Sneak Peak: NorthFanger

Hello, Readers!

To celebrate the spookiest night of the year, I'm sharing an excerpt of my upcoming release, NorthFanger!

As you can tell from the title, this mash-up of Pride & Prejudice with Northanger Abbey is going to be campy, vampy, and full of surprises!

The first surprise come in Chapter one, just after Elizabeth Bennet and her cousin Catherine Morland arrive at Rosings to visit the Collinses.....

Much to Catherine’s chagrin, the coveted invitation to dine at Rosings Park came a few days later, when she was abed with her monthly pains. Their cousin Mr. Collins was distressed that Catherine would brave her Ladyship’s displeasure by remaining at the parsonage, but this was nothing to the disappointment that Catherine expressed privately to Elizabeth.

“I hope Charlotte will give me a faithful account of the evening, if you do not, Lizzy,” she sighed, when Elizabeth came to check on her. “I long to see how you get on with the gentlemen. You look so beautiful tonight, I am sure they shall both end the evening violently in love with you!” Catherine threw herself back against the pillows to emphasize her conjecture.

Elizabeth blushed. She had dressed with great care, though it was from a sense of defiance toward the mistress of Rosings, rather than any desire to arouse admiration from either of the gentlemen she would encounter there. “Her Ladyship did not seem much impressed with me in church yesterday,” Elizabeth said archly. “And I could not let our cousin be disgraced by having such a relation!”

Catherine giggled. “She was severe! Do you suppose she is aware that you once refused Mr. Collins?”

“Hush,” Elizabeth laughed, “I do not wish Charlotte to overhear you say such things. But yes, I had thought it possible. On the other hand, perhaps Lady Catherine is simply used to thinking herself quite above her company. A family trait, I think.”

Catherine screwed up her face for a moment, then gave a bashful smirk. “Perhaps she has noticed that her nephews admire you!”

“Pah!” Elizabeth swatted playfully at her. “I will bid you goodnight then; clearly your mind is already entrenched in some lurid novel.”

Still grinning, Catherine picked up the book on her nightstand and opened it, giving Elizabeth a suggestive look before she raised the book up so that the cover blocked her face from view. 

“Though they had only met twice, the dashing colonel declared his insurmountable passion for Elizabeth,” Catherine said with feeling, her finger trailing across the page for dramatic effect. She gasped, and continued her charade. “And then the brooding Mr. Darcy took her in his arms, proclaiming his own ardent admiration. There was thunder, lightning, and a terrible rain - Lady Catherine burst in and commanded Elizabeth be taken to the dungeons! The colonel charged at her, saber drawn….”

Though Elizabeth had indulged her friend with a wry smile, they were interrupted by Mr. Collins calling out in the corridor - her Ladyship, a paragon of punctuality, could not be kept waiting. Elizabeth gave a playful roll of her eyes as she took her leave. “Good night, Catherine.”

***

Dinner at Rosings Park was dull indeed when Elizabeth compared it in her mind to the flagrant images her cousin had conjured up. Catherine would have preferred something more horrific than their hostess’ self-important conversation over the meal, though the girl was not wrong in supposing the dowager to be more villainous than Elizabeth had first thought.

Lady Catherine de Bourgh was an imposing woman, full of self-importance. When she was not receiving Mr. Collins’ endless compliments with haughty gratification, she questioned Elizabeth at length about her family, her connections, and her accomplishments. She extended a great deal of imperious advice, Mr. Collins praised her wisdom and condescension, the colonel japed as if naught was amiss, and Mr. Darcy silently glared at them all. 

Lady Catherine’s daughter, Anne de Bourgh, was silent and dull throughout the meal, and in the drawing room afterward. Her companion, Mrs. Jenkinson, spoke only to her charge and her employer; Miss de Bourgh spoke to nobody at all, and Mr. Darcy completely ignored her - what a happy couple Elizabeth imagined they would make!

Elizabeth spent much of the evening missing her younger cousin, and indulged more than once in private laughter at what Catherine would say about what was passing. Charlotte, at least, was doing her best to keep the conversation civil. At length she steered her Ladyship’s attention away from Elizabeth’s shocking quantity of sisters, only for Lady Catherine to insist Elizabeth open the pianoforte. 

