Sarah Courtney's Blog, page 5

Beauty and Mr. Darcy – Georgiana’s story

My original version of Beauty and Mr. Darcy contained a fairy tale for Georgiana in the epilogue. However, in the end, the pacing simply didn’t work to squeeze this story in there, so I pulled it out. However, for anyone who is interested in seeing how Georgiana finds her own love, here’s a little hint of her tale.

July 1815
Greenwood House

Georgiana

Georgiana had survived two seasons in London, and as such, she felt rather like an expert. She had become accustomed to balls and parties and had overcome the shyness that had almost crippled her during her first season. Her new sister-in-law, Elizabeth, had been of great help there. Having an older married sister made the social events of the season a great deal easier.

She had never been to an event in which there was hot air ballooning, though. The balloons were beautiful, and she had almost tripped several times because she could not keep her eyes off their graceful ascent. The idea of actually going up in one, though! She shivered at the thought.

Georgiana had been introduced to so many people that their faces blurred, until her brother stopped before a rather familiar-looking man that he introduced as Lord Garrett.

When Lord Garrett bowed over her hand, she took the opportunity to ask in a way that she never would have dared last season, “Forgive me, Lord Garrett, but have we met?”

He smiled. “There is no way I could have forgotten meeting a beautiful woman like you.”

Georgiana sighed. She did not care for overly flirtatious men. Her experience with George Wickham had taught her that such men were often false. It was too bad, really, as Lord Garrett was quite handsome and tall.

“I apologize,” Lord Garrett said quickly. “That was overly familiar of me. Please forgive me.”

She nodded. She was still uncertain what she thought of him, but he spoke amiably with her brother and sister and showed no other signs of being a flirt. Perhaps she should give him the benefit of the doubt.

Georgiana could not shake the idea that he seemed familiar, though. The way he spoke and walked and laughed all seemed to tug at a memory, but she could not bring it forward.

Finally, it was her group’s turn to ride on the hot air balloon. Georgiana looked up at it dubiously. The balloon itself was far bigger than she had thought when she saw it from a distance. The larger size of the balloon might have made her feel safer as it seemed almost as a big as a ship but for the smallness of the basket.

Darcy and Elizabeth stepped into the basket without ceremony, but Georgiana balked. She could not get her feet to take another step.

Lord Garrett had mounted the basket first of their party but now stepped back down to where she stood. “Are you afraid?” he asked softly.

She shook her head, then nodded, then shrugged. “It seems silly, but I suppose I am.”

“It really is very safe. Think of all the others from this party who have gone up and come down safely. I will make sure you are safe and protected in the basket. Come. Do you trust me?” He held his hand out to her.

The memory that had tantalized her suddenly seemed all that much closer as she was struck with a feeling of déjà vu. “Yes . . .” she said cautiously, taking his hand. He gently tugged her into the basket, and after a few more moments of the ropes being tossed off, the balloon was off and up into the air.

Georgiana’s thoughts soared with the balloon. She remembered being a child of five. She had wandered out into the gardens to play and met a boy a few years older, the son of the undergardener. He showed her how to clip back the hedges with his tool, which she found too difficult to squeeze with her small hands, and then she had been called back in by her nurse.

She met him again and again though. Gradually they had moved from working in the gardens to playing whenever they had the chance. He introduced her to games of tag and climbing trees and exploring. Every time he had invited her on an adventure that had made her nervous, for she had been a timid little thing at first, he had asked, “Do you trust me?” She always had.

He had been there for Georgiana the day her father died and she ran into the gardens to cry. He had hugged her and sung her a song in another language. She had not understood the words, but his voice had been comforting.

After that, she was sent away to school, and she saw him only a few more times. Once, after she turned thirteen and had not seen him or his father in the gardens for some time, she asked the housekeeper if she knew where they were. Mrs. Reynolds had explained that they had moved away. She had been bereft for weeks at the loss of her only friend at Pemberley, but once she had begun to make friends at school, she had forgotten him.

Lord Garrett pointed out Greenwood House, their host’s property. They could even seen Pemberley and other neighboring estates from here, all looking so very small from above. The view was fascinating and yet Georgiana’s mind was full with her revelation. At least, she thought she was right. She was almost sure.

The balloon landed with a bump and Lord Garrett offered her his hand to disembark.

Georgiana accepted it, but on impulse, said, “Thank you, Ian.”

He nodded, then suddenly his eyes flew to hers. They were wide with confirmation. It was him.

They walked back into the crowd as a group, and Georgiana used the moment of cover to whisper, “What are you doing here? Are you not afraid of discovery?”

He blinked at her. “Discovery?”

She rolled her eyes. “Do you have an invitation to be here?”

“Lord Garrett” looked surprised, then his eyes lit with merriment and he burst out laughing. “Oh, dear. You believe that I am an undergardener still? That perhaps I stole my master’s clothes and am attempting to pass myself off as a viscount?”

Now that he put it that way, it did seem a little ridiculous. She could not help but laugh at herself a bit, too. “Well, you always were one for an adventure.”

“Too true. No, indeed, I am a viscount. I left Pemberley, you will recall, when my father inherited a very distant cousin’s estate after his death.”

Georgiana shook her head. “No, I never knew why you left, only that you had moved.”

“Ah.” He stood stock still for a moment, Georgiana with him. He then shook himself and seemed to realize they were falling behind her brother, so they hurried to catch up. Georgiana had never before been quite so relieved at how focused her brother could be on his wife. She was happy enough not to have to share this conversation.

When they reached Darcy, however, he was waiting for them. “Elizabeth and I are ready to go indoors to where the refreshments are,” he said.

“May I take Miss Darcy into the garden for a stroll?” Lord Garrett asked.

Georgiana could tell that her brother was about to say no, but she could not bear the thought. She gave her most imploring look to Elizabeth, who was the softer touch.

Elizabeth laughed lightly. “I believe I am needed as a diligent but deaf chaperone, my dear. Perhaps you would procure me a drink and then rejoin us in the gardens?”

Darcy looked reluctant, but he agreed and went into the house.

“Do not worry,” Elizabeth assured her. “I have extensive experience as a chaperone. I will give you a modicum of privacy.” She proved her worth by staying well back as they entered the gardens.

“Miss Darcy,” Lord Garrett said once they were walking down the rows of rosebushes in the late afternoon sun, “I have a confession to make. When I was a boy, I adored you. I used to go to sleep every night wishing upon the stars that I could be a gentleman some day and woo you.”

