North Fanger...Jayne Bamber

 It's great to have Jayne Bamber visiting today. We've had a hard time getting together with Jayne's last two books, so I'm happy we were able to make this post. Welcome, Jayne. 

This sounds like a different book and an interesting one. I confess, I'm quite intrigued by the cover. What do you think, Readers? Don't you like it? Have any of you read it yet? If you have, we would love to hear from you.

Jayne has an excerpt for us and a giveaway. Be sure you enter via the Rafflecopter at the end of the post. 

Excerpt:

Darcy knocked on the door to the chamber where Elizabeth had taken his sister. She bid him enter, but made no other acknowledgement as he joined her beside the bed where Georgiana had been laid. The silence did not bother Darcy - what was a man to say to the woman he loved, after they had just covered up the murder of his relation and hers, a murder committed at the hands of his own sister?

Elizabeth was perched on the bed at Georgiana’s side, and Darcy took a seat nearby, content to watch Elizabeth’s curious ministrations. She was slowly unwinding her silver chain from around Georgiana’s wrists, which were marred with blistered red burns. Georgiana’s jaw was clenched and her countenance belied her pain, but she was silent and almost serene as she held Elizabeth’s calm, confident gaze. She was also, inexplicably, covered in a thin layer of dirt across her chest. 

Georgiana’s eyes landed on Darcy and her face twisted in despair. “Oh, William, I am so sorry. You must hate me!” She shifted uncomfortably as the last of the silver was pulled away.

Elizabeth reacted at once to Georgiana’s agitation by repositioning herself to sit on top of Georgiana’s legs. She laid her hands on Georgiana’s shoulders, her fingers slowly rubbing in the dirt. “Close your eyes, Georgie. Remember what we practiced? You do not need to breathe, but you can go through the motions of it. Good. Just like that. Feel the cold earth on your skin. Can you feel my heart beating?”

“No.”

“Good. Eyes closed. Inhale, exhale, you remember that.” Elizabeth continued to massage the dirt into Georgiana’s chest, but turned to look at Darcy. “She is technically dead - her body wants to be in the ground. A little soil will keep her grounded - forgive the jest - it also obscures her ability to sense our heartbeats. She will eventually be able to control her impulses better without it, but for now….”

Darcy leaned back in his chair with an overwhelming heaviness, fighting the impulse to recoil from his sister. If Elizabeth could be so brave, so magnificently poised, he was determined to match her resolve. “She is technically dead,” he repeated stonily. “She does not look dead - she looks very well indeed.” 

In truth, the sight of Georgiana, even covered in dirt and blood, even after what had transpired downstairs, was still better than what he had begun to fear since her disappearance. He let out a long, slow breath, considering a painful truth: that he could reconcile himself to what he had witnessed this night, and what Georgiana was now, more easily than he could bear to lose her. It was a terrifying prospect, but he would conquer this. 

“I am a monster,” Georgiana murmured.

Elizabeth slowly lifted one of Georgiana’s arms, displaying her wrist to Darcy - the marks left by the silver had already begun to heal. “You are not a monster, dear girl. You are quite remarkable.”

Georgiana opened her eyes and peered up at Elizabeth before turning to look at Darcy. “Brother?” 

“I could never hate you,” Darcy said earnestly. He glanced over at Elizabeth for reassurance before slowly taking Georgiana’s hand in his. “I was so worried - you disappeared, and I feared the worst.”

“And this… is not the worst? You have seen what I am.”

Darcy struggled to formulate his reply. “What you are is safe. You are returned to me; that is enough right now. Whatever must be done, you must know that I would do anything for you.”

The trace of a smile formed on Georgiana’s lips.  “Lizzy said you would be kind to me. I was afraid you would be disgusted - I am disgusted by what I have done - what you have had to do to conceal it….”

Darcy again looked to Elizabeth when words escaped him. She smiled warmly at him, tears in her eyes, and he instinctively handed her his handkerchief. She accepted it and silently dabbed at her eyes for a moment before sliding off of Georgiana’s legs. When Georgiana made no sudden movements, Elizabeth let out a sigh of relief and began to stand. “I fear you have long been desiring my absence - I will leave you now.”

“No,” Georgiana cried, as Darcy echoed the same reply. In a frighteningly swift movement, Georgiana latched onto Elizabeth’s hand, and then released it. “Good God, I hurt you!”

“No,” Elizabeth said quickly, but she rubbed at the place where Georgiana had grabbed her. “I will stay, if you wish it, but you must practice your movements. Slow and soft. You do not know your own strength.”

Georgiana visibly relaxed. Elizabeth remained at her side, and began making slow gestures with her hands. “Mirror me, like this. It will feel natural with practice, and in time you will be quite proficient.”

Darcy watched Elizabeth in awe. He had teased her for not being afraid of him, but she had every reason to fear his sister. “Where did you learn this, Miss Bennet?”

She kept her voice neutral and her eyes on Georgiana, who had begun to mimic Elizabeth’s simple gestures. “My Uncle Silas is something of an expert concerning vampires.”

Darcy’s whole body clenched. He knew, but he had not been ready to hear the word spoken aloud. His mind rejected what he had seen - such creatures were the stuff of stories - and yet before him was proof to the contrary. “How can this be possible?”

