“I believe he will visit Netherfield next week.” Darcy stared bleakly at the pattern on the carpet.
“You should accompany him. Perhaps you can change Miss Elizabeth’s opinion of you.” Richard’s voice was full of hearty encouragement.
Darcy considered it for a moment; perhaps his letter had altered her view of his character, but, no, it could not possibly change enough. He shook his head in despair. “I am afraid it is a hopeless cause. She made that abundantly clear.”
“Surely there is some small reason for hope.”
“She said that she had not known me a month before she knew I was the last man in the world she could be prevailed upon to marry. I defy you to find cause for hope in that.”
Richard gave a low whistle. “That is…impressive…”
Darcy raised his eyebrows in appreciation of Richard’s reaction. “Indeed.”
Richard rubbed his chin with his palm. “Well, she is a spirited woman with decided opinions.”
“Yes.” That is why I love her.
“So, may I ask, what purpose does the port serve?” Richard’s voice was gentler and less teasing. Did he sympathize with Darcy’s despair?
“The theory behind the port is that it dulls the pain and causes me to forget, at least for a little while. It also helps me sleep. And then the following day I feel so awful that I cannot think of anything else.”
“So that is the theory. How does it work in reality?” Richard asked.
Darcy shook his head, realized that it made the room sway, and stopped. “A life in tatters with drink is still a life in tatters.”
“Surely it will get better with time,” Richard said encouragingly.
“So I believed as well, but I have yet to see it.”
“You need a distraction – something to take your mind from her,” Richard mused. Then he stood suddenly. “I know! Some friends and I are going to Paris in two days’ time. You should accompany us. It will provide exactly the distraction you require.”
“Paris?” Darcy’s port-soaked brain was having difficulty absorbing the rapid shift in the conversation.
“Yes, since the Treaty was signed, English visitors have been flocking to the city. We will spend two weeks seeing the marvels of Paris. Come with us!”
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Excerpt of The Vampire of Northanger
Bryce Anderson
At fourteen, as Catherine’s appearances began to mend, so did the rift between her mind and the world of books. It happened on a cool afternoon in late summer, as her brother James packed his belongings. He was preparing to depart for a city of distant mystery called “Oxford,” there to study and become a great… Catherine did not know what. She sat upon her brother’s bed as he packed, cradling what proved to be the tenth and final addition to the family in her arms. Though the infant slept soundly, the girl did not gaze upon it with devotion. The picture presented was instead one of mutual indifference. Her brother—recently grown more fond of her company and more gentle in his teasing—spoke in the most jovial tones as he stuffed one belonging after another into a small chest.
Catherine at last brought forward a question which had long weighed upon her mind. “What will you make of yourself, James?”
“How do you mean?”
“You go off to Oxford. What shall you be when you return?”
“A student, of course. I shall return for Christmas, if not sooner.”
This satisfied Catherine’s inquiry not in the least. “But what shall be your occupation? A physician, perhaps? Or a clergyman like Father? I think your voice is too high for you to be a clergyman, but you do know your Bible well, so perhaps your voice doesn’t signify. Does one go to Oxford to become a coachman?”
“I do not believe so,” James replied. “If I asked for your confidence, would you be able to keep my secret?” What could Catherine do but agree? Her brother’s smile was all mischief as he leaned toward her and whispered, “I wish to become a vampire hunter.”
Catherine found herself utterly insensible to the admission, though her brother clearly expected it to evoke some declaration of horror. “Father hunts ducks in the fall,” she said. “Is it like that, only with vampires?” The look of pity on his face wounded her. “But vampires live in the city, and I suppose they are far more clever than ducks, so it would be nothing like that, would it? Still, it does not seem respectable. Tell me that it’s respectable, won’t you?”
“Respectable? Why, it’s the adventure of a lifetime! The great vampire hunters are welcome in the presence of King George and on the floor of Parliament. A hunter came through the inn last year, and he needed only to show his papers. He didn’t pay for a drink or a meal the whole week of his stay. Yes, dear sister, it is a most respectable profession.”
“But is it dangerous? Are there many vampires left? How does one hunt a—”
“Hush! You are so full of questions, and I’m not sure I have all the answers yet. But if you like, I have a book that, though fiction, I think captures the spirit of the venture admirably. If you like it, I can suggest a dozen others to stand alongside it.”
That night, after every other candle in the house was extinguished, one continued burning into morning, for anyone who has laid hand upon The Blood Soaked Fiends by von Helmut can attest to its powers to drive away any thought of sleep. The next morning, after being roused to accompany James and her parents to meet the public coach, she returned to her room, where she read until she was compelled to sleep, and slept until she was compelled to read. Each page brought new revelation, realizations of what adventure and intrigue awaited a woman fortunate enough to be cursed with a tyrant father and a bed-ridden mother. She saw what charmed a path her life might have taken had she been untimely orphaned, and how the virtues of her soul might be demonstrated only through contact with vice.
Page by page, she awakened to the dullness of her quiet, pastoral life. Page by page, Catherine Morland learned what it meant to be a heroine.
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Excerpt of COMPULSIVE, A Forbidden Romance
Lia Fairchild
“You’re still my patient, aren’t you?”
I turned to face him, knowing my left cheek would be exposed. “If you’ll have me,” I said, holding back tears of shame.
“My God, Gray. What happened to you?”
A tentative reach of his hand toward my face made my breath catch. He stalled before touching two gentle fingers to my chin. “Are you all right? Is there more?”
I shook my head. “I’m fine. It looks worse than it is.” My heart beat a little faster when I read the concern in his eyes.
“Our deal stands whether we’re in my office or not.” Daniel struggled to remain composed. “Who did this to you?” he commanded.
Our deal for honesty wouldn’t be a problem tonight. “I did.”
“Gray.” He looked away as if he was planning his escape.
“That’s the truth, Daniel. I’m responsible. I’m responsible for every bad thing that’s ever happened to me.”
His eyes returned to mine, determined. “No one has the right to lay a hand on you. Do you understand me?”
I nodded, wide-eyed like an obedient child.
“One day…you’re going to rise above your circumstances. You’re going to be a survivor instead of a victim. Your strengths will become assets instead of your downfall. Are you hearing me, Gray?”
His words riveted me like a savior at a sermon. He knew everything about me, though he knew nothing at all. A strong hand engulfed my forearm as if I was sinking in quicksand, and he was my lifeline, a way to claw and climb my way out.
“Every word,” I whispered.
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Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Title Page
Sufficient Encouragement
&nbs
p; Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Epilogue
Renewed Hope
Author's Note
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Rose Fairbanks
Samples from Other Authors
Linda Thompson
Victoria Kincaid
Bryce Anderson
Lia Fairchild
Sufficient Encouragement: A Pride and Prejudice Variation (When Love Blooms Book 1) Page 32