Georgiana blushed. “That was a great many years ago. Now you are a viscount and could have your pick of many charming and beautiful ladies in town.” He was handsome enough, to be sure, and nobody would ever care about his origins now that he was a viscount.

He held out his arm to Georgiana. “Perhaps, perhaps not. For now, I have waited more than five years to walk with you arm-in-arm in a garden, and I mean to make the most of it.”

Did you recognize Aladdin? It may have been a little too crowded in Beauty and Mr. Darcy for another fairy tale, but I wanted to make sure that Georgiana, too, got her happy ending.

Beauty and Mr. Darcy – Georgiana's story

My original version of Beauty and Mr. Darcy contained a fairy tale for Georgiana in the epilogue. However, in the end, the pacing simply didn’t work to squeeze this story in there, so I pulled it out. However, for anyone who is interested in seeing how Georgiana finds her own love, here’s a little hint of her tale.

July 1815
Greenwood House

Georgiana

Georgiana had survived two seasons in London, and as such, she felt rather like an expert. She had become accustomed to balls and parties and had overcome the shyness that had almost crippled her during her first season. Her new sister-in-law, Elizabeth, had been of great help there. Having an older married sister made the social events of the season a great deal easier.

She had never been to an event in which there was hot air ballooning, though. The balloons were beautiful, and she had almost tripped several times because she could not keep her eyes off their graceful ascent. The idea of actually going up in one, though! She shivered at the thought.

Georgiana had been introduced to so many people that their faces blurred, until her brother stopped before a rather familiar-looking man that he introduced as Lord Garrett.

When Lord Garrett bowed over her hand, she took the opportunity to ask in a way that she never would have dared last season, “Forgive me, Lord Garrett, but have we met?”

He smiled. “There is no way I could have forgotten meeting a beautiful woman like you.”

Georgiana sighed. She did not care for overly flirtatious men. Her experience with George Wickham had taught her that such men were often false. It was too bad, really, as Lord Garrett was quite handsome and tall.

“I apologize,” Lord Garrett said quickly. “That was overly familiar of me. Please forgive me.”

She nodded. She was still uncertain what she thought of him, but he spoke amiably with her brother and sister and showed no other signs of being a flirt. Perhaps she should give him the benefit of the doubt.

Georgiana could not shake the idea that he seemed familiar, though. The way he spoke and walked and laughed all seemed to tug at a memory, but she could not bring it forward.

Finally, it was her group’s turn to ride on the hot air balloon. Georgiana looked up at it dubiously. The balloon itself was far bigger than she had thought when she saw it from a distance. The larger size of the balloon might have made her feel safer as it seemed almost as a big as a ship but for the smallness of the basket.

Darcy and Elizabeth stepped into the basket without ceremony, but Georgiana balked. She could not get her feet to take another step.

Lord Garrett had mounted the basket first of their party but now stepped back down to where she stood. “Are you afraid?” he asked softly.

She shook her head, then nodded, then shrugged. “It seems silly, but I suppose I am.”

“It really is very safe. Think of all the others from this party who have gone up and come down safely. I will make sure you are safe and protected in the basket. Come. Do you trust me?” He held his hand out to her.

The memory that had tantalized her suddenly seemed all that much closer as she was struck with a feeling of déjà vu. “Yes . . .” she said cautiously, taking his hand. He gently tugged her into the basket, and after a few more moments of the ropes being tossed off, the balloon was off and up into the air.

Georgiana’s thoughts soared with the balloon. She remembered being a child of five. She had wandered out into the gardens to play and met a boy a few years older, the son of the undergardener. He showed her how to clip back the hedges with his tool, which she found too difficult to squeeze with her small hands, and then she had been called back in by her nurse.

She met him again and again though. Gradually they had moved from working in the gardens to playing whenever they had the chance. He introduced her to games of tag and climbing trees and exploring. Every time he had invited her on an adventure that had made her nervous, for she had been a timid little thing at first, he had asked, “Do you trust me?” She always had.

He had been there for Georgiana the day her father died and she ran into the gardens to cry. He had hugged her and sung her a song in another language. She had not understood the words, but his voice had been comforting.

After that, she was sent away to school, and she saw him only a few more times. Once, after she turned thirteen and had not seen him or his father in the gardens for some time, she asked the housekeeper if she knew where they were. Mrs. Reynolds had explained that they had moved away. She had been bereft for weeks at the loss of her only friend at Pemberley, but once she had begun to make friends at school, she had forgotten him.

Lord Garrett pointed out Greenwood House, their host’s property. They could even seen Pemberley and other neighboring estates from here, all looking so very small from above. The view was fascinating and yet Georgiana’s mind was full with her revelation. At least, she thought she was right. She was almost sure.

The balloon landed with a bump and Lord Garrett offered her his hand to disembark.

Georgiana accepted it, but on impulse, said, “Thank you, Ian.”

He nodded, then suddenly his eyes flew to hers. They were wide with confirmation. It was him.

They walked back into the crowd as a group, and Georgiana used the moment of cover to whisper, “What are you doing here? Are you not afraid of discovery?”

He blinked at her. “Discovery?”

She rolled her eyes. “Do you have an invitation to be here?”

“Lord Garrett” looked surprised, then his eyes lit with merriment and he burst out laughing. “Oh, dear. You believe that I am an undergardener still? That perhaps I stole my master’s clothes and am attempting to pass myself off as a viscount?”

Now that he put it that way, it did seem a little ridiculous. She could not help but laugh at herself a bit, too. “Well, you always were one for an adventure.”

“Too true. No, indeed, I am a viscount. I left Pemberley, you will recall, when my father inherited a very distant cousin’s estate after his death.”

Georgiana shook her head. “No, I never knew why you left, only that you had moved.”

“Ah.” He stood stock still for a moment, Georgiana with him. He then shook himself and seemed to realize they were falling behind her brother, so they hurried to catch up. Georgiana had never before been quite so relieved at how focused her brother could be on his wife. She was happy enough not to have to share this conversation.

When they reached Darcy, however, he was waiting for them. “Elizabeth and I are ready to go indoors to where the refreshments are,” he said.

“May I take Miss Darcy into the garden for a stroll?” Lord Garrett asked.

Georgiana could tell that her brother was about to say no, but she could not bear the thought. She gave her most imploring look to Elizabeth, who was the softer touch.

Elizabeth laughed lightly. “I believe I am needed as a diligent but deaf chaperone, my dear. Perhaps you would procure me a drink and then rejoin us in the gardens?”

