Who is The Doctor? Well, in this case he’s certainly not Doctor Who. The Doctor is my Victorian medical professional and his adventures with scientific companions. I’d like to think that if H.G. Wells were alive today and not of sound mind then it’s the sort of thing he’d come up with.
I opened the door as the echo of the ringing bell finally faded to nothing in the stone hallway and was instantly blinded by the sunshine that flowed in and around the silhouette of a buxom young woman standing there. I blinked and shielded my eyes. “Albert’s girth!” I exclaimed. […]
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“I put it to you Mr Hawkes that this is the gravest danger we have ever faced.” I was most adamant on this fact and jabbed my finger in his general direction even as I jutted out my chin to check for stubble growth in the reflection afforded by the […]
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It was later in the week and my memories of the astounding adventure with the Leopard Ladies of Mercury was beginning to diminish. Everyday events were returning to normal in ravaged London and my mind was distracted constantly by the steady stream of survivors of the damage inflicted in and […]
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I arrived at Carruthers’ domicile in the fashionably decrepit part of South London with a severe case of butterflies in the stomach. It was my own fault for taking a shortcut through the 1889 Lepidopterist Gala in The Regent’s Park; oh, but how those Red Admirals entice the tastebuds! I […]
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