Wednesday, October 22, 2025

A Very Fine Place by Julia Winter ~ Blog Tour ~ Deleted Scene!

Hello, friends! Today, I have a deleted scene to share with you from A Very Fine Place by Julia Winter!



 


A Very Fine Place
by Julia Winter

Expected eBook Publication Date: October 17, 2015
Pages: 387, Kindle Edition
Category: P&P variation, Regency romance.
Publisher: Glass Hat Press © 2025
Editor: Megan Reddaway


About The Book

“Once may be chance. Twice may be ill luck. But thrice? Thrice, lad, is malice.” 

      1811. Calcutta. Fitzwilliam Darcy of His Majesty’s War and Colonial Office is stewing in the humid heat, when word comes that his father is dead. He must return to England immediately to take up his inheritance.
 
     Pemberley.
 
     The great house in Derbyshire that has never been his home. Instead, it’s home to the stepmother and half-siblings, Hugh and Georgiana, whom he barely knows.
 
     Pemberley is his now, but an atmosphere of resentment and anger threads through every room. He isn’t welcome. His stepmother is cool towards him, Hugh hates ‘the usurper’… and when a series of incidents threaten Darcy’s life, the only people he can trust are John Reid, his right-hand man throughout his career; Charles Bingley, his aide in India; George Wickham, his cousin and Pemberley’s steward; and Elizabeth Bennet, his stepmother’s penniless niece.
 
     Who is trying to kill him? Will the visit of the Bingley family frighten off the enemy, or just provide more opportunities to get rid of the new master of Pemberley? Most of all, can Darcy and Elizabeth come to an understanding that will, finally, make Pemberley feel like home? 

     (NB British spelling, punctuation and grammar throughout).

Cover: Detail from a portrait by Sir Thomas Lawrence of Mrs Charles Fraser, 1817 (Philadelphia Museum of Art).  

A Deleted Scene

It’s a sad truth that not everything makes it into the final version. Sometimes a poor author has to be ruthless in cutting out scenes that, while they were fun to write, don’t advance the plot or show the characters’ development.

In this scene, set just before Darcy, the Bingleys, Jane and Lizzy go to Buxton to attend a concert and an assembly, Lydia and Elizabeth have a little difference of opinion. It was cut because Lydia’s eventual fate took a different turn than I originally planned, so I offer it up here because I rather like this Lydia and it was a shame to have to cut her out.

     “I do not in the least understand why you care about some woman warbling in Italian,” Lydia said from the comfort of Elizabeth’s bed, where she was sprawled amongst the pillows while Elizabeth packed for Buxton.
     Kitty and Georgiana were with the art master, and since Lydia had no talent in that direction she had decided to utilise what talents she did have. Skilled with her needle and having an eye for colour, she was fond of going through her sisters’ wardrobes and bullying them into refreshing their clothing.
     Now she offered languid approbation for one of Elizabeth’s evening dresses, and added “I do wish I could go to the assembly, though! I think it very unfair that Georgiana is allowed to attend. She is not out either.”
     “She will not be permitted to dance, but will sit with Aunt Darcy.” Elizabeth smiled at her youngest sister. “I know it is hard to wait, Lyddy. But we will do the best we can for you when it is your time. Then, when we attend an assembly, you may dance every set.”
     “George said he would dance my first dances with me. I hope he will not forget.” Lydia bounced up from the bed as the maid brought the emerald green ball gown from the wardrobe. “Oh, Lizzy! Is that the silk Mr Darcy gave you? The… what was the word… the sarry he brought from India?”
     “Sari. Yes.”
     “It is very striking, and a perfect shade for you. I saw the ones he gave Georgiana, of course, but those are so milk-and-water compared to this. Not in the least out of the way. They will not draw the eye.”
     “He was careful to choose colours for her that suited her age.”
     “They would not suit me.” Lydia touched the silk carefully, running a fingertip over the metallic gold braid. “This would.”
     “Perhaps you will inherit it one day, and can make it over.” Elizabeth glanced at the maid and, with a smile, sent her to assist Jane. They would leave for Buxton immediately after the noon meal.
     She folded the green silk carefully, Lydia unaccustomedly eager to proffer assistance, and between them they laid the gown into the small trunk Elizabeth was taking with her, as reverent as a pair of Vestals handling a relic.
     Lydia patted the silk and sighed. “So lovely. What colour is Jane’s?”
     “Blue and silver.”
     “Oh, perfect.” Lydia gave her a complicit little smile. “You will both quite outshine Miss Bingley.”
     Although Lydia had not seen the woman since the day of the Bingleys’ arrival, she had evidently no great veneration for the Darcys’ guest. Not that Elizabeth blamed her. That Miss Bingley considered herself above the Bennets was obvious, purely on the grounds of having a large dowry and being educated at a ladies’ seminary. Elizabeth had never told her youngest sisters of overhearing the woman at dinner the night of the Bingleys’ arrival, putting down the girls as ‘lowly estate children’ or something of the kind, but she had heard it and it had rankled. Dreadful woman! Elizabeth had been glad there was little opportunity for the paths of the schoolroom and the Bingleys to cross. She had little faith in Lydia’s ability to restrain herself if subjected to such barbs.
     It seemed her clever little sister had weighed up Miss Bingley on that first encounter, for she now smiled up at Elizabeth from where she knelt before the trunk. “You are much prettier than she is, Lizzy. In that dress, you will shine.” She closed the lid and locked it, handing Elizabeth the key. “Of course, I am prettier than you, and livelier. In that dress, I would be magnificent.”
     “You are incorrigible.”
     “If I knew what it meant, I would likely agree.” Lydia sat back on her heels and regarded her, head tilted to one side. “Lizzy, have you seen George today?”
     Elizabeth looked away, searching for her reticule to stow the key away safely. “Ah… no. Not for two days now. He has been busy, I expect. He is looking for an estate for Mr Bingley to lease.”
     “He looks very sad, and said he was no longer going to Buxton with you. Is it because of old Mr Wickham, do you think? What a pity! In your place, I would be cross. Who will you dance the first set with, if not George?”
     “I do not know.” She had already tucked several linen handkerchiefs into the trunk, but Elizabeth felt compelled to turn her back on Lydia to search out more in a drawer, intending to stuff them into her reticule along with the trunk key. “I shall have to hope some other gentleman will step into the breach.”
     “In your place, I would show more feeling.” Lydia flung an arm towards the window and the view of the parkland stretching up to the distant hills. “After all, what other opportunity is there for you here, if not George? We are abandoned here in this remote place, and it is not as though we are overrun with likely prospects for husbands! Do you see a line of beaus riding up to claim us?” She snorted, and sighed again. “Jane might get this Mr Bingley, I suppose. What do you think?”
     “That it is for Jane to decide her happiness. Although,”—and here Elizabeth gave her most testing little sister a smile—“I do not think his sisters even close to being the equal of mine. In Jane’s place, I would hope he marries off one as quickly as may be, and encourages the other to return to her husband’s estate.”
     “Lord, yes! I would not like to live with such Friday-faced creatures. I hope they have the lives they deserve.” Lydia frowned. “And speaking of sad faces, I have never seen George so despondent. He usually cheers me, you know, when I am cross about living in such an out-of-the-way place, or not being allowed to dance at assemblies. Today, he barely looked up from his ledgers and had almost nothing to say to me.”
     Silence.
     “Lizzy. What did you do, Lizzy?”
     “Nothing. I did nothing. Why do you suppose it is anything to do with me?”
     “Because George thinks everything is to do with you, you ninny. You must know that.” Lydia scrambled to her feet. Good lord, but she was too sharp to bear. “You have been quiet too, now I think on it. What have you done, Lizzy?”
     “I have nothing to say. Please do not press me on this. It is no one’s business but my own.”
     “It is my business if you have hurt George. Do you not love him, Lizzy?”
     Silence.
     “How can you not?” Lydia’s tone was hard now. Condemning. Angry. “I would have him in an instant, and not because there are so few opportunities for us. George is marvellous, and you are blind if you cannot see it! You must make it right with him. You must!”
     “I will not discuss this with you.”
     “I will tell Mamma. She will never believe you have turned off any suitor, much less George! She will take to her bed for a week if you upset her like this.”
     “Mamma has nothing to say to the matter, any more than do you.”
     “How selfish and unfeeling you are.” Lydia sneered. She did it rather well. “George will not regret you long. How could he, knowing you have no heart?”
     The door slammed behind her with such force, it rocked on its hinges.