Darcy looked reluctant, but he agreed and went into the house.

“Do not worry,” Elizabeth assured her. “I have extensive experience as a chaperone. I will give you a modicum of privacy.” She proved her worth by staying well back as they entered the gardens.

“Miss Darcy,” Lord Garrett said once they were walking down the rows of rosebushes in the late afternoon sun, “I have a confession to make. When I was a boy, I adored you. I used to go to sleep every night wishing upon the stars that I could be a gentleman some day and woo you.”

Georgiana blushed. “That was a great many years ago. Now you are a viscount and could have your pick of many charming and beautiful ladies in town.” He was handsome enough, to be sure, and nobody would ever care about his origins now that he was a viscount.

He held out his arm to Georgiana. “Perhaps, perhaps not. For now, I have waited more than five years to walk with you arm-in-arm in a garden, and I mean to make the most of it.”

Did you recognize Aladdin? It may have been a little too crowded in Beauty and Mr. Darcy for another fairy tale, but I wanted to make sure that Georgiana, too, got her happy ending.

Release Day!

Hey, everyone! I’m really excited, because today is release day for Beauty and Mr. Darcy. I absolutely love this book. When I was editing, I would need to reread a scene here or there, and I would end up getting sucked into the story and couldn’t put it down–and that’s after I wrote it and I knew exactly where the scene was going! So I’m really hoping that you love it just as much.

Both the ebook and the paperback are available now at https://smile.amazon.com/Beauty-Mr-Darcy-Prejudice-Variation-ebook/dp/B081HW262B/ . Yes, I managed to get myself together a bit earlier this time so that the paperback was released at pretty much the same time. I think getting the paperback out earlier helped with getting the two linked, too.

I did have to charge more for the paperback this time, because this book is bigger. Seriously, it’s a behemoth! A Good Name was something like 90k words, but Beauty and Mr. Darcy is 135k words, so it’s a fat book!

The book was featured on Anna’s blog, “Diary of an Eccentric,” yesterday! Check it out to see a feature on the story,an excerpt, and a giveaway! She’ll have a review up when she can, too. https://diaryofaneccentric.wordpress.com/2020/01/30/guest-post-excerpt-giveaway-beauty-and-mr-darcy-by-sarah-courtney/

It’s almost time for “Beauty and Mr. Darcy!”

Beauty and Mr. Darcy has been available for preorder since November, but I’ve still been busy behind the scenes getting it ready for readers!

I have a trusted beta reader/critique partner who always sees it first. She’s also incredibly helpful with brainstorming, plotting, and plothole-finding early on. I often send her a very rough draft of a scene that I’m struggling with or have just finished to get an initial impression. She’s also gone through the story as a whole a time or two and given me invaluable suggestions.

Once I had a complete first draft, I went through and did a ton of editing myself. I will tell you, I absolutely love this story. I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve read it, and yet every time, I’ll start reading part of it and I’ll get sucked in and can’t stop reading. Given that I wrote the thing, I think that’s pretty unusual!

Something my beta reader mentioned made me realize that I needed to make a calendar for this story, so that I could keep track of events and not get too muddled. I thought it would be easy, but boy, was it a lot of work! It turns out that while a month might have enough time for all of the events I mentioned, the dates often just didn’t work out the way I’d set them up. This also allowed me to verify things like days of the week and even where there were enough Sundays in a given month to call the banns.

These specific dates won’t make it into the story, since I only label chapters with months, but they help make sure that everything is consistent nonetheless.

After I finished that level of editing, I sent it on to my professional editor. She corrects not just grammar mistakes and typos (seriously, I do know how to make plural nouns possessive, but you wouldn’t think so if you’d seen my earlier drafts!), but she’s also astoundingly good at noticing little tiny plot holes, especially things like character motivation. Some of her suggestions required writing entire new scenes!

I finished going through her suggested edits and making changes, then sent it back to her for another read through. Of course, since I’d added a couple of scenes here, a paragraph there, there were more typos and plot holes to be filled! I cannot tell you how pleased I was when I finally got everything corrected.

I remember somebody mention in a writer’s chat, “Better done than perfect,” and that’s very true. There comes a point when you have to say, “It’s as good as I can reasonably make it.” Sure, I could spend another five months on it and it might be better for it, but I’d rather write 2-3 books a year than one perfect book every few years.

I’m working with a formatter right now to get it ready for Amazon. I had a few changes I wanted to make to his original formatting, so I should get that back in a few days. I’m trying something new this time, which is to include several blurbs and excerpts of other stories in a preview section at the end of the ebook, but to keep that to a single page in the paperback version. The book is already huge–it’s about 135,000 words, which translates into well over 500 pages for the paperback! So I don’t want to add another 20-30 pages on top of that.

Once I get it back from the formatter, it’s off to my ARC team, and I can upload it to Amazon! They keep sending me emails to remind me to upload a manuscript, so I will admit to being a bit antsy and anxious to get it in place for release date.

January 31 is the release date, so two weeks from yesterday! I can’t wait, and I hope you love it as much as I do!

It's almost time for "Beauty and Mr. Darcy!"

Beauty and Mr. Darcy has been available for preorder since November, but I’ve still been busy behind the scenes getting it ready for readers!

I have a trusted beta reader/critique partner who always sees it first. She’s also incredibly helpful with brainstorming, plotting, and plothole-finding early on. I often send her a very rough draft of a scene that I’m struggling with or have just finished to get an initial impression. She’s also gone through the story as a whole a time or two and given me invaluable suggestions.

Once I had a complete first draft, I went through and did a ton of editing myself. I will tell you, I absolutely love this story. I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve read it, and yet every time, I’ll start reading part of it and I’ll get sucked in and can’t stop reading. Given that I wrote the thing, I think that’s pretty unusual!

Something my beta reader mentioned made me realize that I needed to make a calendar for this story, so that I could keep track of events and not get too muddled. I thought it would be easy, but boy, was it a lot of work! It turns out that while a month might have enough time for all of the events I mentioned, the dates often just didn’t work out the way I’d set them up. This also allowed me to verify things like days of the week and even where there were enough Sundays in a given month to call the banns.

These specific dates won’t make it into the story, since I only label chapters with months, but they help make sure that everything is consistent nonetheless.

After I finished that level of editing, I sent it on to my professional editor. She corrects not just grammar mistakes and typos (seriously, I do know how to make plural nouns possessive, but you wouldn’t think so if you’d seen my earlier drafts!), but she’s also astoundingly good at noticing little tiny plot holes, especially things like character motivation. Some of her suggestions required writing entire new scenes!