Elizabeth lowered her hands and glanced over at him, giving Darcy an arch look and a shrug of her shoulders. “I cannot say, sir, but I find it fascinating.”

“That is one word for it.” Darcy, Elizabeth, and Georgiana all looked up at once as Richard strode into the room. “But I should like to hear from my cousin exactly how such a thing came to be, and why we have had to endure such a night as this.”

***

Georgiana had been too distracted by Elizabeth's calming presence to notice Richard come into the room, and his severity was a harsh surprise. Once again her agitation took hold of her, and Georgiana fought against her impulse to fly at her cousin. There was a weight on her legs as Elizabeth perched there once more, but it was her gaze that stilled Georgiana at last. 

Richard made no secret of his disgust at what she had become, and a glance at William told Georgiana that her brother was only doing a better job of concealing his revulsion. Only Elizabeth was truly at ease in her presence; this woman was a stranger to her, while William and Richard were her family. And so was Lady Catherine. 

“I am sorry, I am so sorry,” she moaned, afraid to meet anyone’s eye but Elizabeth’s.

Georgiana could sense her new friend’s annoyance, but realized that it was directed at Richard. She followed Elizabeth’s gaze over to William, and the snarly feeling of anger faded into something softer; Georgiana did not understand it - indeed, she understood little of what had passed in the last four months, but as the tension of the moment abated, she felt ready to speak rationally at last. “I will tell you whatever you wish to know.”

Elizabeth seemed pleased by the evenness of Georgiana’s voice, and after asking Richard to sit, she slid off of Georgiana’s legs and once again perched on the side of the bed. Georgiana entwined one hand with Elizabeth’s, and with her other hand she softly touched the dirt on her chest. It was an odd treatment, but stranger still was the realization that there was still a great deal Georgiana did not understand about herself. 

“I have been made a vampire,” she said, the statement nearly a question. “I have seen and done such horrible things - I cannot bear my own existence!” She began to sob, and again Elizabeth rubbed the dirt into her skin.

“Who did this to you? Tell me,” Richard thundered. Both William and Elizabeth sent him matching looks of warning, and he drew back in his chair. “Please, Georgie. I only wish to understand.”

Georgiana wrung her hands; she knew herself to be a vicious, bloodthirsty demon, but she was suddenly more frightened than anybody in the room. She could not bear the censure that would inevitably come. It was devastating enough to recall the events that she had endured - her abduction, transformation, captivity, and months of starvation - yet it hurt more deeply to consider that her family might cast her off after all. 

“I am so ashamed,” she whimpered, trembling as she leaned into Elizabeth’s shoulder. She was immediately drawn into an embrace; she made herself savor the human warmth of it, and not the heartbeat that sang to her. 

William slowly rose from his chair, his movements careful as he came to sit on Georgiana’s other side. He, too, wrapped his arms around her, and after a moment the faint smell of fear turned into something much sweeter. She looked up at his face and an incredible feeling washed over her. “Oh,” she murmured. “It is love. I did not know the smell of it, before.”

With a pained smile, William stroked her cheek; Georgiana closed her eyes again and let the warmth and affection wash over her, until William’s voice pulled her out of the brief reverie. “Was it Wickham? Did he do this to you, Georgie?”

Elizabeth drew in a sharp breath; Georgiana could feel her new friend’s heart quicken. She pulled away and buried her face in her brother’s chest. “Yes, it was.”

***

Elizabeth recoiled and instinctively looked at Mr. Darcy, who met her gaze as he cradled his shaking sister. With a sinking feeling, she recalled their conversation at the Netherfield ball - she had accused Mr. Darcy of cruelty toward the man, when he had tried to warn her. “But I do not understand… he was in the regiment….”

“He left Meryton for London just days before Georgiana disappeared from Matlock House,” Mr. Darcy said. 

Colonel Fitzwilliam swore and pounded his fist against the arm of his chair. “I knew there was some connection there.”

Elizabeth was still struggling to accept this shocking revelation. “Georgiana, are you saying… George Wickham changed you? He is a vampire?”

“He is,” Georgiana wailed, still clinging to her brother. “He is a monster.”

Reeling, Elizabeth attempted to console the trembling vampire; her hand brushed against Mr. Darcy’s and his fingers curled around hers. For a brief instant he looked at Elizabeth with the same intensity as he had done at the pianoforte that evening. She was strangely soothed by the certainty that there was indeed admiration in his ardent gaze, though this time there was panic and tremendous sorrow there as well - and a sense of shared calamity. 

The colonel stood and began to pace. “I do not know how, but I am going to find him, and I will kill him for this.” 

“No,” Georgiana said, finally looking up from her brother’s embrace. “I mean to do it myself.”

Wow! This was quite an excerpt? What did Georgiana do? Who did she kill? I am wanting answers. We know who turned her, but what is the rest of the story. You have piqued the imagination with this scene, Jayne. Thank you for sharing it with me and my readers today.

Dear Readers, if you haven't read the book yet, you can get your copy of North Fanger at Amazon. You might win it too! The giveaway link is the last thing on the post.

Have you visited the other blogs in the blog tour? If you have missed any, the blogs in the tour are listed below. You can also see which stops are yet to come! 