About the Author

Once Julia was a communications specialist working with several UK government departments. These days she's thankfully free of all that, and writing full time. She lives in the depths of the Nottinghamshire countryside with her husband and Mavis, a Yorkie-Bichon cross with a bark several times bigger than she is.

Contact Julia

 Website  |  Bluesky  |  Facebook 

Email: juliawinterfiction@gmail.com

Book Links

Amazon US *(paid link) • Amazon UK

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Thank you, Julia, for stopping by today, and congratulations on the release of A Very Fine Place!

Oh my, Lydia is always a great source of entertainment! Haha! Hmmm...Elizabeth must know something about George that Lydia doesn't! 😉  Please, leave a comment with your thoughts! 


Monday, September 22, 2025

Captain Wentworth ... In His Own Words by Shannon Winslow ~ Blog Tour ~ Spotlight & Excerpt!

Hello, my friends! It's been almost a year since I posted! Time flies, doesn't it? I'm back to share Shannon Winslow's newest book, Captain Wentworth ... In His Own Words. This is the fourth book in her In His Own Words series.





Captain Wentworth 
... in his own words
by Shannon Winslow

Publication Date: Sept. 18th, 2025
Pages: 320, Kindle Edition

Book Blurb:  Captain Wentworth has a lot of explaining to do! Why did he fly off in such an unreasonable rage when Anne tried to put their engagement on hold? And why didn’t he come back to try her again as soon as he was more financially secure? So much time wasted! What about his bad behavior when they met again years later – flirting with the Musgrove girls right in front of Anne? Was that really necessary? 

Find the answers in Captain Wentworth in His Own Words. Catch a glimpse of his difficult childhood, and learn how he ended up in the Navy so young. Witness his first meeting with Anne, their falling in love, and tragic parting. Sail along on his daring adventures at sea. Before he meets Anne again, Captain Wentworth has travelled the globe. He’s risen to riches and respect. Yet, he’s still missing the one thing needed to crown all his other success: the woman he’s never stopped loving. 

This is not a variation from but a supplement to the original story of Persuasion, chronicled in Wentworth’s point of view. It’s a behind-the-scenes look at the things Jane Austen didn’t tell us about one of her most iconic heroes.
 
Excerpt

Might it have been better had I simply refused to go to the wedding that day? I have asked myself that question a thousand times, for that is where I met Anne Elliot. Had I not gone, our paths would in all probability never have crossed. I would have left Somersetshire and returned to sea with my heart and my confidence still intact, and with my conscience untroubled as well. Despite how things have turned out, however, to wish now that we had never met seems monstrous, as if I contemplated cancelling the finest woman I have ever known out of existence… out of my existence at least. How could I do that when I still love her?