I finished going through her suggested edits and making changes, then sent it back to her for another read through. Of course, since I’d added a couple of scenes here, a paragraph there, there were more typos and plot holes to be filled! I cannot tell you how pleased I was when I finally got everything corrected.

I remember somebody mention in a writer’s chat, “Better done than perfect,” and that’s very true. There comes a point when you have to say, “It’s as good as I can reasonably make it.” Sure, I could spend another five months on it and it might be better for it, but I’d rather write 2-3 books a year than one perfect book every few years.

I’m working with a formatter right now to get it ready for Amazon. I had a few changes I wanted to make to his original formatting, so I should get that back in a few days. I’m trying something new this time, which is to include several blurbs and excerpts of other stories in a preview section at the end of the ebook, but to keep that to a single page in the paperback version. The book is already huge–it’s about 135,000 words, which translates into well over 500 pages for the paperback! So I don’t want to add another 20-30 pages on top of that.

Once I get it back from the formatter, it’s off to my ARC team, and I can upload it to Amazon! They keep sending me emails to remind me to upload a manuscript, so I will admit to being a bit antsy and anxious to get it in place for release date.

January 31 is the release date, so two weeks from yesterday! I can’t wait, and I hope you love it as much as I do!

K.M. Shea’s Timeless Fairy Tales series

I have been absolutely addicted to this series this week. If you aren’t familiar with it, it’s a series of fairy tale adaptations. The main books in the series are eleven books, each telling an adaptation of Beauty and the Beast, Cinderella, Puss in Boots, etc. The eleven books all take place in the same world, though, and the characters intersect. The stories increasingly overlap as time goes on, as well, because all of the magical attacks on the royal families are a symptom of something worse . . . a terrible dark magic overspreading the continent.

Each book is a complete story in and of itself, with lots of great humor, adventure, excitement, and romance. There are also some wonderful themes of love, sacrifice, and nobility that show up throughout. I’m particularly fond of Cinderella and the Colonel and the Twelve Dancing Princesses.

Interestingly, not everything is resolved by the end of the eleventh book, even though it’s the end of the series. That book itself, Snow White, is resolved, but the black magic arc is not finished. Instead, we have a jump into another series, Fairy Tale Enchantress.

I have to say, I wasn’t sure I wanted to read the new series at first. It’s about the Enchantress-in-Training who pops up throughout the fairy tale books to help out. But I ended up liking these books the best, and I’m DYING to get to the next one!

The Fairy Tale Enchantress series actually jumps us back in time first, to when Angelique is taken on as an Enchantress-in-Training by Evariste, a full Enchanter. We go back to her early forays into magic, and thus we are there when the scene is set for the later fairy tale books. Angelique is on hand when Rosalinda (Sleeping Beauty) is cursed, and she meets several of the other characters when they are children. She’s on hand at enough of the other significant moments of the stories that it starts to feel a little Forrest Gump-like . . . and yet, at the same time, it avoids the feeling of being contrived because of the fact that she has a *reason* to be in all of the places and at the times that she is.

The enchantress series does not take us through all of the fairy tale books. I think we get through about the first nine, but need to wait until her next book(s) to continue through the timeline of the last two books of the Timeless Fairy Tales series and beyond.

I think one of the things that particularly appealed to me about Angelique’s books was that we really see into the magic. So much of the magic was a mystery in the other series, the way magic is a mystery in the original fairy tales. How did the fairy godmother really alter Sleeping Beauty’s curse, why does true love’s kiss end curses, etc.? So much of that is explained in the Fairy Tale Enchantress books. Furthermore, we really see a lot of the “behind the scenes” magical battles that Angelique is fighting and that explain why she looks increasingly worn and exhausted when we see her in later fairy tale books.

I cannot recommend this series highly enough! They’re absolutely delightful. Entertaining for adults, but also appropriate for kids eight and up or so (there’s some fighting and a bit of romance, but nothing I wouldn’t let my independent readers read).

I can’t end this post without mentioning the prequel, The Snow Queen. This trilogy is AMAZING. I actually read these aloud to my husband and he loved them as well. There’s suffering, honor, sacrifice, war, devastation, action, humor, and love. I have read and reread these books so much that they’d be falling apart if I read them in paperbacks. Thankfully, my ebooks are still pristine.

K.M. Shea's Timeless Fairy Tales series

I have been absolutely addicted to this series this week. If you aren’t familiar with it, it’s a series of fairy tale adaptations. The main books in the series are eleven books, each telling an adaptation of Beauty and the Beast, Cinderella, Puss in Boots, etc. The eleven books all take place in the same world, though, and the characters intersect. The stories increasingly overlap as time goes on, as well, because all of the magical attacks on the royal families are a symptom of something worse . . . a terrible dark magic overspreading the continent.

Each book is a complete story in and of itself, with lots of great humor, adventure, excitement, and romance. There are also some wonderful themes of love, sacrifice, and nobility that show up throughout. I’m particularly fond of Cinderella and the Colonel and the Twelve Dancing Princesses.

Interestingly, not everything is resolved by the end of the eleventh book, even though it’s the end of the series. That book itself, Snow White, is resolved, but the black magic arc is not finished. Instead, we have a jump into another series, Fairy Tale Enchantress.

I have to say, I wasn’t sure I wanted to read the new series at first. It’s about the Enchantress-in-Training who pops up throughout the fairy tale books to help out. But I ended up liking these books the best, and I’m DYING to get to the next one!

The Fairy Tale Enchantress series actually jumps us back in time first, to when Angelique is taken on as an Enchantress-in-Training by Evariste, a full Enchanter. We go back to her early forays into magic, and thus we are there when the scene is set for the later fairy tale books. Angelique is on hand when Rosalinda (Sleeping Beauty) is cursed, and she meets several of the other characters when they are children. She’s on hand at enough of the other significant moments of the stories that it starts to feel a little Forrest Gump-like . . . and yet, at the same time, it avoids the feeling of being contrived because of the fact that she has a *reason* to be in all of the places and at the times that she is.

The enchantress series does not take us through all of the fairy tale books. I think we get through about the first nine, but need to wait until her next book(s) to continue through the timeline of the last two books of the Timeless Fairy Tales series and beyond.

