got a more photorealistic look for this image, which is incongruous for the subject matter (oh, my despairing art lecturers from a million years ago would be pleased with that sentence 😉 ).

I’ve still a long way to go in learning about lighting, obviously…but now there’s dForce stuff going cheap too. And that’s a whole new rabbit hole for me to fall down. Oh dear…

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Yes, I’m still fiddling about with covers…

Lightning in a Bottle

Rebecca Marwood is trapped in her guardian’s house, but something in the night draws her to the fire and steel of his exotic menagerie. And there she finds freedom in the strangest of places…

A short, steampunk and very naughty story you can buy from any of these places

Excerpt

My guardian had always thought me ignorant of the goings on in his house.

A vapid girl, alone in the world, who never noticed the dark robed men arriving in the dead of night. Or one who never wondered at the hints of sage and frankincense that drifted through the passages of his London town house in the early mornings. I knew, had known for quite some years that Henry Bellasis, Viscount Fauconberg was a warlock. And that he now planned to draw me into his world by offering my virginity to a stranger.

I wrapped my fingers around the great brass key, the pitted metal warming against my skin as I stood in the shadowed passage that led to the cellar door. The place where my guardian had bound his great secret.

Rumours from the footmen over the past week had run that Henry kept a dragon in the arched rooms that also housed his collection of metal automata. A great beast that steamed and groaned and licked fire into cook’s little parlour when the wind blew north.

The maids shared darker stories as they made the beds or took a pan and brush to the ashes in the hearths. The dragon bound in the cellar did more than steam and groan. One maid had blushed scarlet and admitted in a rushed whisper that her dreams were full of a great, dark beast. A wicked beast…with a wicked mouth.