Happy release day to Jayne Bamber! She’s stopping by today to celebrate her new novel, NorthFanger, a Gothic mash-up of Pride and Prejudice and Northanger Abbey, with an excerpt and a giveaway. Please give her a warm welcome!
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Hello, dear readers! It’s great to be back at Diary of an Eccentric! I am celebrating the release date of my seventh JAFF novel, NorthFanger. As you can tell from the title, this Pride & Prejudice/Northanger Abbey mash-up is vampy, campy, and full of gothic twists and turns!
The story opens as Elizabeth Bennet travels to Kent to visit Charlotte Collins – and she is accompanied by her cousin, Catherine Morland, who has every expectation of spooky shenanigans and secret romance. Elizabeth has no such hopes, and yet she is almost immediately entrenched in that very scenario – and not at liberty to share the sordid details with her excitable, imaginative younger cousin. Even practical, pragmatic Charlotte Collins is soon drawn into the drama that renders Elizabeth Bennet and her companions essential to the undead Darcy debacle!
The story leads an oddly assembled band of misfits to Bath, in search of Elizabeth’s vampire-expert uncle – but they are not the only ones separately trying to track down wily old Silas Bennet. In Bath they encounter the Tilneys, the Thorpes, and an array of familiar faces and vicious villains bent on wreaking bloody havoc!
The except I am sharing today is from the first chapter of NorthFanger and, like all things (as Mr. Collins would insist) it revolves around Lady Catherine de Bourgh….
Much to Catherine’s chagrin, the coveted invitation to dine at Rosings Park came a few days later, when she was abed with her monthly pains. Their cousin Mr. Collins was distressed that Catherine would brave her Ladyship’s displeasure by remaining at the parsonage, but this was nothing to the disappointment that Catherine expressed privately to Elizabeth.
“I hope Charlotte will give me a faithful account of the evening, if you do not, Lizzy,” she sighed, when Elizabeth came to check on her. “I long to see how you get on with the gentlemen. You look so beautiful tonight, I am sure they shall both end the evening violently in love with you!” Catherine threw herself back against the pillows to emphasize her conjecture.
Elizabeth blushed. She had dressed with great care, though it was from a sense of defiance toward the mistress of Rosings, rather than any desire to arouse admiration from either of the gentlemen she would encounter there. “Her Ladyship did not seem much impressed with me in church yesterday,” Elizabeth said archly. “And I could not let our cousin be disgraced by having such a relation!”
Catherine giggled. “She was severe! Do you suppose she is aware that you once refused Mr. Collins?”
“Hush,” Elizabeth laughed, “I do not wish Charlotte to overhear you say such things. But yes, I had thought it possible. On the other hand, perhaps Lady Catherine is simply used to thinking herself quite above her company. A family trait, I think.”
Catherine screwed up her face for a moment, then gave a bashful smirk. “Perhaps she has noticed that her nephews admire you!”
“Pah!” Elizabeth swatted playfully at her. “I will bid you goodnight then; clearly your mind is already entrenched in some lurid novel.”
Still grinning, Catherine picked up the book on her nightstand and opened it, giving Elizabeth a suggestive look before she raised the book up so that the cover blocked her face from view.
“Though they had only met twice, the dashing colonel declared his insurmountable passion for Elizabeth,” Catherine said with feeling, her finger trailing across the page for dramatic effect. She gasped, and continued her charade. “And then the brooding Mr. Darcy took her in his arms, proclaiming his own ardent admiration. There was thunder, lightning, and a terrible rain – Lady Catherine burst in and commanded Elizabeth be taken to the dungeons! The colonel charged at her, saber drawn….”
Though Elizabeth had indulged her friend with a wry smile, they were interrupted by Mr. Collins calling out in the corridor – her Ladyship, a paragon of punctuality, could not be kept waiting. Elizabeth gave a playful roll of her eyes as she took her leave. “Good night, Catherine.”
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Dinner at Rosings Park was dull indeed when Elizabeth compared it in her mind to the flagrant images her cousin had conjured up. Catherine would have preferred something more horrific than their hostess’ self-important conversation over the meal, though the girl was not wrong in supposing the dowager to be more villainous than Elizabeth had first thought.
Lady Catherine de Bourgh was an imposing woman, full of self-importance. When she was not receiving Mr. Collins’ endless compliments with haughty gratification, she questioned Elizabeth at length about her family, her connections, and her accomplishments. She extended a great deal of imperious advice, Mr. Collins praised her wisdom and condescension, the colonel japed as if naught was amiss, and Mr. Darcy silently glared at them all.
Lady Catherine’s daughter, Anne de Bourgh, was silent and dull throughout the meal, and remained much the same in the drawing room afterward. Her companion, Mrs. Jenkinson, spoke only to her charge and her employer; Miss de Bourgh spoke to nobody at all, and Mr. Darcy completely ignored her – what a happy couple Elizabeth imagined they would make!
Elizabeth spent much of the evening missing her younger cousin, and indulged more than once in private laughter at what Catherine would say about what was passing. Charlotte, at least, was doing her best to keep the conversation civil. At length she steered her Ladyship’s attention away from Elizabeth’s shocking quantity of sisters, only for Lady Catherine to insist Elizabeth open the pianoforte.