Now for the giveaway - Jayne is giving away one eBook of North Fanger. Use the Rafflecopter link below to enter. Good luck everyone!

https://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/01b2829a6/

And the winner is... Be Your Own Heroine

 It was so nice to have Sophie Andrews and her sister Charlotte visit my blog. They cowrote a lovely book and you can read my review. The publisher  of the book, Be Your Own Heroine, generously offered a hardbound copy for one of my readers. 

And the winner of Be Your Own Heroine by Sophie and Charlotte Andrews is:

dstoutholcomb

Congratulations, Denise! You will love adding this book to your library. 

I'll be emailing you shortly with the information I need.

Thank you to everyone who stopped by and shared your thoughts.

Be Your Own Heroine...Sophie and Charlotte Andrews

It has been some time since I had a post on my blog. What better way to return and share some of my thoughts than with the Andrews sisters! It is a pleasure to have Sophie and Charlotte, the authors of Be Your Own Heroine, as my guests. Sophie has been a friend for many years, and I am happy to have her here, along with her sister, Charlotte. Welcome, ladies. I wish you success with your book. It is lovely that you wrote it together. I like the book cover and illustrations too! 

Before I share my thoughts with you, let me give you some background on these two lovely ladies.

Author Biography:

Sophie and Charlotte Andrews are sisters who both love to lose themselves in books. Charlotte’s passion for reading and writing began in her earliest years. She studied Latin American literature as part of her degree at Warwick University, but especially enjoys historical fiction. Younger sister Sophie appreciates many different genres – however her true love is for all things Jane Austen, an enthusiasm that was initially sparked by studying Pride and Prejudice at school. She started her blog, Laughing with Lizzie, in 2012, aged 16, and soon began to participate in Austen events and festivals around the country. As a founder member of the Jane Austen Pineapple Appreciation Society, she organizes house parties, balls and picnics and starred in the 2017 BBC documentary “My Friend Jane”. Her first book, Be More Jane, was published in 2019 by CICO Books. Sophie lives in Berkshire.

Would you like to contact them or visit Sophie's blog? The contact information is below:

Contact Links:

Laughing with Lizzie Blog

Laughing with Lizzie Facebook page

Laughing with Lizzie Instagram page

Laughing with Lizzie Twitter page

Sophie's email: s.j.andrews@hotmail.co.uk

*****

Be Your Own Heroine by Sophie and Charlotte Andrews

My thoughts and impressions:

The life lessons from literature center on six fictional characters or heroines:

1.      Elizabeth Bennet, Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen

2.      Jo March, Little Women by Louisa May Alcott

3.      July, The Long Song by Andrea Levy

4.      Eleanor, Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine by Gail Honeyman

5.      Katniss Everdeen, The Hunger Games, a trilogy by Suzanne Collins

6.      Hermione Granger, Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowlings

Although I was unfamiliar with some of these heroines, each has her own section where the reader learns a little about her, her life, her strengths, and a memorable moment in her life. How did each of these leading ladies become a heroine? What made each of them? Who contributed? These are just a few of the questions covered by the Andrews sisters. They talk about family, friendships, love, and even bullying. At the end of each section, there are three bullets to stress the important lessons to be gleaned. I liked those and felt they could be beneficial to all readers.

In general, we should learn to love ourselves and know we do not have to be alone. We don’t have to be perfect, but we should strive to improve our less than desirable traits. We should be proud of who we are and where we come from. Who could not benefit from those lessons?

The simple truths found in this little book are good food for thought. The words within can be and should be an inspiration for women of all ages, especially so for those who are trying to find their path in life.

I enjoyed reading quotes from other books besides the six with the chosen heroines. These quotes were scattered throughout the sections in pertinent places. Be Your Own Heroine is interesting and a delight to read. It gave me a few things to ponder and improve. Congratulations, Sophie and Charlotte, on a job well done.

*****

To purchase this book, visit Amazon.com or Amazon.co.UK

*****

My teenage granddaughter is living with me right now, and this is a book that would be helpful to her. I look forward to hearing her thoughts after she has read it. Would you like to read more about this book and its authors? If you do, there is one more stop on the blog tour. Be sure to visit it tomorrow, or go back and visit any you might have missed.

It is giveaway time! Yay! We all like a giveaway, and this is a book you will love having in your library. The publishers, CICO Books, are allowing me to give away one hard bound copy of the book, Be Your Own Heroine, by Sophie and Charlotte Andrews. Leave a comment below to be entered. Have you read it? What are your thoughts? Who are your heroines? Do you have a life lesson learned that you want to share? Please let us know your thoughts below. The giveaway is international and will end on the 29th of October at midnight US Central Time. Good luck to all and thank you for stopping by today!

Kellynch: Dragon Persuasion...Maria Grace

Maria Grace is my guest today, and she is announcing the release of 

Kellynch: Dragon Persuasion. She is also going to share some "eye-rolling" words with us. :) Maria, you made me smile when I read your post. Of course, there were dragons in Jane Austen's time! (Did I copy part of that from your book banner, or do great minds think alike?) lol 

Dear Readers, please give this lovely lady a chance to explain! Maria, it's all yours!

