Business Makes Strange Bedfellows by E. E. Ottoman

Author:E. E. Ottoman [Ottoman, E.E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Lesbian romance, gothic romance, fantasy
Publisher: Less Than Three Press, LLC
Published: 2014-10-28T16:00:00+00:00

The first thing she did when she returned to her own apartment in the early hours of the morning was go to her study and lock herself in.

She unlocked the cabinet in which she kept all her notes and charts and spread them out across her desk. The sun slowly rose outside her study window as she checked and rechecked her work. By the time Marion knocked on the door and asked if she wanted breakfast brought to her, she was sure. Through the use of electricity and alchemic elixirs, she would be able to reanimate enough essential organs to create a whole new form of life.

Marion knocked on the door again, and Gert strode to the door and opened it. "I would love breakfast to be brought to me in my study this morning, Marion," she said. "And then a bath to be drawn after that. I do not want to be disturbed. I will be working late today."

"Very good." Marion bobbed and curtsied and headed back down the hall towards the kitchen while Gert went back to her desk.

Could she? Did she dare? She stayed down at her notes and charts, but if she didn't, what good had been her life's research?

The door opened and Marion came in carrying a breakfast tray. She moved some of the more incriminating pages out of the way and stacked them under more mundane research on the desk.

"I'll run the bath." Marion put the tray on the desk and turned back towards the door. She reached for the silver coffee pot.

Once she had eaten, bathed, and changed into a fresh suit, she headed out to begin acquiring supplies. Since she'd become a patron and member of the Society, they had been able to afford cadavers for experimentation. They had, however, never been able to qualify through proper channels for the same quality of cadavers as Colombia. Instead they had to settle for corpses too old or damaged for Colombia University or any of New York's teaching hospitals.

This time she did not bother with proper channels. There were less reputable ways to acquire a body. It turned out there were plenty of people in New York willing to sell the body of their dearly departed straight off the deathbed, if the price was right.

The tiny old mortician she found on the Lower East Side of the island operated out of funeral parlor down a narrow, twisting alley did not ask why she wanted the bodies, and she did not ask him where he'd gotten them.

She could not have them brought the Society's labs. She also did not want to risk having them delivered to her apartment since she resided in a more upper class neighborhood and people would surely notice and talk.

There was a small slaughterhouse her parents had invested in at one point that was no longer functioning. She hadn't sold it yet because she'd always thought the facility would make a fine lab. She had the bodies sent to the address

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