Jun. 22nd, 2010

[identity profile] erynn999.livejournal.com
Title: Jeeves and the Midnight Raid
Author: Mice
Pairing: Bertie/Jeeves
Rating: R
Words: 25,700
Summary: When Jeeves is injured in a midnight raid on a New York speakeasy, dangerous secrets are revealed. Bertie decides that Precautions Must Be Taken and things change drastically in the Wooster household.
Disclaimer: I don't own a damned thing. This is all for the sake of my perverse amusement. No newts were harmed in the production of this story.
Author's Notes: Happyjoyful beta and cheerleading by [livejournal.com profile] queen_fiend.
The 1920s were relatively good years for homosexuals in New York City. Prohibition brought all kinds and classes to the speakeasies to mingle freely. In this fertile soil, speakeasies called "pansy clubs" catered to the homosexual community, featuring female impersonators and costumed balls where homosexuals could dance together openly. These clubs became so popular that the rich and famous attended to watch the spectacle. In January of 1931, after a gangland shooting at Club Abbey, everything changed.

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[identity profile] goldfeathers-hq.livejournal.com

What ho, all.

You may or may not remember me from a fic I posted some good ages ago. I was unsatisfied with the way it turned out, and sought to revamp and reprise it. Then my actual life kicked in again and I was forced to put it on the backburner. I remember receiving a very gracious offer to Beta the fic as it was then, by one of your very own... but since I was rather careless in deleting my unworthy entry and all that came with it, I have forgotten said offerer's name. I will give out further detail on the story outline itself as requested, but really all of importance I can serve now is this:

This is designed to be one for the long run. As in long, like above 50.000 perhaps above 100.000 depending how it all runs. Since I am the slowest writer in all of the land (having produced but a meagre 3329 words in three days), I would never bombard you with endless tomes to catch up with and we might be stuck together for a long time. And I will not post this thing until the last period sits on the paper: We, her resident majesty the Queen of procrastination, would never, ever finish the blasted thing.

So, I guess if you think this might fit your bill, let me know? I have little to offer other than the gratification of knowing that you've made a literate fool just that bit less foolish... does that cut it for you?

Sincerely,

Goldfeathers.  
  

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