Colonel Fitzwilliam instantly offered to turn the pages for her, and followed Elizabeth across the room as she took her place at the instrument. Lady Catherine listened to half a song before her attention waned, and she began to speak to Mr. Darcy, but ere long he moved away as well, leaving her to Charlotte and Mr. Collins. 

Elizabeth became aware of the sound of rain outside, and the pattering at the window panes was more distracting than the colonel’s idle chatter. When Mr. Darcy joined them, Elizabeth could scarcely keep her composure as she recalled Catherine’s fanciful musings. “Do you mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear me?” She looked up at him, intending to tease him further, when she was struck by the odd look in his eyes. 

There was a flash of lightning outside, and Mr. Darcy’s face was suddenly lit more brightly than the dim sconces in the drawing room allowed. Elizabeth’s fingers stumbled over the keys, and she ceased playing entirely as she suddenly perceived the powerful melancholy Catherine had described. The sorrow in his countenance was tinged with something else, something deeply troubling and frighteningly attractive; Elizabeth gave a little gasp, and looked away.

“I say, Darcy, you do look dreadfully alarming,” Colonel Fitzwlliam said with a deep guffaw. “Whatever are you about, giving Miss Bennet such a fright?”

Elizabeth braved another glance up at Mr. Darcy, and he returned her gaze with no little intensity. His eyes locked on hers, and Elizabeth felt a strange heat in her chest as they drank in the sight of one another. For a moment she forgot there was anyone else in the room; Mr. Darcy was smiling at her in earnest, and it was a magnificent, shattering thing. 

“I have had the pleasure of Miss Bennet’s acquaintance long enough to know it is quite impossible to frighten her,” Mr. Darcy said, his eyes twinkling with something stronger than mirth - Catherine might have called it longing. 

Elizabeth could not take her eyes off him, nor could she make any sensible reply. She laughed nervously, rallying herself to shake off the heady thoughts her cousin had planted in her head. Though Elizabeth had no wish to betray the fact, she was frightened - she had begun to think that Mr. Darcy might admire her after all. 

***

Darcy stared down at Elizabeth, his heart racing in his chest. His attraction to her in Meryton had been a trifling thing - he had thought it under good regulation, even at the Netherfield ball. The crisis of his sister’s flight from London had pushed Elizabeth from his mind, though not entirely, and not for long. He had returned to Meryton for Bingley’s wedding, pressed by his cousin to keep up appearances while they searched for Georgiana, and his feelings for Elizabeth overpowered him the moment he set eyes on her. 

A great tumult of emotions stirred in Darcy’s chest as his gaze swept over her. Seeing her again so soon was torture for him; even if he could overcome his scruples about his duty to his family and the inferiority of her connections, he could not subject Elizabeth to the threat of scandal and the desolation caused by Georgiana’s disappearance. Yet it was this very despondency that made him long to take her in his arms. He smiled down at Elizabeth and for a moment everything ebbed away, save for the sheer joy of being in her presence.

There was another flash of lightning, and one half of Elizabeth’s upturned face was lit from the side as the window panes cast a lurid glow.  Her lips parted and her eyes were wide with surprise, and something else - comprehension. It was as if she had pierced his heart and seen it laid bare before her.

He had scarcely been aware of what he said to her, and when she finally replied, her voice was obscured by a peal of thunder that sent a hush over the assembled company. A moment later Darcy was startled out of his amorous reverie when the window blew open with a loud clatter. 

Mr. Collins let out a high pitched shriek as cold rain blew in and the wall sconces flickered, and then Lady Catherine began to shout at him to close the window. The parson hastened to do as he was bid, but froze as a shadow appeared there - the silhouette of a woman. She sprang up into the window frame, illuminated by another flash of lightning. Darcy’s breath caught in his throat; he could just make out the features of his sister. 

Before he could speak, Lady Catherine stood and went toward the window, demanding Georgiana come in and explain her wild appearance. She leapt into the room at an incredible speed; Lady Catherine and Mrs. Collins screamed, and Anne fainted. Richard was on his feet at once, while Darcy took a protective step toward Elizabeth, who slowly raised one hand to rest her fingers on the long silver chain that was wrapped several times around her delicate ivory neck. Her other hand clasped onto his as he moved nearer, and Darcy could see the goose flesh on her arm.

He looked back to his sister, unable to speak at such a staggering moment. Georgiana was clad only in a nightdress, the tattered garment and her loose blonde hair billowed in the rainy wind that blew in through the open window. She was eerily still; there was an overpowering sense of otherness about her, and then Darcy realized - she had fangs. 