Colonel Fitzwilliam instantly offered to turn the pages for her, and followed Elizabeth across the room as she took her place at the instrument. Lady Catherine listened to half a song before her attention waned, and she began to speak to Mr. Darcy, but ere long he moved away as well, leaving her to Charlotte and Mr. Collins.
Elizabeth became aware of the sound of rain outside, and the pattering at the window panes was more distracting than the colonel’s idle chatter. When Mr. Darcy joined them, Elizabeth could scarcely keep her composure as she recalled Catherine’s fanciful musings. “Do you mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear me?” She looked up at him, intending to tease him further, when she was struck by the odd look in his eyes.
There was a flash of lightning outside, and Mr. Darcy’s face was suddenly lit more brightly than the dim sconces in the drawing room allowed. Elizabeth’s fingers stumbled over the keys, and she ceased playing entirely as she suddenly perceived the powerful melancholy Catherine had described. The sorrow in his countenance was tinged with something else, something deeply troubling and frighteningly attractive; Elizabeth gave a little gasp, and looked away.
“I say, Darcy, you do look dreadfully alarming,” Colonel Fitzwlliam said with a deep guffaw. “Whatever are you about, giving Miss Bennet such a fright?”
Elizabeth braved another glance up at Mr. Darcy, and he returned her gaze with no little intensity. His eyes locked on hers, and Elizabeth felt a strange heat in her chest as they drank in the sight of one another. For a moment she forgot there was anyone else in the room; Mr. Darcy was smiling at her in earnest, and it was a magnificent, shattering thing.
“I have had the pleasure of Miss Bennet’s acquaintance long enough to know it is quite impossible to frighten her,” Mr. Darcy said, his eyes twinkling with something stronger than mirth – Catherine might have called it longing.
Elizabeth could not take her eyes off him, nor could she make any sensible reply. She laughed nervously, rallying herself to shake off the heady thoughts her cousin had planted in her head. Though Elizabeth had no wish to betray the fact, she was frightened – she had begun to think that Mr. Darcy might admire her after all.
***
Darcy stared down at Elizabeth, his heart racing in his chest. His attraction to her in Meryton had been a trifling thing – he had thought it under good regulation, even at the Netherfield ball. The crisis of his sister’s flight from London had pushed Elizabeth from his mind, though not entirely, and not for long. He had returned to Meryton for Bingley’s wedding, pressed by his cousin to keep up appearances while they searched for Georgiana, and his feelings for Elizabeth had overpowered him once more, the moment he set eyes on her.
A great tumult of emotions stirred in Darcy’s chest as his gaze swept over her. Seeing her again so soon was torture for him; even if he could overcome his scruples about his duty to his family and the inferiority of her connections, he could not subject Elizabeth to the threat of scandal and the desolation caused by Georgiana’s disappearance. Yet it was this very despondency that made him long to take her in his arms. He smiled down at Elizabeth and for a moment everything ebbed away, save for the sheer joy of being in her presence.
There was another flash of lightning, and one half of Elizabeth’s upturned face was lit from the side as the window panes cast a lurid glow. Her lips parted and her eyes were wide with surprise, and something else – comprehension. It was as if she had pierced his heart and seen it laid bare before her.
He had scarcely been aware of what he said to her, and when she finally replied, her voice was obscured by a peal of thunder that sent a hush over the assembled company. A moment later Darcy was startled out of his amorous reverie when the window blew open with a loud clatter.
Mr. Collins let out a high pitched shriek as cold rain blew in and the wall sconces flickered, and then Lady Catherine began to shout at him to close the window. The parson hastened to do as he was bid, but froze as a shadow appeared there – the silhouette of a woman. She sprang up into the window frame, illuminated by another flash of lightning. Darcy’s breath caught in his throat; he could just make out the features of his sister.
Before he could speak, Lady Catherine stood and went toward the window, demanding Georgiana come in and explain her wild appearance. She leapt into the room at an incredible speed; Lady Catherine and Mrs. Collins screamed, and Anne fainted. Richard was on his feet at once, while Darcy took a protective step toward Elizabeth, who slowly raised one hand to rest her fingers on the long silver chain that was wrapped several times around her delicate ivory neck. Her other hand clasped onto his as he moved nearer, and Darcy could see the goose flesh on her arm.
He looked back to his sister, unable to speak at such a staggering moment. Georgiana was clad only in a nightdress, the tattered garment and her loose blonde hair billowed in the rainy wind that blew in through the open window. She was eerily still; there was an overpowering sense of otherness about her, and then Darcy realized – she had fangs.

Thanks for joining me on this first stop of the NorthFanger blog tour! I will be at My Jane Austen Book Club on Monday with an except that picks up where this one leaves off, and there will be subsequent blurbs along the blog tour featuring more of what’s in store for Lizzy & Darcy, baby-vamp Georgiana, and the supernaturally starved Catherine Morland.

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Thanks, Jayne, for being my guest today, and congratulations on your new release!