Soulless (Parasol Protectorate, #1)

by Gail Carriger

To put the pudding in the puff: she had retreated to the library, her favorite sanctuary in any house, only to happen upon an unexpected vampire.

She certainly had an identity and a heart that felt emotions and all that; she simply had no soul. Miss Alexia, age six, had nodded politely at the nice silver-haired gentleman. Then she had made certain to read oodles of ancient Greek philosophy dealing with reason, logic, and ethics. If she had no soul, she also had no morals, so she reckoned she had best develop some kind of alternative.

Is this trying to be clever ARO rep?

She was not undead, mind you; she was a living, breathing human but was simply… lacking.

So Alexia, whose nose really wasn’t that big and whose skin really wasn’t that tan, had gone on the shelf at fifteen.

while preternatural men were rare, preternatural woman were practically nonexistent.

he stroked her face with his free hand, as though she were an animal that needed soothing. Alexia wondered what he thought of her as—a cat perhaps? Cats were not, in her experience, an animal with much soul. Prosaic, practical little creatures as a general rule. It would suit her very well to be thought catlike.

we vampires tend to have an unfettered approach to the concept of mental health.” He twiddled his fingers in the air. “One’s moral clarity goes a little fuzzy after the first two centuries or so.”

Clad only in his sleeping robe, she took the vampire firmly by the hand and led him up through the splendor of his gilt house and out onto the rooftop into the waning light. Alexia rested her cheek on his shoulder, and they stood silently together and watched the sun set over the city. Lord Akeldama refrained from pointing out she would be late for her own wedding. Miss Tarabotti refrained from pointing out that he was crying. She figured it was a good way to end her career as a spinster.