My newest work, Missing Jane, will be coming out in July. This last month has been a whirlwind of writing, finding an editor, and planning the cover. We finally had the photo shoot on Saturday, and I can’t wait to see what the photographer does with what we got. The day was beautiful!
So this month I thought I would share the blurb and a deleted scene.
Mr. Bennet is dead; his daughters “scattered to the winds,” according to Mrs. Bennet.
And the eldest Miss Bennet? No one really knows.
Poor Mr. Bingley is led to believe she is no more, but her sister swears she is alive.
Can Mr. Darcy and his friend find her and, in turn, their own happily ever afters?
When I first started writing this novella, it had a prologue and a couple chapters written from Elizabeth’s point of view. Those have since been cut away, though at least one scene was resurrected for a flashback. Here is the discarded prologue which lays out the catalyst for our characters’ adventures.
Thomas Bennet sighed after pulling himself into the saddle and tugging his collar close about his ears. He had put off riding out to inspect the old bridge at the far eastern edge of Longbourn, his property in Hertfordshire. Normally he would leave it to his steward to address the situation, but Mr. Morrison had broken his ankle a month prior and would remain out of commission for several more weeks.
Tossing a glance over his shoulder to survey the approaching storm clouds, Mr. Bennet sighed again and turned his horse eastward. The bridge was one of the oldest in the area and Morrison had been urging Mr. Bennet to repair it for more than a year. Though he had every intention of doing so, other things had taken his attention and it was delayed until spring. As he approached the site he realized, if the coming storm was as severe as he feared it would be, the bridge would not survive. Leaving his horse tied to a nearby tree, he stepped onto the bridge and moved across it with care as he listened to the sounds of the creaking wood.
A flash of lightning caught his eye, and he leaned against the railing as he waited for the thunder. The sudden crack was his only warning before the old wood rail gave way and he fell into the fast running river. Never a great swimmer, Mr. Bennet fought his way toward the steep embankment, bouncing about in the current as the rain began to fall. When he finally reached the shore, the ground was slick with mud and he was unable to pull himself out above his waist. As he lay clinging to a root and being struck by debris, he prayed he would be found before his strength gave out and he was swept downstream.
Can’t wait to share this low angst, sweet clean novella. Watch for more information in the near future.