*****

Thanks for having me Janet!. I’m utterly tickled to announce that the Persuasion arc of my Jane Austen’s Dragons series is complete with the release of

You’re not the first to roll their eyes at me and mutter that—I’ve raised three teenaged sons after all. I’m sure you expect an answer like “Because zombies, vampires and werewolves have already been done.” And while that is utterly true, and the sort of thing I might say if you caught me at just the right—or wrong—moment, it isn’t a very good answer.

You’re rolling your eyes at me again. But give me a chance and hear me out.

Why, you say? (Seriously, stop muttering at me under your breath, I can hear you!)

Even the father of fabled King Arthur has a dragon connection. King Uther Pendragon was said to have seen a dragon shaped comet that inspired the dragons that graced the standards he carried. With dragons just about everywhere in English myth, it seems likely that Jane Austen herself was familiar with many of these dragon legends.

So, what if (A word of caution, when a writer says “what if”, it might be a good time to politely excuse yourself…) those dragon myths contained a large helping of reality and there really were dragons in England? What it they weren’t just a thing of the medieval era, but continued to be a very real presence in British society into the modern era? How might that work? That would require a research trip back Uther Pendragon and his dragon encounter.

So, what if Uther Pendragon was embroiled in battle not just with the Saxons, but with dragons as well and he saw a real dragon who could speak with him, not just a comet as most stories suggested? Would not others have heard it too? Wait, no—what if the dragons had a way of hiding in plain sight that only a select few people could see through and Uther was one of those and made peace with dragonkind…

Suddenly I saw a world, hundreds of years removed from medieval England, where mankind and dragonkind could coexist, governed by the Blue Order, an organization founded by Uther Pendragon himself, on human and dragon partnership, dedicated to protecting the safety and interests of both species while keeping the dragons secret from the very large segment of the human population with hearing insufficient to detect dragon voices.

Here's a little preview of what that world might look like:

_________

August 15, 1814

Laconia, the cat-like tatzelwurm, wound himself around Wentworth’s feet as he walked the stony street to the Blue Order office in Lyme. People bustled about, with all the accompanying noise that did nothing so much as remind one that he was no longer at sea and the master of his own ship. Sunny, bordering on hot, the salty sea breeze clipped the edge off the heat and left the shadows beside the buildings notably cooler, almost chilly. A number of people stopped and stared at the sight, not so much because he was walking with a tatzelwurm, but rather because they saw Laconia as an enormous cat, weaving in and out through his strides.

Though it looked like a difficult, intricate dance, Laconia had been doing it since he was a wyrmling. It had become more difficult as he had grown into a substantial creature, nearly three stones in weight with height and length to match, but Laconia insisted. While he was well able to protect himself now, the scars of his hatching trauma still plagued him. Laconia never felt very comfortable in unfamiliar places, around unfamiliar people—he rarely got much more than an arm’s length away from Wentworth in such situations.

Like most offices of the Blue Order, this one was entirely indistinguishable from the ordinary buildings on either side of it. Far smaller than the great office in London where Wentworth was first presented to and accepted by the Order, this one appeared little different from the first-rate townhouses on either side of it. Four-stories tall, white brick front with black wrought-iron work, balanced, symmetrical windows on either side, with curtains drawn to block the view from the street. Beneath would be several stories of basement levels with connections to the dragon tunnels that passed through all of England.

The corner of his lips turned up. How surprised the other residents would be to learn what was really going on in the house or that the unusual number of large birds of prey perched along the roof were a cockatrice guard company. Frankly, he still was, and he had known about it for years.

Brass door knockers—drake’s heads holding large rings—rose from the great blue doors. That was how one could always tell a Blue Order establishment; the doors were this particular shade of blue. Apparently, the color was made especially for the Order. Order members in the colorman’s guilds controlled it quite carefully, so it might only be sold for use on Blue Order buildings. Naturally they had the help of a few conveniently placed companion dragons to convince stubborn customers that green was really a most fashionable color.

He twisted the signet ring on his left little finger—now that he was beached, it was appropriate he wore it. Order members liked to be able to identify one another.

Wentworth rapped on the door. A blue liveried butler, tall, serious, and foreboding opened it, stepping slightly to the right to completely fill up the doorway and block the entry.

“Mrrrow.” Laconia looked up at him, sniffing the air, tail lashing around Wentworth’s ankle.

The man’s eyes widened just a bit, but he held his ground until Wentworth lifted his left hand and his ring—perhaps a mite too close to the butler’s face.

“

The butler shut the door behind them. “Come this way.”

They followed him into a large receiving room, facing the mews. Two large windows, sheer white drapes obscuring the view, lined the far wall. It smelt a mite musty, as though the windows had not been open in quite some time. Many places seemed to smell musty these days. Was it just that all buildings smelt that way when one was accustomed to open air? White paper hangings with Order-blue vines or lines or whatever they were called, covered the walls. The occasional pastel fairy dragon peeked around the vines here and there, probably to make it all more interesting, but utterly unrealistic. Had the artist ever seen what the creatures actually looked like? What was wrong with a simple plain color, or even white?