That is the unhappy fact of the matter, which I lately have been forced to concede; I am still in love with Anne Elliot… even after the insult of her rejection, even after the devastating blow to my pride, and even after the more than eight years and a half of our separation following. One would think the flame would have guttered and died long ago with nothing to fuel it any longer. I meant for it to do so; I meant that I should forget Anne entirely. I convinced myself that I had, nearly, and that it would be safe to see her once again.

I was wrong. One look at her at Uppercross, and, against my will, the buried sparks immediately began to smolder again.

And to think it all started with a simple decision to attend a wedding. Once there, the introduction to Anne Elliot could hardly have been avoided. It fell quite literally straight into my hands.



About the Author


Shannon Winslow approaches writing JAFF a little differently, adding onto rather than varying from canon, giving us prequel, sequel, and supplemental views of favorite characters. Shannon, who has authored eleven Austenesque novels so far, lives with her husband in the log home they built in the countryside south of Seattle, where she writes and paints in her studio facing Mt. Rainier. Visit her at her website/blog and follow her on Facebook.



Book Links


Amazon* (paid link)

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Thank you so much for including me in your blog tour, Shannon! And congratulations on your new book! 



I, for one, am glad Wentworth went to that wedding and met Anne Elliot! What are your thoughts?  Please feel free to leave a comment, and thanks for stopping by!

Wednesday, October 9, 2024

"Mr. Bingley: Just as a Gentleman Ought to Be" by Brandon Dragan ~ Blog Tour & Excerpt

Hello, my friends! I'm excited to be part of this book tour, Mr. Bingley: Just as a Gentleman Ought to Be by Brandon Dragan!

I hope you enjoy the excerpt below!






Mr. Bingley: Just as a Gentleman Ought to Be
by Brandon Dragan

ABOUT THE BOOK 

For centuries Jane Austen's classic novel, Pride & Prejudice, has been dearly loved the world over. However, few people know the truth about Mr. Darcy's closest friend, the affable Mr. Bingley–who is much more than he appears on first impression.  

Mr. Bingley: Just as a Gentleman Ought to Be is the previously untold story of a young man who unwittingly uncovers an evil cabal among the British Empire's aristocracy. Bingley confronts an enterprise so nefarious that he cannot help but act to redress it, even if it costs him his own reputation and the love of his life, the angelic Miss Jane Bennet. 

Follow Mr. Bingley down a rabbit hole of intrigue and corruption, as he fights to protect the country's most vulnerable alongside friends old and new. Can he set things right before he loses Jane forever?
 

Excerpt

     Two gentlemen sat across from each other in what would have been at that precise moment, and by no small measure, the most expensive coach in Hertfordshire. Both men were as rich as they were handsome and unattached. The first, his back pressed to the rear of the well-apportioned box, was lean and of greater-than-average height. His dark eyes, straight nose, and square jawline were softened by lips that curved delicately at the corners when he smiled. A tuft of hair the colour of chestnuts wafted across a broad and masculine forehead. This man carried himself with an air of confidence which was nearly as intimidating as it was attractive. The second man was an affable and lively man and also tall—though not as noticeably so as his friend. This one’s untamed and sandy-coloured curls matched with a winning smile to naturally draw the eye and may have had the unavoidable effect of masking a deceptively sturdy build. In the current moment, the second man found his naturally amiable disposition tested by his prudent friend’s calculated line of questioning.

     “Darcy, for the life of me I cannot understand your constant aversion to all things quaint and charming.”

     “And I cannot understand your insistence on taking a country home that will not suit you as a settled, permanent estate, particularly in a county such as Hertfordshire.”

     Bingley sighed heavily and glanced out the carriage window. “The choice of an estate is an axial task for the future of my family, and great care must be exercised in its selection. I would be immensely regretful in my later life, had I made the selection of a heritable estate based upon youth and imprudence.”

     “You may be young, Bingley, but you are certainly not imprudent,” Darcy answered him.

     “I am well aware that the two may, in fact, be intimately connected.”

     “Be that as it may, I still say I am not persuaded by your selection of this particular location. Certainly, the society cannot be much… refined.”

     “I have heard, my dear man, that this county is home to some of the most splendid beauties in the whole of England—”

     “And so that is your design in settling here—to find yourself a bride among the unconnected and bucolic ladies of the countryside?”

     “Design! Nonsense, how can you talk so? However, I’ve always felt kindness and charm as particularly attractive qualities, and country girls are quite celebrated for both. Design! My aim at present, is to find a place where I may settle comfortably for a time, and the distance from here to town is not nearly as great an imposition as it is to Derbyshire. You must remember, Darcy, my father may have left me a fortune, but he did not leave me Pemberley. Thus, I feel it is my familial duty to make a sober and fully informed selection when I decide upon a permanent estate.”

     Darcy only shifted in his seat and turned his gaze out the window.

     “In addition, Netherfield has been vacant for some time, and if it lives up to its billing I may endeavour, with your aid of course, to achieve quite a bargain on its price.”

     “A cheap house and pretty girls,” Darcy summed up his friend’s motivations such.

     “An appealing price for a country home where I may,” Bingley shifted in his own seat, a strained smile quickly fading from his lips, “take refuge from the…demands of my business. And while the girls are not my specific cause for taking the place, there is the possibility that I may very well fall in love with one of them.”

     “I might dare to predict it so much as a likelihood.”

     “And you would censure me for falling in love?”

     “Of course not. However, I would hold you to account if you were less scrupulous in the choice of a bride than you were in the selection of a family estate.”

     The two friends locked eyes momentarily before turning their respective gazes out their respective windows as the carriage rumbled forward over bumpy country roads.