I think one of the things that particularly appealed to me about Angelique’s books was that we really see into the magic. So much of the magic was a mystery in the other series, the way magic is a mystery in the original fairy tales. How did the fairy godmother really alter Sleeping Beauty’s curse, why does true love’s kiss end curses, etc.? So much of that is explained in the Fairy Tale Enchantress books. Furthermore, we really see a lot of the “behind the scenes” magical battles that Angelique is fighting and that explain why she looks increasingly worn and exhausted when we see her in later fairy tale books.

I cannot recommend this series highly enough! They’re absolutely delightful. Entertaining for adults, but also appropriate for kids eight and up or so (there’s some fighting and a bit of romance, but nothing I wouldn’t let my independent readers read).

I can’t end this post without mentioning the prequel, The Snow Queen. This trilogy is AMAZING. I actually read these aloud to my husband and he loved them as well. There’s suffering, honor, sacrifice, war, devastation, action, humor, and love. I have read and reread these books so much that they’d be falling apart if I read them in paperbacks. Thankfully, my ebooks are still pristine.

“The Best Christmas Ever,” a Christmas story for A Good Name

It was the Monday before Christmas, and George Wickham was troubled.

It was dusk in the park where he and Lizzy Bennet met almost every day. Lizzy had long since gone home, and the other kids in the park had disappeared, too. Through the bare trees he could see Christmas lights here and there in the distance. He had never stayed this late before, but it wasn’t like it mattered. His mom never noticed whether he was home or not, nor did her boyfriend, Mark. He could probably fall into a manhole and she wouldn’t notice for a few months. No, they wouldn’t care, and it was easier to think here on their favorite park bench.

Lizzy was going to buy him a Christmas present. She had last year—a bag of chocolates and a warm knit hat—and he knew she was going to again this year. That was who she was.

She had bought him a Christmas present, and of course he hadn’t had anything to give her. Not a single thing. It was just one more reminder of being poor and he hated it. Lizzy was his best friend, it was Christmas, and he didn’t even have the money to buy her a good present.

She hadn’t spent that much on the chocolates or hat, he knew. She didn’t get a lot of money for her allowance and she had four sisters, parents, and probably friends and other relatives to buy for. Still, even something like that cost money, and George really didn’t have any.

He wished it had snowed, as he might have been able to shovel some yards to earn money. He didn’t have a shovel, but unlike lawnmowers for cutting grass, people didn’t seem to mind loaning shovels. He had thought to try to earn some money mowing lawns last summer, but nobody seemed willing to let an eleven-year-old with no experience use their lawnmower. And the bit of money he’d earned last winter from shoveling had long since gone to supplement the grocery budget.

George sighed. What could he get Lizzy without money? The thought was the thing, and all that, but no nine-year-old really wanted a drawing on notebook paper or a cootie catcher or paper football for a Christmas present. He was way too old to make her some stupid popsicle stick craft in Sunday school.

The best thing would be a book, but he definitely did not have the money for that.

It was growing darker, and George got up from the bench and started his walk home, scuffing his feet as he thought.

Maybe he could make her something that was actually useful. She loved to play out stories from books. A bow, like Attean’s from The Sign of the Beaver? Maybe. A bow was just a tree branch with a string tied to it, right? He could probably find string somewhere. Arrows would be harder to make.

The Sign of the Beaver was the book that had started their fight last spring, though. He had wanted to play that book, and Elizabeth had wanted to play another; he didn’t remember which anymore. When they had fought over it and she had stalked off, he had thought their friendship was over. One fight hadn’t killed their friendship, but still, he didn’t think he wanted to remind her of that book. He’d have to come up with a better story to make something from.

There weren’t any Christmas lights in his apartment complex. It wasn’t that type of neighborhood. But as he passed the dumpster, there was enough illumination from the street light for him to see the ripped garbage bags that hadn’t quite made it into the dumpster and had been the targets of raccoons or dogs.

Suddenly, he stopped. Something was almost sparkling in the trash. He bent to see.

It was a tiny broken Christmas ornament—a little porcelain ballerina fairy with one leg and an arm broken off. The iridescent wings were so pretty that it seemed a shame to throw her away.

Could he fix her, for Lizzy’s present? He wasn’t sure that she had any particular interest in ballet, despite having read Ballet Shoes last year, but it was pretty anyway.

He dug through the bag he thought the fairy had come from, but there was no sign of the leg or arm. He didn’t have any superglue, anyway, and they might have been shattered instead of just broken off.

George sighed and was about to toss the fairy back into the garbage when he noticed her wings again. He tugged on them just a bit. Sure enough, they were just glued on. With a good yank—there!—now they were in his hand.

Sudden inspiration had him longing to dig through the garbage now, but he knew he would have better luck in the daytime. How was he supposed to sleep tonight with his plan in his mind? He could not wait to get back in daylight to see what else he might find.

One thing he had not considered was how short the days were. He had planned to leave early for school in the morning so that he could go through the trash first, but it was still dark when he awoke, and he remembered that it was usually still dark when he left for school. He groaned. There was nothing for it, then, but to go after school. He usually got to the park before Lizzy, but he might be a few minutes later today. He only hoped that she would not give up and go home when he wasn’t there at the usual time.

When school was out, he hurried to the dumpster as quick as he could. Fortunately, there were not many people around behind the complex at that time of day, so nobody was there to see him dig through the trash.

The ballerina was not the only Christmas ornament he found. There were no other fairies, nor was there conveniently any other little doll of the right size to which he could attach the wings. He saved a few cracked Christmas bulbs, though, although he had to be careful not to cut himself. He found a clean cardboard box to carry things in. It had been folded up, and he could not make the bottom stay closed without tape, but if he wedged it into his backpack just right, the bottom stayed closed.

One of the garbage bags even had a little string of lights. They were almost certainly broken, but that didn’t matter. They still looked like lights even though they were off, and it was not as if he planned to have anywhere to plug them in.

He collected aluminum foil, scraps of wrapping paper that weren’t completely dirty, and anything else that he could find that was bright and shiny or made of wood or metal. He waffled over a tin can, but could not determine a good way to use it and so tossed it into the recycling bin.

His best find was an entire length of twine from a Christmas tree. Excellent! It was just the thing.

He hurried upstairs to grab a pair of scissors from Mark’s apartment, then went to the park and hoped that Lizzy would not notice his distraction.

George spent every spare minute on Lizzy’s present that week. As soon as she left the park, he used any remaining daylight to sneak into the wooded area behind the playground for his project. The weekend before Christmas was especially useful, as Lizzy rarely appeared before lunch on those days, so he had the morning to work. He hit every dumpster between his apartment, school, and the park and collected any useful and reasonably clean piece of trash he could find.