Two tall, oaken bookcases, showcasing books published by the Order, stood proudly flanking the fireplace opposite the windows while a third filled up the wall between the windows. A slightly worn tea table and several similarly serviceable card tables served as focal points for several clusters of lyre-back chairs near the far wall. Couches, covered in something rusty-colored, with dragon-claw-and-ball feet filled up the rest of the space. The whole effect was rather welcoming, and blissfully quiet. The only other occupants were two brown minor drakes wearing Order livery badges, studying a tome at a table near the windows.

“Wait here, please. The Admiral will receive you shortly.” The butler bowed and strode out.

Wentworth took Laconia to a small couch bathed in the sunbeam from the window opposite the drakes. He sat and helped Laconia arrange himself on his lap. “Are you well?”

Laconia grumbled, which to most sounded like a growl. But once one heard Laconia truly growl, one never mistook one for the other again. “I am fine.”

Wentworth stroked his silky black fur and scratched behind his ears. “I know the place smells very odd, but you will grow used to it.”

“That is easy for you to say. You have never had a smell warn you a larger dragon was about to try and make you his breakfast.”

“That was quite the interesting morning, was it not? I would have been consumed right along with you. I do quite remember how that feels.” Perhaps Croft was right, he should write that adventure as a monograph on the territorial nature of sea drakes and submit it to the Order for publication. It was quite the story.

Laconia pressed his cheek into Wentworth’s hand. “But you did not smell it coming.” His tail thumped dully against the cushions as he opened his mouth and flicked his forked tongue in the air.

“You are not accustomed to the smells of land. Anything that does not reek of salt air smells wrong to you.”

“While I much prefer that smell

“As is the term warm-blood—when used by a dragon.”

“When they do not offend my olfaction—”

“Ahh, Captain Wentworth!” Admiral Easterly strode in.

Laconia flicked his tongue against Easterly’s hand. Some of the tension left his shoulders and he rubbed his cheek against Easterly’s palm.

“You have become quite the legend in the Navy—the luckiest ship’s cat you are called. We could have done with a dozen more like you finding prize ships out there.”

“Then why assign so many dragon-deaf as captains?”

Wentworth and Easterly chuckled.

“One can only work with what one has. Come back to my office.” Easterly led them upstairs to a room that faced the mews.

The office was small by the standards of landed accommodations, but spacious to any ship’s captain. Stark white walls, bare as the clean and polished wood floor; their footsteps echoing off both. Tidy and efficient. Shelves near the window held a sextant, a telescope and books on navigation and nautical dragons—oh! There was one he had not read:

“Might I borrow that?” Wentworth pointed to the volume.

In a single movement, Easterly pulled the book from the shelf, handed it to Wentworth and pointed to a chair near the worn, dark oak desk that occupied the center of the narrow room. “Ever hungry for learning, aren’t you! Of course, you can. In fact, I would even recommend it, given what I have to talk with you about. Sit, sit, be comfortable

Laconia chirruped a sound of approval. Coiling his tail to use like a spring, he launched himself to the desktop. He circled the pillow, sniffing it deeply, fanged jaws half-open and eyes a little glazed. What—rather who—had been there before?

“Do not worry, she does not mind sharing this particular perch. Mina is resigned that my office is a public place.”

“I did not know you had a Friend once again.” Wentworth drew the wooden armchair close to the dragon pillow and sat down.

“She befriended me when her previous Friend died, another old Admiral. She likes sea-faring men, after they have retired. Mina does not like to sail herself.” Easterly looked over his shoulder toward the bookcase.

A fluffy grey head peeked out from behind the bookcase. “Meyrrrrow.” High and feminine, it was almost as though she spoke with an accent.

“Pray come out and be introduced.”

Mina slither-crept into the light and looked up at Easterly. Perhaps only half Laconia’s size, she seemed small, though by feline standards she was certainly substantial. Long and lithe, the silver fur of her front, feline half blended seamlessly into gleaming silver scales on her serpentine tail. Stars above, she was a gorgeous creature. Intelligent deep blue eyes stared up at him, searching his character, his worthiness to be an acquaintance—or at least it looked very much that way.

Laconia chirruped at her. She regarded him a moment, eyes growing very large. Her jaw opened slightly; her fangs evident as she breathed deep. “Mrrroww!” She sprang to the desk near Easterly.

“Mina, may I present Laconia and Wentworth, Friend of Laconia.”

Wentworth bowed from his shoulders to Mina and Laconia dipped his head slightly, but not below Mina’s. Ah, yes, dominance, it was always dominance with dragons.

She regarded Wentworth a moment longer, then turned to Laconia. She leaned toward him and sniffed rapidly. Laconia mirrored her. He stepped forward to sniff her neck. When she admitted the attention, he slithered closer, drawing his nose down her entire length as she did the same for him, flowing in a large draconic circle on the desktop. The circle stopped, and she ducked under him, rubbing the top of her head against his belly. He purred and pressed down a mite as though to embrace her as she did.

She slithered around to face him. Wide eyed and blinking, was it possible for a tatzelwurm to be drunk? Dragon thunder! Laconia wore the same expression.

“Yourrr visit is welcome.” She pressed her cheek to Laconia’s.

Laconia licked her face and rubbed his cheek against hers. “Your scent … is right.” He purred and sighed and licked his lips.

 She purred and hopped on the pillow, curling into a dainty ball with her chin resting coyly on her tail. Laconia followed, curling around her and resting his chin on her shoulder. By Jove, that was an awfully friendly arrangement.