     “Well, I thank you, yet again, for coming from town to see the place with me.”

     “You need not thank me. It is my pleasure to accompany you.”

     The carriage pulled round a bend and from Bingley’s seat the house came into view. “Oh, there it is—and what a fine prospect!”

     Darcy turned and looked out the glass on Bingley’s side. He had not expected to be affected in such a positive manner by the home’s appearance, but he was genuinely pleased by it on first sight. “Very fine, indeed.” Bingley looked quickly to Darcy’s face to measure his friend’s sincerity. He was rather pleased that Darcy seemed to genuinely admire the place, and for this reason his unparalleled smile appeared.


About the Author 


Brandon Dragan is an attorney in Tennessee and winner of the American Bar Association Journal's 2021 Ross Writing Contest. His writing draws on a wide array of influences from modern novelists such as Cormac McCarthy and Richard Yates to classic writers like Fyodor Dostoevsky and Jane Austen. He enjoys a good cigar, road cycling, and is an avid supporter of the Arsenal Football Club. Connect with Brandon via his website and social media.




Connect with Brandon Dragan

WebsiteFacebookInstagramYouTube • Goodreads


Book Links

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FTC Disclaimer: Link to Amazon. I am an Amazon Associate. I will receive a small commission, at no cost to you,  if you purchase a book through the link provided. Thanks!




Many thanks to Christina Boyd for organizing and including me in this book tour. 


So, friends, what are your thoughts? I love the thought of Mr. Bingley involved in a solving a mystery! There is more to the man than I thought! 

Monday, August 19, 2024

"Thwarted" by MJ Stratton Blog Tour ~ Excerpt & Giveaway!

 Hello Friends! I'm so excited to have MJ Stratton is visiting the blog today! Her new book, Thwarted looks terrific! You can find an excerpt below. Also, there's a giveaway going on. 




Thwarted
A Darcy & Elizabeth 
PRIDE & PREJUDICE VARIATION
By MJ Stratton

About the Book 

     Mr. Darcy is unmarriageable. Every time he shows any interest in a lady, be it casual or serious, the lady disappears or has disaster befall her. Soon, society spreads gossip that he is cursed, and mamas and daughters alike shun his company.
     Some unknown nemesis keeps the rumors alive, and soon, he suspects he will never find happiness until he discovers who wants him ruined.       
     In Meryton, a humbled Mr. Darcy finds himself drawn to a local beauty. Ever cautious that the villain behind his misfortune is watching, he takes great pains to keep his courtship a secret. He disguises his intentions by showing equal attention to all the ladies and being amiable to everyone. When an old enemy arrives in Meryton unexpectedly, Darcy is instantly wary and works even harder to keep his relationship with Elizabeth from being widely known. Will he ever be free to marry and love her openly, or is his love doomed to be thwarted?       

Thwarted can be considered far-fetched, but it was fun to write, nonetheless.
 
Excerpt

     Lord and Lady Matlock took advantage of the first break in weather to come north. They planned to break their journey at Pemberley for a few days before proceeding to their estate, where they would remain until it was time to return to London for Parliament. Unfortunately, his Aunt Tilda did not bring any good news.
      “The rumors have taken on a life of their own,” she told him sadly. “You have heard, of course, that the gossips say you are not just unmarriageable but also cursed. They have said that any woman to whom you grant attention is bound to meet an unsavory fate. And now, they are saying you are a new Henry the Eighth! No one dares to test whether they shall become the next condemned Anne Boleyn or the next favored Catherine Parr.”
      “That is utterly ridiculous!” Darcy cried in anger. “I have had nothing to do with the current state of each lady in question. All I did was try to court them.”
      “Yes,” his aunt said defensively. “I am only telling you what is being circulated. I do not think you will find any lady amongst the jewels of the ton now.”
      “Will you not consider Anne and have done with it?” his uncle asked.
      “Lady Catherine would be pleased,” Aunt Tilda agreed, nodding. “It is an ideal solution to your situation, for you will still have a well-dowered bride of the first circles.”
      “Absolutely not,” Darcy barked. “I have made my position on the matter clear. Does Aunt Catherine know aught of these rumors?” He laughed mirthlessly. “I would imagine she dislikes the idea of having me as a son-in-law now. She would declare me unsuitable for her daughter and the grandeur of Rosings Park.”
      Uncle Hugh remarked with a hearty laugh, “I think Catherine would overlook a great deal to see Pemberley and Rosings joined.”
      “She would, it seems, be the only one willing to do so,” Darcy snapped. “Is she spreading the rumors, then? Perhaps this is all one big plot to ensure I do her bidding.”
      “I have already looked into the source of the rumors,” his uncle protested. “Catherine swears it was not her, and I believe it. Further investigation has traced the tales to three gentlemen. The reports say they are of the same height and build, though with distinct features. A Runner reported one man had red hair and a bulbous nose. Another says he had brown hair and blue eyes. A third claims the man was blond. Jones, one investigator, says he was unable to learn more but speculates that the three men are the same person.”
      “That would make it a conspiracy,” Darcy said in disbelief. “It is to rather hard to stomach. What have I done to deserve such machinations being turned against me?”
      “The only conclusion on which the runners have agreed is that it appears someone does not want you to secure a bride in London,” Uncle Hugh revealed.
      Darcy groaned and took a long drink from his glass. The entire business had gone from bad to worse! What he would give to have done with it all.
      “Enough of this talk,” his aunt interrupted. “I have found a companion for Georgiana if she meets with your approval. Her name is Mrs. Agatha Younge. She is a respectable widow with excellent references and is a gifted pianist. She will help Georgiana further her skills before we select a master for her.”
      Finally, some good news. “Did you extend the offer to her?” Darcy asked.
      “I did,” she replied. “Mrs. Younge is to travel here in late February or early March if the roads are impassable.”
      “As always, I trust your judgment,” Darcy said, bowing his head to his aunt. Lady Matlock smiled in reply.
      His aunt and uncle stayed a whole week before departing for their estate. He was glad of the company, so isolated he had been at Pemberley since his and Georgiana’s arrival. Invitations had been nonexistent, and even Georgiana had remarked on her brother’s unusual amount of time spent at home in the evenings. Darcy felt lighter after they left, though the great mystery of the London rumors occasionally bothered him. He tried to put the entire thing from his mind, believing, as his aunt did, that the longer he was from Town, the quicker the rumors would die down. He would wait to hear from her before attempting to return.
 
