Editrix extraordinaire Kristina Wright creates a lush and fantastical world of women-centered stories and romantic scenarios, first for steampunk fiction. Fetishizing the wardrobe, language, fantasy and rituals of steampunk, Steamlust includes alternate histories, second worlds, time travel and contemporary settings.
"Wright’s anthology of sizzling steampunk romance is a sensual, passionate, and humorous collection of alternate histories, fantastical worlds, and time travel romps. The heroines are strong-willed, intelligent, technologically savvy, and elegant in their fashionable corsets. Some are attracted to men who are half-machine, as in Sylvia Day’s “Iron Hard,” Christine d’Abo’s “The Undeciphered Heart,” and Nikki Magennis’s “Make Your Own Miracles.” Others are seduced by the wonders of flying airships and robots in Saskia Walker’s “Heart of the Daedalus” and Sacchi Green’s “Fog, Flight and Moonlight.” There are same-sex affairs aplenty; the best is Anya Richards’s powerful “Rescue My Heart.” Not content to titillate, these passionate vignettes will also satisfy steampunk fans intellectually with nuanced discussions of self-sufficient women and the roles that machines play in our lives." (Nov.)—Publisher's Weekly, Reviewed on: 09/12/2011
"With a foreword by Meljean Brook and an introduction by the editor, this erotic paean to steampunk captures many aspects of the genre. Expect the unexpected, whether it is the baron’s mechanical arm in Sylvia Day’s Regency, “Iron Hard,” or Saskia Walker’s walking insect-like creation in “Heart of the Daedalus,” set after the Crimean war. Each story has its fair share of sex in addition to the invention that is out of place and time." —RT Reviews
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Here's a snippet from my story:
It had been a fanciful artistic creation, but seeing it constructed in solid metal took Nina's breath away. Awestruck, she made her way around the machine. At the side she heard the low throb of the combustion engine. She ran her hand along the underbelly and felt its heat. Smiling fondly, she felt as if she had been reunited with long-lost kin. She'd come there angry, possessive and thwarted, and yet seeing her design realized as a complete construction made her hands tremble with excitement.Amazon UK
At the rear she found a metal ladder that dropped from the vessel to the ground. She hitched her skirts and clambered up. Cautiously, she opened the hatch. Inside was gloomy but towards the front of the pod an oil lamp stood on a brass surface, giving out a warm, inviting light. She paused, still wary, but heard no sound other than the low rumble of the combustion engine in dormant mode. Unable to resist, she climbed inside.
Nothing could have prepared her for the beauty of the interior. Where solid sheets of sturdy welded metal characterized the exterior, inside it was all gleaming brass dials and copper pipes. The construction was immaculate and finished to a high standard. She stepped over to the control panel and ran her fingers along the casement. She was so fascinated that she did not sense the human presence behind her, not until it was too late. When she did she tensed and turned on her heel.
The man rose from a seat in the darkness beyond the hatch.
Her hand went to the pommel of her sword.
"What have we here," the man drawled, "a thief in the night who dares to touch my precious creation?"
The statement was meant to provoke, she knew that. Nevertheless her anger flared. "I am no thief." She drew her sword, pointing it around the gleaming interior of the Daedalus. "What is this, if not theft of my design?"
He laughed softly.
She assumed an en garde position, challenging him.
He stepped into the fall of light. Built tall and large, he towered over her. She cast an eye over his greatcoat and polished knee-length boots, taking in the fitted breeches and open necked shirt beneath. His dark hair fell loosely to his shoulders and his eyes were shadowed under drawn-down brows. Stubble marked his jaw. The rugged build of his features looked starker still in the half light. The sight of him made her will strong and her legs weak.
"Thief!" she declared.
He moved swiftly, his sword out and clashing against hers. "And you?" he responded, with amusement. "Lurking on the marshes in the midnight hours, like a common smuggler." With consummate skill he traded thrusts and parries with her, his blade ringing against hers.
Her heart raced wildly, but gritty determination to equal him drove her on.
He nodded approvingly at her maneuvers. "I have to admit your fencing has improved somewhat since our last meeting, my dear."
Nina smiled. She had been taking lessons. However his compliment distracted her and before she could draw breath he knocked the sword from her hand. Cursing, she glared at him. His blade flashed again, splicing the fabric of her bodice between her breasts.
Furious, she backed away and clutched her hands to the polished brass panel behind her. "Dishonorable as ever, I see, Dominic Bartleby."
"Particularly where you are concerned, my beauty." He ran the tip of his finely crafted blade into the torn fabric at her cleavage, as if daring her to move.
In an attempt to stifle the rise and fall of her chest, she bit into her lower lip. When the blade skimmed over the surface of her corset, a quiet moan escaped her.
Dominic raised an eyebrow, his mouth lifting in a sardonic smile.
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