The trickiest part was to decide the best day to present Lizzy with her gift. Surely she would not come to the park on Christmas Day, not with four sisters at home and presents to open. He had not thought to ask before the weekend whether she would be there on Monday, as it was Christmas Eve, but that afternoon she was there as usual.

“I have a present for you!” she said gleefully. “Open it!”

He grinned at the wrapping paper. It was silvery with little snowflakes on it . . . perfect for him to use for his present for her! He unwrapped it carefully to preserve the paper, despite her cries of, “Oh, come on, just tear it!”

Inside was a pack of little army men and a box of Nerds.

“Army men!” he exclaimed.

Lizzy shrugged shyly. “You love to play stuff like that, and I thought . . . with the woods and all . . .”

She couldn’t know how perfect it was. “I love them. Thank you, Lizzy. And Nerds!” He didn’t get candy very often, occasionally at school parties, so it was always a special treat. They lasted a long time, too, since you could eat just a nibble at a time.

“I can’t stay long today. Gotta get home to make cookies with Jane.”

He nodded. “I have a present for you, but . . . maybe we should wait until after Christmas, when there’s more time.”

“Okay.” She bit her lip, then stepped forward quickly and hugged him. “Merry Christmas, George!”

He awkwardly hugged her back. “Merry Christmas, Lizzy!”

Even though he knew she wouldn’t be at the park on Christmas, and it was rather cold on the bench alone, George went to the park anyway. Mark and his mother were at a “party,” or so they said. The apartment wasn’t all that warm, as Mark said they didn’t have enough money for any more heat until he got paid, but it was still warmer than outside because of their neighbors’ heat. Still, the park felt like Lizzy, so it was less lonely than being home.

He sat on the bench for a while reading The Lives of Christopher Chant until a shadow fell on his library book. He looked up and was surprised to see a tear-stained Lizzy.

“Lizzy!” He jumped to his feet. “What’s wrong?”

She shrugged and dropped to the bench next to where he’d been sitting. “Don’t wanna talk about it.” He winced, knowing that wasn’t good. Maybe her mom had just gotten her clothes again. She hated clothes, especially the fancy frilly dresses and pinchy shoes that her mother loved to buy her.

Lizzy leaned against him to look down at his book. “What are you reading?”

He showed her, and she gave him a ghost of a smile. “I love those. My favorite of hers is Howl’s Moving Castle, though.”

George nodded. “I like that one, too.” He had been so busy hiding his present for Lizzy this past week that he hadn’t had the chance to show her what books he’d gotten from the library. That gave him an idea.

“Wanna see your present?”

Her eyes lit up. “You have one for me? Really? Yes!”

She watched his backpack as he put it on, but gave him a puzzled glance when he made no effort to take a present out of it. Instead, he took her hand and led her into ‘their’ spot in the woods, near the little trickle of creek, the place where they liked to play Terabithia.

When they neared the right spot but before she could see anything, he spoke in a whisper.

“Shh,” he said. “Look.”

“Where?” He grinned when her line perfectly matched May Belle’s from the book Bridge to Terabithia, one of Lizzy’s favorites.

“Can’t you see them?” he whispered. “All the Terabithians standing on tiptoe to see you.”

Lizzy was grinning now. She knew what book he was playing and went along with it. “Me?”

“Shh, yes. There’s a rumor going around that the beautiful girl arriving today might be the queen they’ve been waiting for.”

George pulled her another step and crouched down, pulling her down with him.

Lizzy gasped and put her hands to her cheeks.

George had spent the last week making her a tiny fairy village among the old leaves and undergrowth of the forest. One small little pine sapling had become a Christmas tree, decorated with little colorful bits and pieces of packaging and even a few broken ornaments that he was able to attach to it.

He’d built little fairy houses out of sticks, bark, and anything wood that he’d been able to find in the trash. The fairies had all decorated their houses for Christmas just like the tree. He had even happened upon a tangle of tinsel and painstakingly untangled it to drape over the roofs.

The fairies had been the trickiest part. He had looked up books about how to make dolls out of corn husks and yarn. He didn’t have either of those things, but there were some places that still had very long grass along the fence line, and he had managed to fashion lots of little grass fairies with twine holding them together. His favorite had the wings from the fairy ballerina he had found, the others had wings of aluminum foil or even plastic wrap. Their clothes were made of wrapping paper, so they were colorful and Christmassy.

“It’s beautiful, George,” Lizzy breathed.

“It won’t survive out here all that long,” he felt he had to point out. “One good rain . . . I mean, we can try to protect it for a while, maybe, but it won’t last all that long.”

“The best things never do.” She had not taken her eyes off it since she had crouched down.

“There’s one more thing. You might hate this part.” George motioned for her to follow him a few feet over. There, just across the creek, were the army men she had given him yesterday. He had set them up as if they were planning an attack on the fairies. Some were standing in formation, ready to invade, others were getting into sniper position or setting up a bridge to ford the creek.

“Oh!” She laughed aloud. “I have to get the fairies ready for battle! Thank you for the warning, fairy scout!” With that, she leapt back over to the fairies and sounded the alarm. George stayed with his army men and worked on building a bridge across the creek to begin the invasion.

They played fairies vs. army men for an hour before cold drove them out of the woods and into the sunshine.

“Thanks for the best Christmas ever, George.” Lizzy squeezed his arm.

“It was my best Christmas ever, too.”

She waved as she jumped over the wood border between the playground and the grass and headed towards the path that would take her home.

George zipped his coat back up, pulled his hat from the pocket, and put it back on his head as he retook his seat on the bench. He had been warm enough in the woods, but it was chilly once you were sitting still. There was still a bit of light left before dusk, and he had no intention of going home before he had to. There was nothing there for him after all, nothing except reading alone and waiting for the next time he could see Lizzy.

***

The End.

I’d love to hear what you think in the comments! Criticism is fine as well!

If you want to read more about George and Lizzy, you can find their complete story in A Good Name on Amazon: https://smile.amazon.com//dp/B0815YLDVT/
George Wickham is a significant and sympathetic character, but don’t worry, it has a happy Darcy and Elizabeth happily ever after in the end!

"The Best Christmas Ever," a Christmas story for A Good Name

It was the Monday before Christmas, and George Wickham was troubled.

It was dusk in the park where he and Lizzy Bennet met almost every day. Lizzy had long since gone home, and the other kids in the park had disappeared, too. Through the bare trees he could see Christmas lights here and there in the distance. He had never stayed this late before, but it wasn’t like it mattered. His mom never noticed whether he was home or not, nor did her boyfriend, Mark. He could probably fall into a manhole and she wouldn’t notice for a few months. No, they wouldn’t care, and it was easier to think here on their favorite park bench.

