Scavengers: Collection - Books 1-4 (Zombie Gentlemen) (m/m zombie steampunk erotic romance) by K.A. Merikan
Authors: K.A. Merikan
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could almost look between her cleavage, enfolded in a bed of soft feathers that decorated the neckline of her dress. “Are you not feeling well?” she asked.
“No, no! I’m fine.” He looked out of the window. “We are almost there.”
“You know the city so well!” said Juanita in an appreciative tone. James couldn’t bring himself to think of her as a ‘Lady’, especially with being touched by her like that!
She had moved to London two years ago, after marrying Lord Shelley. Raised in Spain, she had only visited her mother’s native Britain two times before the Plague. Her breasts shook a bit, as the coach stumbled over something and James averted his gaze back to her face, feeling extremely uncomfortable. He wished she would take her hand off his thigh.
“Not all of its parts,” he felt the need to underline that fact.
“Oh, you are much too modest!” the woman exclaimed, pouting slightly.
“Modesty is a virtue,” he couldn’t help but say, even though it could have been considered an affront to Juanita’s dress.
“Perhaps you know where the Johners Walk is going to take place? We could watch it together,” she answered in a sweet tone.
“I do not think it will be a pleasurable thing to see,” he said and even the sole thought of the Witnesses of the Apocalypse, or ‘Johners’ as they were called, made him lose his temper and scowl.
“Oh, their postulates might be a bit over inflated, but I do believe that there is quite a lot of sense in it, actually,” Juanita stated, smiling sweetly. “After all, what do we have left now but ourselves?”
“I beg your pardon, Lady Shelley, but what is it that you mean? These people consider the Book of Revelation their guide in the new world. And what they mean by that is abandoning all hope and giving in to the Plague. I must admit those postulates do not appeal to me at all.” James shifted in his seat, waiting for the god forsaken carriage ride to be over.
“But don’t you agree that the situation is hopeless?” she breathed, slowly stroking his thigh. “We should be enjoying the time we have left. No need to think about further generations, as they will perish too.”
“I have no appreciation for such nonsense,” he said. “As nobility, we should be the ones setting a good example to both the lower classes and future generations. Johners ideas of going rampant are out of the question. Soon enough we will see them fornicating with the undead.” An expression of disgust was present on his face as he spoke.
“Good heavens!” she laughed in disbelief. “How in the world could you even imagine such a thing! Your mind cannot be as pure as you claim, my dear Lord Hurst!” she teased, fluttering her thick eyelashes.
James felt heat climb up his neck but to his luck, he was saved from answering as they finally arrived at the University of St Catherine. “Here we are!” His smile was a bit stiff but he felt relieved nonetheless. The institution was situated in a large complex of elegant neo-gothic buildings with tall windows and numerous stone decorations on the elevation.
“Oh... that was not very far,” Lady Hunt said, sliding her delicate hand from his knee in a slow stroke.
He was so relieved, in fact, he exhaled quite loudly. “It is not,” he agreed, “but I did not want you to walk through those dirty streets.”
The coachman appeared behind the window and opened the door for them. “St Catherine’s,” he informed, with a short bow.
Because the air in the city had become so dirty in recent years, everyone that could afford it wore protective masks, both for the sake of appearance and health. That being so, James donned his elegant gas mask made from brown leather, to match his shoes. He was the first one to leave the steam carriage and once outside, he held out his hand to Lady Shelley. Her mask was covered with a layer of nacre and shaped like a canary’s beak. Instead of putting it on, she held it by her face
“No, no! I’m fine.” He looked out of the window. “We are almost there.”
“You know the city so well!” said Juanita in an appreciative tone. James couldn’t bring himself to think of her as a ‘Lady’, especially with being touched by her like that!
She had moved to London two years ago, after marrying Lord Shelley. Raised in Spain, she had only visited her mother’s native Britain two times before the Plague. Her breasts shook a bit, as the coach stumbled over something and James averted his gaze back to her face, feeling extremely uncomfortable. He wished she would take her hand off his thigh.
“Not all of its parts,” he felt the need to underline that fact.
“Oh, you are much too modest!” the woman exclaimed, pouting slightly.
“Modesty is a virtue,” he couldn’t help but say, even though it could have been considered an affront to Juanita’s dress.
“Perhaps you know where the Johners Walk is going to take place? We could watch it together,” she answered in a sweet tone.
“I do not think it will be a pleasurable thing to see,” he said and even the sole thought of the Witnesses of the Apocalypse, or ‘Johners’ as they were called, made him lose his temper and scowl.
“Oh, their postulates might be a bit over inflated, but I do believe that there is quite a lot of sense in it, actually,” Juanita stated, smiling sweetly. “After all, what do we have left now but ourselves?”
“I beg your pardon, Lady Shelley, but what is it that you mean? These people consider the Book of Revelation their guide in the new world. And what they mean by that is abandoning all hope and giving in to the Plague. I must admit those postulates do not appeal to me at all.” James shifted in his seat, waiting for the god forsaken carriage ride to be over.
“But don’t you agree that the situation is hopeless?” she breathed, slowly stroking his thigh. “We should be enjoying the time we have left. No need to think about further generations, as they will perish too.”
“I have no appreciation for such nonsense,” he said. “As nobility, we should be the ones setting a good example to both the lower classes and future generations. Johners ideas of going rampant are out of the question. Soon enough we will see them fornicating with the undead.” An expression of disgust was present on his face as he spoke.
“Good heavens!” she laughed in disbelief. “How in the world could you even imagine such a thing! Your mind cannot be as pure as you claim, my dear Lord Hurst!” she teased, fluttering her thick eyelashes.
James felt heat climb up his neck but to his luck, he was saved from answering as they finally arrived at the University of St Catherine. “Here we are!” His smile was a bit stiff but he felt relieved nonetheless. The institution was situated in a large complex of elegant neo-gothic buildings with tall windows and numerous stone decorations on the elevation.
“Oh... that was not very far,” Lady Hunt said, sliding her delicate hand from his knee in a slow stroke.
He was so relieved, in fact, he exhaled quite loudly. “It is not,” he agreed, “but I did not want you to walk through those dirty streets.”
The coachman appeared behind the window and opened the door for them. “St Catherine’s,” he informed, with a short bow.
Because the air in the city had become so dirty in recent years, everyone that could afford it wore protective masks, both for the sake of appearance and health. That being so, James donned his elegant gas mask made from brown leather, to match his shoes. He was the first one to leave the steam carriage and once outside, he held out his hand to Lady Shelley. Her mask was covered with a layer of nacre and shaped like a canary’s beak. Instead of putting it on, she held it by her face
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