Who do you think is causing all Darcy’s problems?

 About the Author

MJ Stratton is a long-time lover of Jane Austen and her works, having been introduced to Pride and Prejudice by a much-beloved aunt at the age of sixteen. The subsequent discovery of Austenesque fiction sealed her fate. After beta reading and editing for others for nearly a decade, MJ started publishing her own work in 2022. MJ balances being a wife and mother with writing, gardening, sewing, and many other favorite pastimes. She lives with her husband and four children in the small, rural town where she grew up.

Purchase at Amazon (paid link) / Add to Goodreads

FTC Disclaimer: Link to Amazon. I am an Amazon Associate. I will receive a small commission, at no cost to you,  if you purchase a book through the link provided. Thanks!




* * * GIVEAWAY * * *

It's giveaway time! During this blog tour MJ Stratton is giving away 2 eCopies of Thwarted - Enter through the Rafflecopter below.

Good luck!


a Rafflecopter giveaway


Many thanks to MJ Stratton for stopping by today! 


So friends, what are your thoughts? Returning to Ms Stratton's question; Who do you think is causing all Darcy’s problems?

Tuesday, July 2, 2024

"Learning to Love" by Brigid Huey ~ Blog Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway!

Hello, my friends! Do you love Little Women and Pride and Prejudice? Brigid Huey has entwined the two stories in her new book Learning to Love! Brigid is here today to share an excerpt from the book. There's also a giveaway happening! Details for the giveaway are at the bottom of this page.  




Learning to Love 
by Brigid Huey 

Blurb
 
In this exploration of Little Women and Pride and Prejudice, can Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam Darcy help unite two young lovers? 

Amy March has been in love with her neighbor Laurie for years, but he only had eyes for her older sister. Now living in Europe, Amy is choosing her path to happiness despite her heartache. But her equilibrium is challenged when a single and melancholy Laurie pays her a visit.  

Soundly rejected by his childhood love and best friend, Laurie is now wandering around Europe, taking little interest in anything or anyone. Things change in France, where he reunites with his old friend Amy. Disappointed in his behavior, she convinces him to take charge of his life and engineer his own happiness. 

Laurie returns to London to make a fresh start, but he cannot get Amy out of his mind. Confused and lovestruck, he appeals to his grandfather’s close friends, the Darcys, for advice. Will this wise, elderly couple be able to guide him through his heartache?
 

Candy, thank you so much for having me here at So little time! I’m pleased to be back, and even more excited to share with you and your readers my newest work! Learning to Love is inspired by my two favorite historical novels, Pride and Prejudice and Little Women. I’ve brought a little excerpt to share. I do hope you all enjoy it! 

Oh, I should probably mention that a key plot point from Little Women is revealed here. So if you haven’t read the original, be warned! Here we find Amy in a little garden in Vevay.


Excerpt

     The yard offered a green sanctuary shaded by trees with an excellent view of the water, and Amy sat for hours each day staring out across its wide blue expanse.

     She sat there now, alone as usual, with a pile of letters in her lap. Behind her, a bed of flowers bloomed with roses, her black crepe dress standing in stark contrast to the riotous blooms of pink and yellow behind her. How she wished for Laurie to be here! But she had told him to stay with his grandfather, and she would not be so selfish as to pull him away. Nevertheless, she felt certain that, once he heard the sad news, he would come. Her dear sister had been gone almost a month now.

     Tears slid down her cheeks once again. She should have gone home long ago. How would she ever bear this heartache alone? And how could she have missed the opportunity to say farewell to her beloved Beth?

     She dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief, absentmindedly fingering the black cross she wore around her neck. Laurie had given it to her many years ago. Jo had laughed at such a serious gift, but Laurie knew her better. Amy had a solemn, serious side that her sisters did not often appreciate. Meg understood, perhaps, but Jo never would. Though they had quarreled often as children, she and Jo had come to a pleasant place of understanding as they grew older. Her sister’s letters were full of affection and came with endearing regularity. Jo’s pages overflowed with snippets of stories she was working on, tales of her life in New York as a tutor, and the everyday ups and downs of life at Orchard House. All that would change if Jo ever found out about Amy’s love for Laurie.

     Amy thought that Beth might have suspected, but—as was her gentle sister’s way—she had never asked about it, unwilling to force a confidence. She should have confided in Beth. Now she would never get the chance. A fresh wave of tears overcame her, and she buried her face in her handkerchief. The loneliness of Vevay was suffocating.

     She longed for Laurie with a force that shook her confidence. She had practiced for so many years! Taking a deep breath, she tried to focus on the mantra that she often repeated to herself: He does not care for you in that way. You will be respected if you cannot be loved.

     But the words did not bring her comfort now. The letters from Laurie had drawn him too close to her heart. She loved him so very much but was still in ignorance of his feelings. He had never shown her more than brotherly affection.