Lizzy was going to buy him a Christmas present. She had last year—a bag of chocolates and a warm knit hat—and he knew she was going to again this year. That was who she was.

She had bought him a Christmas present, and of course he hadn’t had anything to give her. Not a single thing. It was just one more reminder of being poor and he hated it. Lizzy was his best friend, it was Christmas, and he didn’t even have the money to buy her a good present.

She hadn’t spent that much on the chocolates or hat, he knew. She didn’t get a lot of money for her allowance and she had four sisters, parents, and probably friends and other relatives to buy for. Still, even something like that cost money, and George really didn’t have any.

He wished it had snowed, as he might have been able to shovel some yards to earn money. He didn’t have a shovel, but unlike lawnmowers for cutting grass, people didn’t seem to mind loaning shovels. He had thought to try to earn some money mowing lawns last summer, but nobody seemed willing to let an eleven-year-old with no experience use their lawnmower. And the bit of money he’d earned last winter from shoveling had long since gone to supplement the grocery budget.

George sighed. What could he get Lizzy without money? The thought was the thing, and all that, but no nine-year-old really wanted a drawing on notebook paper or a cootie catcher or paper football for a Christmas present. He was way too old to make her some stupid popsicle stick craft in Sunday school.

The best thing would be a book, but he definitely did not have the money for that.

It was growing darker, and George got up from the bench and started his walk home, scuffing his feet as he thought.

Maybe he could make her something that was actually useful. She loved to play out stories from books. A bow, like Attean’s from The Sign of the Beaver? Maybe. A bow was just a tree branch with a string tied to it, right? He could probably find string somewhere. Arrows would be harder to make.

The Sign of the Beaver was the book that had started their fight last spring, though. He had wanted to play that book, and Elizabeth had wanted to play another; he didn’t remember which anymore. When they had fought over it and she had stalked off, he had thought their friendship was over. One fight hadn’t killed their friendship, but still, he didn’t think he wanted to remind her of that book. He’d have to come up with a better story to make something from.

There weren’t any Christmas lights in his apartment complex. It wasn’t that type of neighborhood. But as he passed the dumpster, there was enough illumination from the street light for him to see the ripped garbage bags that hadn’t quite made it into the dumpster and had been the targets of raccoons or dogs.

Suddenly, he stopped. Something was almost sparkling in the trash. He bent to see.

It was a tiny broken Christmas ornament—a little porcelain ballerina fairy with one leg and an arm broken off. The iridescent wings were so pretty that it seemed a shame to throw her away.

Could he fix her, for Lizzy’s present? He wasn’t sure that she had any particular interest in ballet, despite having read Ballet Shoes last year, but it was pretty anyway.

He dug through the bag he thought the fairy had come from, but there was no sign of the leg or arm. He didn’t have any superglue, anyway, and they might have been shattered instead of just broken off.

George sighed and was about to toss the fairy back into the garbage when he noticed her wings again. He tugged on them just a bit. Sure enough, they were just glued on. With a good yank—there!—now they were in his hand.

Sudden inspiration had him longing to dig through the garbage now, but he knew he would have better luck in the daytime. How was he supposed to sleep tonight with his plan in his mind? He could not wait to get back in daylight to see what else he might find.

One thing he had not considered was how short the days were. He had planned to leave early for school in the morning so that he could go through the trash first, but it was still dark when he awoke, and he remembered that it was usually still dark when he left for school. He groaned. There was nothing for it, then, but to go after school. He usually got to the park before Lizzy, but he might be a few minutes later today. He only hoped that she would not give up and go home when he wasn’t there at the usual time.

When school was out, he hurried to the dumpster as quick as he could. Fortunately, there were not many people around behind the complex at that time of day, so nobody was there to see him dig through the trash.

The ballerina was not the only Christmas ornament he found. There were no other fairies, nor was there conveniently any other little doll of the right size to which he could attach the wings. He saved a few cracked Christmas bulbs, though, although he had to be careful not to cut himself. He found a clean cardboard box to carry things in. It had been folded up, and he could not make the bottom stay closed without tape, but if he wedged it into his backpack just right, the bottom stayed closed.

One of the garbage bags even had a little string of lights. They were almost certainly broken, but that didn’t matter. They still looked like lights even though they were off, and it was not as if he planned to have anywhere to plug them in.

He collected aluminum foil, scraps of wrapping paper that weren’t completely dirty, and anything else that he could find that was bright and shiny or made of wood or metal. He waffled over a tin can, but could not determine a good way to use it and so tossed it into the recycling bin.

His best find was an entire length of twine from a Christmas tree. Excellent! It was just the thing.

He hurried upstairs to grab a pair of scissors from Mark’s apartment, then went to the park and hoped that Lizzy would not notice his distraction.

George spent every spare minute on Lizzy’s present that week. As soon as she left the park, he used any remaining daylight to sneak into the wooded area behind the playground for his project. The weekend before Christmas was especially useful, as Lizzy rarely appeared before lunch on those days, so he had the morning to work. He hit every dumpster between his apartment, school, and the park and collected any useful and reasonably clean piece of trash he could find.

The trickiest part was to decide the best day to present Lizzy with her gift. Surely she would not come to the park on Christmas Day, not with four sisters at home and presents to open. He had not thought to ask before the weekend whether she would be there on Monday, as it was Christmas Eve, but that afternoon she was there as usual.

“I have a present for you!” she said gleefully. “Open it!”

He grinned at the wrapping paper. It was silvery with little snowflakes on it . . . perfect for him to use for his present for her! He unwrapped it carefully to preserve the paper, despite her cries of, “Oh, come on, just tear it!”

Inside was a pack of little army men and a box of Nerds.

“Army men!” he exclaimed.

Lizzy shrugged shyly. “You love to play stuff like that, and I thought . . . with the woods and all . . .”

She couldn’t know how perfect it was. “I love them. Thank you, Lizzy. And Nerds!” He didn’t get candy very often, occasionally at school parties, so it was always a special treat. They lasted a long time, too, since you could eat just a nibble at a time.

“I can’t stay long today. Gotta get home to make cookies with Jane.”

He nodded. “I have a present for you, but . . . maybe we should wait until after Christmas, when there’s more time.”

“Okay.” She bit her lip, then stepped forward quickly and hugged him. “Merry Christmas, George!”