***

Elizabeth’s first thought, as she gazed in horror at the second vampire she had ever laid eyes on, was for Catherine - her cousin would likely marvel at the sight before her now. The young girl stood before them, her wild eyes fixed on Mr. Darcy. “William,” she said in a strangled voice. 

Mr. Darcy flinched. “Georgie….”

“Help me,” the wretched creature moaned, her eyes wide and unblinking. Her small frame was frozen in a defensive stance, and there was a frenzied look about her that sent a chill down Elizabeth’s spine. 

The tension in the room was almost unbearable, and Elizabeth was filled with a terrible sense of forboding. Mr. Darcy was too stunned to betray any reaction beyond squeezing Elizabeth’s hand tighter. Mr. Collins began to back away from the diminutive but menacing creature, but Lady Catherine was undaunted. “What is the meaning of this? You will explain yourself at once!”

Lady Catherine seized Georgiana by the arm, and there was a flutter of movement as they tumbled to the ground; the formidable old woman began to shriek and writhe in pain as Georgiana sank her fangs into the dowager’s neck and drank. 

Chaos erupted in the drawing room. Everyone around her was screaming, but Elizabeth remained uncannily calm. Mr. Darcy began to drift toward the girl, whom Elizabeth suspected must be his sister - Elizabeth was reluctant to release his hand, and the colonel moved that way to stay his cousin. 

Miss de Bourgh had momentarily fainted, and, as her companion fled the room, Charlotte was obliged to cower over the poor girl. Mr. Darcy and the colonel called out Georgiana’s name, but to no avail, and Elizabeth was now obliged to restrain both of the gentlemen by positioning herself in front of them and taking them each by one hand. 

Mr. Collins, in a perverse and unexpected surge of courage, attempted to rescue his noble patroness, though Elizabeth cried out for him to stay back. Without breaking away from her prey, the young vampire shoved Mr. Collins aside with such a force that he careened backward into the wall and collapsed onto the floor; the sound of bones breaking was unmistakable. Charlotte cried out in horror as her husband hit the ground. The young vampire’s head snapped up at once, and she was on her feet so quickly that she tore away a piece of her aunt’s flesh, spraying the room and its occupants with blood.

Mr. Darcy made a guttural sound of sheer agony, and he moved toward his sister. “Georgie…,” he gasped.

Elizabeth had not released his hand, though the colonel had drawn her closer, whispering for Elizabeth to avert her eyes. She did not, and a moment later the young vampire, her face and thin nightdress drenched in blood, took another impossibly fast step toward her brother, stopping in the center of the room. Georgiana hesitated, but Elizabeth did not - she released her grasp on the gentlemen and launched into action. In one swift motion she kicked over the piano stool and brought her foot down on one of the intricately carved wooden legs, busting off a jagged piece. This diverted Georgiana’s attention from Mr. Darcy, and Elizabeth braced herself against the pianoforte as the young vampire flew at her. She gripped the stake tightly, knowing she had one chance to drive it through the girl’s heart.

Elizabeth did not miss her mark - as Georgiana collided with her, pinning Elizabeth down on top of the pianoforte, Elizabeth held fast to the makeshift stake. It pierced all the way through Georgiana, coming out her back, and the girl’s face contorted with pain for a moment before going slack. 

A heavy silence fell over the room, and Elizabeth was suddenly aware of her own labored breathing, the weight of the body on top of hers, and the blood that trickled out of Georgiana’s chest and onto Elizabeth. She peered up at Mr. Darcy; his look of dismay sent a shiver up her spine, but still she gazed imploringly at him. “Help me,” she sputtered. 

Mr. Darcy was frozen with panic; it was the colonel who finally came toward her and lifted Georgiana gently off Elizabeth, though he was nearly as aghast as his cousin. “Good God, Miss Bennet! Is she…?”

“Dead? In a manner of speaking, though not by my hand,” Elizabeth said, as she clambered back into an upright position. 

The colonel cradled Georgiana’s stiffened body in his arms, and Mr. Darcy slowly joined them, his hand trembling as he stroked the girl’s hair. Elizabeth felt a pang of guilt at what she had been obliged to do, particularly after the strangely charged moment of unspoken desire that had just passed between herself and Mr. Darcy. 