     Yet the tone of his letters had changed. He spoke to her now as an equal, not a younger sister to be teased. His words were of a man to a woman. And though they were friends as they always had been, she felt that their friendship had deepened in a way she didn’t quite understand.

     Laurie—would he not come?

     She looked up and gasped. He stood on the other side of the courtyard, handsome as ever, though he wore a suit of mourning. Blinking to be certain she was really seeing him, her lips formed his name, though no sound escaped them. 

     In a moment, she was on her feet and running toward him. The forgotten letters fluttered to the ground as she opened her arms. “Oh, Laurie! I knew you would come to me!”

     The words escaped her lips without her realizing it. In a moment, she was safe in his embrace. His strong arms came around her and she rested her head on his lapel, taking in his familiar smell and the comfort that only his presence could bring.

     “I came as soon as I got your letter,” he muttered against her hair.

     After a long moment, she realized she was still holding onto him. She stepped back, feeling the flush on her skin. “I’m so sorry! I couldn’t help it. I was just so lonely, and I looked up and saw you, and…well…”

     He took her arm in his, leading her back to the bench. She sat and watched him gather up the forgotten letters. She felt her cheeks heat again when she realized just how many of them were from him. As he sat beside her and handed her the letters, his look was almost shy. She tucked them away in her reticule and struggled to meet his gaze.

     “How are you doing, my dear? Really?” His voice was gentle, and she felt tears coming on again.

     “I shall be well in time.”

     “I wish I could say something to comfort you for the loss of dear Beth, but I can only feel and…” Unable to finish his thought, Laurie took her hand instead, giving it a gentle squeeze.

     “You needn’t say anything. This comforts me.”

     They sat for a moment in silence, thinking of Beth and all they had lost.

     “Beth is at peace now,” Amy whispered at last. “I am so grateful you have come, Laurie. My Aunt and Flo have been very kind, but they didn’t love Beth the way we did.” She looked at him with sudden anxiety. “You need not return right away?”

     “I shall stay as long as you want me, my dear.”

     Something in his voice struck her heart in a way that stole her tongue. She could not trust herself to reply, so she nodded instead. Still, he said nothing, and she whispered, “I do want you. Very much.”

     She chanced a look at Laurie’s face and saw something there that made her heart beat faster. He was looking at her tenderly—in a way he never had before.

     The moment passed, and he said in his usual way, “Poor little soul! I am going to take care of you now. Come. It is too chilly to sit still here in the shade. Let us walk together.”

     He slipped her arm through his and led her out into the sunlight. They walked along the stone walkway near the lake’s edge, admiring its beauty together.


About the Author

Brigid Huey lives in Ohio with her husband and two kids. She
dreams of living on a farm where she can raise as many chickens, ducks, and goats as she likes and write romance novels in an airy study overlooking the wildflowers.






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July 2 - So little time... you're here!



* * * GIVEAWAY * * *

It's giveaway time! Meryton Press is giving away an eBook of Learning to Love to one of my lucky readers! To enter, leave a comment below with a way to contact you, or check back here, where I will announce the winner.




  • One person will win an e-copy of Learning to Love.
  • Winner will be randomly picked.
  • To enter the giveaway, leave a comment below and provide a way of contacting you, or check back for the winner announcement.
  • Open internationally.
  • The last day to enter the giveaway is July 9th, 2024, by the end of the day.
Good luck!


Congratulations, Brigid, on the release of Learning to Love! Thank you so much for stopping by!

Thanks to Meryton Press for the giveaway, and a heartfelt thanks to Janet Taylor @ More Agreeably Engaged for organizing and including me in this blog tour!


So readers, what are your thougths about a Little Women/Pride and Prejudice mashup? Let me know in the comments! 

Monday, July 1, 2024

"Georgiana Darcy's Magical Meddling" by Leah Page ~ Excerpt & Giveaway!

Hello, my friends! I'm delighted to have Leah Page on the blog today with an excerpt from her new book, Georgiana Darcy's Magical Meddling

Leah is also giving away an eCopy of her book! Details are at the bottom of the page.




Book Blurb 

Sixteen-year-old Georgiana Darcy harbors a secret—she's recently discovered she is a witch! Under the tutelage of a wise and witchy companion, she spends her days casting spells and plotting the occasional hex against the irksome Miss Bingley. 

When the tea leaves reveal that her brother, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, is destined to meet his one true love at a local assembly, Georgiana cannot resist using her newfound powers to eavesdrop. Unfortunately, the encounter is far from magical. Fitzwilliam's clumsy attempts at affection are doomed without her intervention. Armed with her trusty diary and a knack for magical mischief, Georgiana vows to document—and secretly improve—each of her brother's courtship efforts, ensuring he never strays from his path to true love. But when Lady Catherine de Bourgh senses a budding romance, the stakes rise. 

Will the fledgling witch secure her brother’s happiness and manage the magical realm’s unpredictable twists? Or will her enchanted endeavors fizzle just when she needs them the most? 

Humorous, heartfelt, and utterly enchanting, Georgiana Darcy's Magical Meddling invites you to experience Darcy and Elizabeth’s romance through the eyes of a clever, charming, and slightly meddlesome young witch. Her diary isn't just a record of magical mayhem—it's a confirmation of the love, laughter, and lunacy that make up her witchy life.
 
Excerpt

Chapter One

Midday, 24 October 1811

Dear Diary, 

     I am bursting with excitement. Today I learned the most thrilling news! Tonight, my brother will meet his one true love! Mrs. Annesley, my companion, read Fitzwilliam’s tea leaves (after he left the table, of course), and that is how I discovered it. He is to attend a ball with his friend, Mr. Bingley. There, he will meet his one true love. Is that not the most romantic thing you have ever heard? It is doubly romantic given Fitzwilliam’s aversion to attending balls, as will be the case tonight.