Easterly lifted his eyebrows and shrugged.

“Your

“Yes, yes indeed.” Easterly tugged his jacket straight and sat down. “I am not sorry to hear you have been beached for the foreseeable future. I know that is anathema to many Captains, but truly, we need men like you for the Order.”

“Like me?” So many things that could mean, and not all of them complimentary.

“Proven dragon-hearing men who can follow orders, who can manage themselves in a crisis, and make good decisions on their own. Exactly what the Navy has trained you for.”

Laconia’s ears pricked, and he fixed his eyes on Easterly, wrapping his tail a little tighter around Mina.

“What is happening?”

“Where dragons are concerned, there are always a great many things happening. But, since the revolution in France and most recently the war with Napoleon has affected the continental dragons, times are especially turbulent.”

“What has that to do with English dragons?” Wentworth crossed his arms and leaned in, heart beating faster. Damn battle reflexes kicking in.

The tip of Laconia’s tail twitched and his forked tongue flicked. He felt it, too.

“Major dragons along the coast, both land and the few marine ones we have relations with, have been on edge watching for signs of invasion. I will tell you privately, it is a good thing that never happened. The Pendragon Accords were never written to consider the ramifications of an invading foreign army from the continent.”

“Why not? The Romans—”

Easterly lifted open hands. “Yes, yes, just chalk it up to arrogance. It is a problem that is being addressed in London even now. A joint committee of dragons and Blue Order Officers, including representatives of both the Army and Navy, is attempting to draft new provisions to deal with the matter. But in the meantime, we must soothe ruffled scales as it were, and I need Dragon Mates like you to do it.”

“Whose scales are ruffled?” Laconia’s tail twitched faster.

“Have you met Cornwall?”

“The Prince Regent or the firedrake?” Prickles started at Wentworth’s scalp and raced down every limb.

“Either, both? They are not exactly dissimilar.” The admiral snorted. “Of course, I never said such a thing.”

“Of course not,” Wentworth muttered.

“In any case, we have received a number of complaints from minor dragons of the Cornwall Keep. Cornwall has been unusually restive of late. They fear there is something seriously the matter and, worse still, Cornwall is contemplating handling the matter himself. It is rarely a good idea to permit major dragons to manage affairs on their terms.”

“Is that not what the Accords are for?” Blood roared in Wentworth’s ears. He fought the urge to spring to his feet.

“It is precisely why there are Keepers assigned to the major dragons, charged with handling issues for the dragons. While I have known a great many hotheaded and stubborn men, I have yet to meet one who rivals the amount of damage an angry dragon can cause.”

“Then why is the Prince Regent not managing the matter?”

Easterly glowered.

That had been a stupid question.

“The key issue here is that a particular kind of diplomacy is needed—”

“You think Laconia and I are suited for that?” Wentworth sneaked a quick glance at Laconia.

“I need a man who has had dealings with nautical dragons, as the matter involves sea hold property.”

Now he had to move! Wentworth jumped up and paced the length of the far too short room. “

“That is the heart of the current debate. Here.” Easterly plucked a thin red leather-bound volume—a monograph perhaps—off the shelf and handed it to Wentworth as he strode past. Determining the Boundaries of Major Dragon Holdings: The Implications and Complications of Instinctive Dragon Territorial Determinations Intersecting with Human Traditions and Law.

Damn, that looked complicated.

“Unfortunately, the legal codes have not been rendered very clearly. In the current situation, I am not even certain Blue Order codes cover the situation.”

“And what precisely is the situation.” Wentworth fell into his seat with a dull thud.

“Cornwall has laid claim to something off his coast that we are not even sure exists.” Easterly pressed his temples hard.

“So, the dragon might be mad?”

“Some have entertained that possibility.”

“You want us to go and confront a fire drake—a royal firedrake—who may well be touched in the head—as mad as the king himself?” Wentworth dropped the monograph on the desk.

Mina started; Laconia glared at him.

“In short, yes. And, the Prince Regent might also be very interested in the matter, should the news reach him directly.”

“The Prince does not know the nature of the situation?”

“He has not informed us of any problem and the Order has not contacted him regarding the complaints—yet.”

“You must be joking? That amounts to keeping secrets from the crown!” Wentworth threw his head back and huffed. “I might be beached, but I am hardly dicked in the nob myself, and I am quite certain Laconia—”

“We have dealt with worse.” Laconia lifted his head slightly, glancing from Easterly to Wentworth. “You recall that sea drake who tried to refuse to grant us passage through her territory? She had an entire battalion of sea drakes and marine wyrms ready to do battle for the territory.”

“What has that to do with—”

“Or the herd of hippocampi who thought you violated their fishing ground?’

“Again, what has that to do—”

Laconia stood and walked across the desk to look Wentworth in the eye. “What else are you going to do until you find a mate?”

Wentworth’s jaw dropped and he sputtered. “Dragon’s blood and sea foam!”

“You will mind your language around my mate.” Laconia glanced back at Mina and chirruped.

“Your mate?” Wentworth and Easterly said simultaneously.

“Yes.” The tatzelwurms hissed.

 ot be at loose ends right now. You must have a way of keeping yourself occupied until …”

Wentworth slapped his forehead. “How do you intend for us to get to Cornwall?”