Even so, adrenaline compelled her to proceed. She lifted the long silver chain from around her neck - it had been a gift from her Uncle Silas, though she had never expected to use it for its intended purpose. She approached Georgiana and bound the girl’s wrists tightly together with the silver chain - only once this was done did Elizabeth look up at Mr. Darcy. “She will rouse, I believe, as soon as we remove the stake - first we must make sure she is secure.”

His jaw set in a taut, grim expression, Mr. Darcy made no reply. Colonel Fitzwilliam caught Elizabeth’s gaze and gave a quick, tense nod of his head. “What must we do?”

“The silver should bind her sufficiently,” Elizabeth said, but her confidence wavered as her eyes drifted to the crumpled, inert form of Mr. Collins. Beside him lay Lady Catherine de Bourgh, her throat ripped open, dark blood pooling around her. Elizabeth willed herself to look away, and though she had addressed the colonel, she was focused on Mr. Darcy - she was filled with an overwhelming urge to comfort him. 

Again Elizabeth laid a hand on his arm; this time it was her turn to convey a fervent sense of something that could not be expressed with words. He let out a shaky breath, his gaze landing on her as if she had pulled him back from the edge of some fearful abyss, and a moment later he covered her hand with his own. “She will rouse?”

Elizabeth nodded and wrapped her hand around the end of the stake that protruded from Georgiana’s chest. “Whenever you are ready, sir.”

Mr. Darcy looked over at Charlotte and Miss de Bourgh, who were still huddled together in the corner. “Mrs. Collins, I think you would be safer upstairs, if you would please take my cousin to her room.” He did not leave his sister’s side, nor did he take his eyes off of Elizabeth. He waited, holding fast to Georgiana, as the colonel helped Charlotte and Miss de Bourgh make a hasty retreat.

Once Colonel Fitzwilliam had closed and locked the drawing room doors behind them, he joined Mr. Darcy in holding onto Georgiana. “Do what you must, Miss Bennet.”

Elizabeth took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut as she pulled the stake out of Georgiana’s chest and took several hurried steps backward. The vampire was instantly reanimated, and began to struggle violently against her brother and cousin as she let out a blood-curdling shriek. 

***

Georgiana Darcy was on fire. Her veins boiled with rage, the throbbing in her chest consumed her, and the intoxicating smell of fear and blood permeated the room. Her body writhed, every sensation past her control as the stake was pulled from her chest. She came out of the pain as if emerging from a thick crimson cloud, and when she could see clearly again, she instantly hurled herself at her attacker. 

She was restrained, and let out a desperate howl as she attempted to shake off the hands that held her and the silver that seared into her wrists. For a moment a red mist blurred her vision, and she ceased her struggle as a sense of confusion stilled her. 

“Georgiana?”

She locked her eyes on her brother at the sound of his voice. The dismay in his face distracted her, for a moment, from every feeling of her own, and her body went slack against him. There was someone else at her side - Richard. And beyond them, her attacker, a woman she did not recognize, whose face and gown were spattered in blood. Some of it was Georgiana’s; she could smell it. But this woman was the only person in the room who did not reek of horror. 

Transfixed by the unknown woman, Georgiana licked the blood from her lips and let out a hungry groan. Still she was restrained, and she forced her attention back to her brother and her cousin. Their hearts were beating incredibly fast - she could hear them. 

Her own heart was silent and still, as it had been for three months now. Her bound hands reflexively raised to her chest; her nightgown was torn, but the place where the stake had pierced her was already beginning to heal. She focused on this, and she could feel her body repairing itself. It was a sensation she had experienced before, and like so many other things about herself, she did not understand it. Again she snarled and made one last, feeble attempt to wrest herself free.

“Please… it burns me,” Georgiana groaned.

William’s breathing was ragged, his face still twisted in despair; he looked at Georgiana without seeming to recognize her. Richard bore the same expression of horror. “Georgiana, what have you done?” 

She followed his gaze to the two bodies on the drawing room floor, her bloodied aunt and a man she did not even know. The force of Georgiana’s shame was overpowering, and she sank to her knees with a wail of lamentation that she could scarcely identify as her own voice. “God help me, I am a monster!”

I hoped you enjoyed this evening's spooky sampling - vampires abound in this gothic Austen Vagary, coming Friday the 13th of November to Kindle - the book is available for pre-order here!