     I suppose I should start from the beginning, little niece, as you are likely quite confused by now. Greetings from your Aunt Georgiana, who, as it happens, is also a witch. I have started a fresh diary for your benefit, as you are likely a witch as well. Do not worry about others finding this book. My companion has placed a spell on the pages that allows only witches to read them. After all, it would not be proper for those without magic to peruse the secrets held within this tome.

     I learned of my powers when I met my companion, Mrs. Annesley. Before her, I had a terrible companion who took advantage of my youth and inexperience and led me astray. We will not discuss that further. Suffice it to say Fitzwilliam (your father) separated me from that lady posthaste upon discerning her vile nature. He then introduced me to Mrs. Annesley, and I could not have been happier with any other companion. 

     Mrs. Annesley is the third daughter of a baron. As she explained it to me, females of rank almost always have magical powers. Their power is, usually, the reason the family gained rank and power in the first place. However, the wealthiest and most powerful homes have long forgotten their powers and stopped practicing. Perhaps, having grown complacent like fatted calves, these families saw no need to pursue their arcane studies further. It is likely that my own mother, the daughter of an influential earl, was a powerful witch. Unfortunately, she died when I was a small child, so I never learned from her. It is possible she was never even aware of her talents.

     Yet, this tale concerns both Mrs. Annesley and my own foray into the craft. As I said, Mrs. Annesley is the third daughter of a baron. Though he held a title, he was not particularly wealthy or powerful, and thus, the ladies of that family never stopped practicing their craft. Witchcraft can be a potent boon for a gentleman. A witch who knows what she is about can secure bountiful harvests, avert blights, and influence her husband towards wise investments. Men may fancy themselves powerful and clever, yet it's truly the women steering the course. Remember that, little niece.

     At the age of twenty, Mrs. Annesley left home to marry Mr. Annesley. He was the second son of a gentleman farmer, and though he did not inherit the family property, he did receive a very lovely little place along the shore in Kent. Mrs. Annesley has shown it to me in visions, so I can attest to the beauty of the home and setting. Alas, their love was but brief, her husband succumbing to a consumptive disease mere years after their union. I asked once why she did not save him, and she explained that witchcraft does not work like that. She was able to offer him comfort, but even a witch cannot suspend God’s will. Currently, a tenant rents the house in Kent, which adds to Mrs. Annesley’s small annuity. She opts to serve as a companion until she deems herself ready to wed anew or till work becomes untenable with age. 

     That is quite a sad story and not at all why you are here, dearest niece. You are here to learn the story of your father’s one true love. And to do that, I must share my background a bit. When Mrs. Annesley became my companion, she began to test me in small ways to understand my powers. Given my father's considerable lands, she suspected our lineage harbored latent talents, but when she learned my mother was the daughter of an Earl, she was convinced I had dormant abilities. 

     At first, she tried me in little ways that were hardly decipherable to me. For instance, she once offered me tea that was terribly hot, but before it settled on my tongue, I had unwittingly cooled it. Another time, she spelled a young child with messy hands to hug me close. I was left with small handprints of sticky syrup along my skirt. While the child’s mother apologized for her son’s actions, I took out my handkerchief and dabbed at the stains. They removed themselves with no more effort than a wave of my cloth across the untidiness. I was quite unaware that I had used magic to clean myself, for it happened unconsciously. 

     Once she was satisfied that I did possess some powers, she tested me further. One day, Fitzwilliam joined us late for breakfast. He greeted each of us and turned to the buffet to make his selections. My reply of, “Good morning, Fitzwilliam,” barely had time to echo before the morning’s tranquility was shattered —not by the expected clink of China, but by an unexpected maneuver from Mrs. Annesley. Without warning, she sent the sugar bowl hurling through the air toward Fitzwilliam, who stood behind me, gathering his breakfast from the buffet. 

     A sudden "eep" escaped me, an instinctive reaction to the potential disaster I sensed rather than saw. My hands reached out futilely, as if I could somehow catch the bowl through sheer will. But the expected crash never came. Confused, I turned just in time to see the sugar bowl floating to the ground before landing innocuously behind me on the floor, as if it had chosen to leap from its perch in a bid for freedom and then thought better of it.

     “Georgiana, why is the sugar on the floor?” My brother placed his plate near mine and then stalked behind me to pick up the dish. 

     Stammering, I managed, “I, uh, deemed the sugar too great a temptation and opted to remove it from my sight, especially since my dresses have grown snug around the middle.” A lame excuse, but the only shield I could muster on the spur of the moment.

     “Nonsense. You look quite well, sister. In any case, if you desire to limit yourself, have a footman remove it from the table. Placing it on the floor is a filthy habit. What would Father have said had he lived to witness this?” His words were stern, yet I sensed his concern was born more of confusion than reprimand.

     My eyes darted across the table to my companion. Her expression was one of unperturbed serenity. She sipped her tea as if flying sugar bowls were among the most common breakfast activities. I admit I was a trifle irritated with her at the time. But when we settled in the yellow salon later that morning, she shared the news of my powers with me, and all was forgiven. 

     That is a bit of a stretch. All was not immediately forgiven because I did not believe her claims. She reminded me of the child’s sticky hands, but I dismissed that. “That was not magic,” I argued, “it was the result of my own actions.” With a scoff, she dotted my skirt with jam! Before I could set myself back to rights, she stilled my hand and suggested that I could clean one stain but leave the other for my abigail, La Roche. The spot I chose disappeared with no more than a wave of a napkin, but La Roche was forced to spend several minutes scrubbing the spot with water and soap before it was put to rights. 