________________________

Is it a little off the beaten path for Austenesque fiction? Absolutely! But what better time to try out something entirely new and different than a year like 2020?

 

If you’d like to have a peek at more previews, check them out on my website, RandomBitsofFascinaion.com.  The Dragons of Kellynch and Kellynch: Dragon Persuasion

 _______________________

Dragons of Kellynch  

 In order to secure her future, a young lady must marry well.

One would think Anne Elliot, a baronet’s daughter, would find the marriage mart far easier to navigate than a more ordinary woman. One would be wrong.

After refusing a poor, but otherwise perfect sailor, on the advice of her friend Lady Russell, Anne finds an unhappy choice before her: marry deathly dull Charles Musgrove or hope against hope that another suitable proposal might come her way before she becomes a spinster on the shelf.

Anne’s disgracefully independent choice to refuse Charles’ offer turns her world entirely arsey-varsey and not in the expected

And once one sees dragons, one talks to them. And when one talks to them, nothing is ever the same again.

Must a young lady marry well if she hears dragons? 

https://books2read.com/DragonsofKellynch

 

 ~~~~~

Kellynch: Dragon Persuasion

Keeping a hibernating dragon should have been a simple thing.

 

Should have been, but it was not. Apparently, nothing involving dragons was ever simple, at least not for Anne Elliot, junior Keeper to dragon Kellynch.

 

With the estate in debt, Anne’s father in denial, and the dragon’s treasure missing, Kellynch’s awakening was shaping up to be nothing short of catastrophe. Not to mention there was the pesky matter of her own broken heart and resentment against the old friend who had caused it.

 

Captain Frederick Wentworth had spent his life making something of himself in the Navy. With the

 

Working as an agent of the Blue Order, managing dragon matters across England, seemed a much better alternative. At least until investigating one such matter sent him directly in the path of Anne Elliot, the woman who had ruined him for all others.

 

Now a royal dragon rages, a sleeping dragon lurks, and too many treasures have gone missing. Can Anne and Wentworth lay aside resentment, pride, and heartbreak to prevent Kellynch’s awakening from ending in bloodshed—or worse?

 

Jane Austen meets Pern in a fantastical regency romp bound to delight readers of Jane Austen and Anne McCaffrey alike.

 

https://books2read.com/KellynchDragonPersuasion

 

Six-time BRAG Medallion Honoree, Maria Grace has her PhD in Educational Psychology and is a 16-year veteran of the university classroom where she taught courses in human growth and development, learning, test development and counseling. None of which have anything to do with her undergraduate studies in economics/sociology/managerial studies/behavior sciences. She pretends to be a mild-mannered writer/cat-lady, but most of her vacations require helmets and waivers or historical costumes, usually not at the same time.

 

She writes gas lamp fantasy, historical romance and non-fiction to help justify her research addiction. Her books are available at all major online booksellers.  

 

She can be contacted at:

author.MariaGrace@gmail.com

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*****

 

Maria, before I say anything else, I have tell you how pretty and eye-catching all your dragon covers are. I think they are so neat! 

Your post was delightful. Thank you for stopping by and explaining to my readers and me about your dragons. I also enjoyed the excerpt. I hear many good comments about your dragon books. I wish you the best on this new one as well. Persuasion is my second favorite Jane Austen book so this one is perfect. 

Maria Grace is giving away one eBook of Kellynch: Dragon Persuasion.

And the winners are...

I have some winners to announce. All have been informed and probably already have their eBooks. They will have some good reading hours. For those of you that entered, but didn't win,

please stop and comment on the future giveaways.

Nicole Clarkston gave away three eBooks of Tempted. 

The three winners are:

Cyndy Henry

Unknown (Madenna)

Rosa

*****

The next giveaway was for one eBook of Victoria Kincaid's Rebellion at Longbourn. 

The winner is:

BCherrington

*****

Bronwen Chisholm also gave away one eBook of Missing Jane. That winner is:

J. W. Garrett

*****

Congratulations to each of you!

We appreciate your support of all the visiting authors, and I especially, appreciate your support of my blog. I hope to see you visit the other authors making guest appearances in the future. Later on this month, Jayne Bamber is my guest. Be sure to watch for that post on Tuesday, the 28th of July.

Thank you Nicole Clarkston, Victoria Kincaid, and Bronwen Chisholm for visiting More Agreeably Engaged. You are always welcome to stop by anytime. 

Murder at Northanger Abbey...Shannon Winslow

Good evening to you. I'm happy to have you stop by my blog today! Shannon Winslow is my guest, and she is sharing an excerpt from her latest release, Murder at Northanger Abbey. I'm excited about this novel, Shannon. I have always enjoyed Northanger Abbey, and your book sounds awesome. I hope it is doing well for you. Thanks for sharing this excerpt. Enjoy, Dear Readers.

Thanks so much, Janet, for inviting me to stop by More Agreeably Engaged on my blog tour with my latest novel. This time I’ve come up with something a little different – a tongue-in-cheek murder mystery, full of intrigue, humor, and of course, romance!

I love ALL of Jane Austen’s novels, and hope to write at least one book related to each of hers. So I’m thrilled to now share my salute to Northanger Abbey – my interpretation of what happens next with Catherine and Henry Tilney in my sequel Murder at Northanger Abbey. This is a never-before-seen excerpt from chapter 2, where the main action of the book is set into motion by the arrival at Woodston parsonage of a very unexpected invitation. I hope you will enjoy this bit of banter between the newlyweds!