He awkwardly hugged her back. “Merry Christmas, Lizzy!”

Even though he knew she wouldn’t be at the park on Christmas, and it was rather cold on the bench alone, George went to the park anyway. Mark and his mother were at a “party,” or so they said. The apartment wasn’t all that warm, as Mark said they didn’t have enough money for any more heat until he got paid, but it was still warmer than outside because of their neighbors’ heat. Still, the park felt like Lizzy, so it was less lonely than being home.

He sat on the bench for a while reading The Lives of Christopher Chant until a shadow fell on his library book. He looked up and was surprised to see a tear-stained Lizzy.

“Lizzy!” He jumped to his feet. “What’s wrong?”

She shrugged and dropped to the bench next to where he’d been sitting. “Don’t wanna talk about it.” He winced, knowing that wasn’t good. Maybe her mom had just gotten her clothes again. She hated clothes, especially the fancy frilly dresses and pinchy shoes that her mother loved to buy her.

Lizzy leaned against him to look down at his book. “What are you reading?”

He showed her, and she gave him a ghost of a smile. “I love those. My favorite of hers is Howl’s Moving Castle, though.”

George nodded. “I like that one, too.” He had been so busy hiding his present for Lizzy this past week that he hadn’t had the chance to show her what books he’d gotten from the library. That gave him an idea.

“Wanna see your present?”

Her eyes lit up. “You have one for me? Really? Yes!”

She watched his backpack as he put it on, but gave him a puzzled glance when he made no effort to take a present out of it. Instead, he took her hand and led her into ‘their’ spot in the woods, near the little trickle of creek, the place where they liked to play Terabithia.

When they neared the right spot but before she could see anything, he spoke in a whisper.

“Shh,” he said. “Look.”

“Where?” He grinned when her line perfectly matched May Belle’s from the book Bridge to Terabithia, one of Lizzy’s favorites.

“Can’t you see them?” he whispered. “All the Terabithians standing on tiptoe to see you.”

Lizzy was grinning now. She knew what book he was playing and went along with it. “Me?”

“Shh, yes. There’s a rumor going around that the beautiful girl arriving today might be the queen they’ve been waiting for.”

George pulled her another step and crouched down, pulling her down with him.

Lizzy gasped and put her hands to her cheeks.

George had spent the last week making her a tiny fairy village among the old leaves and undergrowth of the forest. One small little pine sapling had become a Christmas tree, decorated with little colorful bits and pieces of packaging and even a few broken ornaments that he was able to attach to it.

He’d built little fairy houses out of sticks, bark, and anything wood that he’d been able to find in the trash. The fairies had all decorated their houses for Christmas just like the tree. He had even happened upon a tangle of tinsel and painstakingly untangled it to drape over the roofs.

The fairies had been the trickiest part. He had looked up books about how to make dolls out of corn husks and yarn. He didn’t have either of those things, but there were some places that still had very long grass along the fence line, and he had managed to fashion lots of little grass fairies with twine holding them together. His favorite had the wings from the fairy ballerina he had found, the others had wings of aluminum foil or even plastic wrap. Their clothes were made of wrapping paper, so they were colorful and Christmassy.

“It’s beautiful, George,” Lizzy breathed.

“It won’t survive out here all that long,” he felt he had to point out. “One good rain . . . I mean, we can try to protect it for a while, maybe, but it won’t last all that long.”

“The best things never do.” She had not taken her eyes off it since she had crouched down.

“There’s one more thing. You might hate this part.” George motioned for her to follow him a few feet over. There, just across the creek, were the army men she had given him yesterday. He had set them up as if they were planning an attack on the fairies. Some were standing in formation, ready to invade, others were getting into sniper position or setting up a bridge to ford the creek.

“Oh!” She laughed aloud. “I have to get the fairies ready for battle! Thank you for the warning, fairy scout!” With that, she leapt back over to the fairies and sounded the alarm. George stayed with his army men and worked on building a bridge across the creek to begin the invasion.

They played fairies vs. army men for an hour before cold drove them out of the woods and into the sunshine.

“Thanks for the best Christmas ever, George.” Lizzy squeezed his arm.

“It was my best Christmas ever, too.”

She waved as she jumped over the wood border between the playground and the grass and headed towards the path that would take her home.

George zipped his coat back up, pulled his hat from the pocket, and put it back on his head as he retook his seat on the bench. He had been warm enough in the woods, but it was chilly once you were sitting still. There was still a bit of light left before dusk, and he had no intention of going home before he had to. There was nothing there for him after all, nothing except reading alone and waiting for the next time he could see Lizzy.

***

The End.

I’d love to hear what you think in the comments! Criticism is fine as well!

If you want to read more about George and Lizzy, you can find their complete story in A Good Name on Amazon: https://smile.amazon.com//dp/B0815YLDVT/
George Wickham is a significant and sympathetic character, but don’t worry, it has a happy Darcy and Elizabeth happily ever after in the end!

The Writing Process

Right now, I have three different books at three different stages of the writing process. A Good Name has been published, and it’s fun to check regularly to see if I have any new reviews or how much it’s earning, and how close I am to making back my original investment (in editing, cover art, etc.).

I just got the edits back from my editor on Beauty and Mr. Darcy last night. I’ve gone through about half of them this evening, but I’ll have more to go through tomorrow, and once I’ve gone through all of the edits, there will be some that I need to return to as being more complicated than a misplaced comma. So far I’m confident that I’ll have the book done well in advance of the publication date of January 31. Preorders are going well, which is exciting! I’ve been told that Regencies sell much better than moderns, so I’m looking forward to seeing how it does.

Finally, Plots, Ploys, and the Art of Matchmaking has to be set temporarily aside while I work on the edits for Beauty and Mr. Darcy, but I’ve tentatively started looking at covers for it. I have an image in mind and have been thinking about seeing what my cover artist can do with it. I spend a lot of time thinking about and mulling over cover art, because it’s one of the first things you see when you see the book listing. If the cover doesn’t look professional and doesn’t catch your eye, then you might move on without even looking at the blurb! I’ve gone back and forth dozens of times on this book, trying to decide just what colors/style/look I want. I am currently leaning towards using an old oil painting that has the feel of a particular scene in the book and also is just very pretty.

Check back in a few weeks for the cover reveal! I’m also scheduled to have A Good Name reviewed on the blog “Diary of an Eccentric” in January. Since AGN is my first book, I’ve never had any blog reviews before, so I’m ridiculously excited about this!