     Since that day, she has been teaching me to harness my powers. I have practiced just a few short months, so I have not yet learned much, but I am able to make the roses bloom on command, and I can sweeten my tea as desired without adding so much as a cube of sugar or a drop of cream. That is a more useful spell than one might imagine. Miss Bingley’s tea, so bitter it could scandalize, would surely appall you. She allows it to steep for far too long, and the result is an undrinkable brew. With a small tap of my index finger against the porcelain cup, I can take tea with the lady without gagging. 

     Mrs. Annesley has advised me to keep my powers secret for the time being. Fitzwilliam himself remains oblivious to these powers. He is also, obviously, ignorant of her tea reading skills. Be careful of the lady who always offers to take up the teacups, for I have discovered that is Mrs. Annesley’s tactic. Whenever possible, she reads everyone’s leaves. 

     And that, my dear niece, is the abbreviated tale behind this new journal’s beginnings. But let us move on to more exciting things. As I mentioned, I have delicious news. Tonight, your father will meet his one true love (as told by his tea leaves this morning) and I have chosen to record their love story for you. If your mother turns out to be as reticent as your father, then you shall never hear the story without my intervention. 

     My brother and I recently arrived at the estate of Mr. Charles Bingley. Mr. Bingley is Fitzwilliam’s good friend. I believe they met during their time at Cambridge, though Mr. Bingley is a few years younger. Mr. Bingley resides at a place known as Netherfield Park. It lies in the county of Hertfordshire just outside a small village called Meryton. I do not believe Fitzwilliam has yet to meet anyone in the community, though perhaps he has met a gentleman or two. He and Mr. Bingley did go shooting yesterday and men do like to do those things in groups. But the point is that Fitzwilliam needs to meet a lady, and I do not believe he’s yet had that pleasure. So, unless he plans to accidentally stumble upon a lady this afternoon, the only place he could possibly meet his one true love is at the ball.

     My brother is the best of men, but young as I am, I am not blind to his faults. Fitzwilliam might, at best, be described as reticent. He might, at worst, be described as a pompous snob. He hates to be the center of attention and is very uncomfortable among new people. Unfortunately, when he is uncomfortable, he often appears to be rather terrible, at least to those who do not know him. That is why tonight is so special. For a man as reserved as my brother to find his one true love amid a public ball —oh, it will be truly amazing! I cannot help but wonder about the lady who will capture his attention. Will she be shy like Fitzwilliam, or will she possess a natural wit and vivacity that will help to draw him out?

     Because I am not yet out, being sixteen, I asked if there was a spell that would allow me to watch the events unfold without attending. Mrs. Annesley believes there are several that might work and is just now checking her books to determine the best options for a young, inexperienced witch. While she is searching her spell books, I shall share some necessary background information for the sake of my future nieces. 

     I have been studying the art of tea reading myself, but I have not yet mastered it. Yesterday I believed I read that Mr. Bingley would fall off his horse, but it turns out that he was only to fall off the porch, and even that interpretation was not quite right, for he simply tripped down the final step and landed with surprising grace on his feet in the driveway. 

     Mrs. Annesley’s predictions always prove themselves to be correct, however, which is why I was so excited to hear this morning’s forecast. My brother (your father) will meet his one true love this evening, and I will finally have a sister! And eventually, little one, I will have you, too. 

***

     Mrs. Annesley returned with a list of possibilities. There are, it appears, three spells suitable for a witch of my novice level to witness another's experiences. The first is a transformation spell. This enchantment might allow me to attend the ball not in person but cloaked in the guise of a small creature. Alas, as a fledgling witch, it is unlikely I could master the art of assuming a form as complex as a bird, to perch unnoticed at the event. Mastering a mouse's form might be within my reach, yet how much could I discern from a vantage so low upon the ground? Inevitably, I would startle at least one lady, and likely a gentleman too, with my mousey presence. Someone might even swat at me with a broom, or perhaps a cane. Attending a ball as a mouse seems like a very good way to lose my life. 

     The second type is a mirror spell. This would necessitate charming an object already present at the ball. It would then act as a mirror, allowing me to see events happening around the room. Unfortunately, I do not have the ability to place an object at the ball because I will not be attending. 

     The final option is a riding spell. This is the most complicated of the options, but it is probably the only one that is truly available to me. A riding spell would enable me, the witch, to experience events through another's senses. Obviously, I would need to charm Fitzwilliam for his are the eyes and ears that will matter this evening. Mrs. Annesley has assured me this is physically taxing magic and has urged me to take a long afternoon nap so that I can maintain the connection for the duration of the ball. So that is what I shall do. 

     I will return this evening to share what I learn. Wish me (and Fitzwilliam, of course) luck!


About the Author

Leah Page loves books, hiking, and the Bengals (Who Dey!).  She has a passion for travel, is doing her best to learn Spanish, and has plans to live “a little bit of everywhere” when her husband retires. For now, you can find her sitting at her writing desk in Kentucky while her sidekick pup sleeps in her lap.   

Leah writes Pride and Prejudice fan fiction. If you would like to learn more, visit www.leahpageauthor.com

Book Links

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* * *GIVEAWAY * * *

Leah Page is offering one free e-copy of Georgiana Darcy’s Magical Meddling to a lucky reader. To qualify for the drawing, enter below. Good luck!

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Many thanks to Leah Page for stopping by today! Congratulations on the release of Georgiana Darcy's Magical Meddling


I absolutely loved that excerpt. It was so fun. I'm looking forward to reading the rest of the story! How about you? Let me know in the comments below. 

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