~~*~~

“What do you make of it, Henry?” Catherine asked.

They were standing in the hall, both staring in wonder at the invitation Henry held in his hand, as if it might have come from another planet, when in fact it had originated less than twenty miles away.

“It is about the last thing I expected,” said he. “I am amazed enough that my father should contemplate such a thing at all – giving a fancy-dress ball on All Hallows Eve – let alone that we should be invited to it.”

“Perhaps this time he has decided to really forgive us for marrying,” Catherine said brightly. “Perhaps the invitation is his way of showing we are now truly welcome to Northanger Abbey again.”

“I suppose it is possible,” Henry said, sounding dubious. “It would be more like him than a straightforward apology or an admission that he had been wrong in any way, which I should never expect from him in an hundred years. Still, I cannot be quite easy about it either. I wonder…”

“Do you think Eleanor will be there?” cried Catherine of a sudden, interrupting her husband. “Although I know I should call her Lady Astley, now that she is married and a viscountess. Oh, how I should love to see her again!”

Henry laughed. “Your mind leaps ahead so rapidly, my darling, that I cannot keep up. While I am still considering if we should accept this invitation, no doubt you have already decided what costume you shall wear to the event and what feats you shall perform to amaze the crowd.”

“I have done no such thing, Henry! It is only that I so long to see your sister, as I daresay you do just as strongly, if only you would admit to it. We owe so much of our happiness to her, and we never had the chance to thank her properly!”

“My dear Catherine, although I agree that my sister is everything that is virtuous and kind, you should not imagine she married a man of title and fortune just to throw my father into a more charitable humor for our sakes. You know yourself that she had long been partial to Jonathan.”

“Yes, but that is even more to the point, Henry. Cannot you see that? For Eleanor to remember us at such a time of long-awaited personal jubilation, to think of speaking to your father on our behalf when her head could have easily been too full of her own concerns and happiness for anything else… That shows how truly amiable she is.”

“Is that what it shows? How stupid of me not to have seen it. You must forgive my thick-headedness, my love. Men are so dense when it comes to social niceties. These things are far beyond me. Once again I say what I told you long ago in Bath, that no one can think more highly of women’s superior understanding than I do. As you will recall, it was (and still is) my opinion that nature has given women so much understanding, in fact, that they never find it necessary to use more than half of what they possess.”

Catherine crossed her arms and gave her husband a stern look. “I remember it very well. But you said it only because you liked to tease me.”

He leant closer so their faces were just inches apart. “That is another thing that has not changed, my dear. Whatever makes you blush must prove irresistible to me, for you are irresistible to me when you blush.” He soundly kissed her to confirm his point.

Afterward, Catherine paused a moment to catch her breath and clear her head. “Very prettily said, sir. But now we are married, you have other more pleasant ways of making me blush.”

“I know!” Henry said with a lift of his brows and a significant gleam in his dark eye.

“So you may safely leave off teasing me so often as you were used to doing.”

“Hmm. There is some merit in what you say, I suppose. But now, as for this invitation,” he said, tossing the card carelessly onto the hall table, “I am inclined to ignore it. I do not trust my father, and my instincts tell me he has something more in mind than generous hospitality and restoring family harmony.” 

~~*~~ 

Henry is right; General Tilney does have something more in mind. But of course, Henry and Catherine go to the ball anyway. If they had not, there would have been no story! Besides, as it says a little further along in this same chapter, It had been ordained. Events that absolutely required their presence were soon to unfold at Northanger; that was the material point. Catherine and Henry’s days of heroism were not over and done with yet. And so, the young couple is off on a grand and potentially life-changing adventure. I hope you’ll go along for the fun!

Well, what do you think? Do you like Northanger Abbey? Do you like the sounds of an actual murder there for Catherine to solve? I do. I'm quite fascinated. If you've read it, tell us in the comments what you think about it. I would love to hear your thoughts.

Thank you for stopping by, Shannon, and for including More Agreeably Engaged in your blog tour. It is always such a pleasure to have you visit. I hope you will stop by when you release your next new novel.

 Do you want to know more about the book? Read the back cover copy and then check out Shannon's website for all the stops on her blog tour. She has some lovely posts and excerpts to share with everyone. Thank you, Shannon.

Murder at Northanger Abbey

Sequel to Jane Austen’s Spoof on the Gothic Novel

Newly married to her beloved Henry, Catherine’s eyes are now open to the grownup pleasures of wedded life. Yet she still hasn’t quite given up her girlhood fascination with all things Gothic. When she first visited Northanger Abbey, she only imagined dreadful events had occurred there. This time the horror is all too real. There’s been a murder, and Henry has fallen under suspicion. Catherine is determined to clear her husband’s name, but at the same time, she’s afraid for her own safety, since there’s a very good chance the real murderer is still in the house.

This delightful sequel reprises the mischievous spirit of Austen’s original spoof on the Gothic novel, while giving Catherine a genuine murder mystery to unravel.