Advent Calendar Day 5: Mr. Darcy’s Enchanting Kisses

My new book Mr. Darcy’s Enchantment came out last week, and what a wild ride it’s been! The reader reactions and enthusiasm have stunned me. It’s every writer’s dream to write a book that totally wows its readers, and this is as close as I’ve ever come. Here are a couple of reader reactions :

“Oh my, I finished it and have just stuck a review up on .co.uk. I didn’t know how to get across how fab the book is without giving any spoilers!! It was a brilliant story and I feel a bit bereft that it’s over (sequel?? Nudge nudge). And it definitely did not feel too long.”

“I finished it last night. At half midnight! Not good for my sleep patterns 😆 I’m not normally a fan of fantasy but I *loved* this book so so much. Wish it hadn’t had to end!”

You can see why I’ve been thrilled!  Here’s the blurb:

In a Regency England where magic and faeries are real…

Fitzwilliam Darcy is a powerful magician who controls fire, water, and wind. What he cannot control is his growing feelings for Miss Elizabeth Bennet. But Darcy is also sworn to uphold the laws which forbid women to use magic, and Elizabeth knows it.

Elizabeth’s sentiments towards Darcy are quite different. She detests his arrogance, and she fears he will expose her use of forbidden magic. He is the last man in the world she would choose to help her on a difficult and dangerous task.

But when a magical war looms between the land of Faerie and their world, a Lord of Faerie demands that Darcy and Elizabeth serve together as his emissaries to make peace with the other mortals. That mission throws them into the middle of a chaotic power struggle between magicians whose power dwarfs their own, and everything Elizabeth has ever believed about her family, her friends, and her enemies will be called into question.

Sound interesting? Here’s the important part: even readers who don’t like fantasy have been liking this! I knew some readers would have doubts, so I’ve made it super-easy to try it out. The whole first part of the book is posted on line, starting here, and you can read the book for free on Kindle Unlimited.

But what does this have to do with kisses? I wanted to give you an all new excerpt today, but almost every scene in the book is loaded with spoilers. So I chose a scene that doesn’t need spoilers: Darcy & Elizabeth’s first kiss. Even so, I had to edit out a chunk out of the scene to remove spoilers!

~~~~~

Elizabeth jumped to her feet. “Mr. Darcy wishes to see me? At this hour? Did you tell him Lady Frederica and Miss de Bourgh have already retired?” She would have been abed herself if her body had not still hummed with nervous energy from the stressful day, or so she tried to convince herself. Or perhaps the rushing noise of the wind outside was responsible for her agitation. But those were just excuses. It was thoughts of Darcy that had kept her awake. Now he was here, and her body felt suddenly alive, her skin tingling with anticipation.

“I explained that, miss, but he insisted you were the one he wishes to speak to. Do you want me to stay with you while he is here?” The maid’s heavy eyelids were at odds with her offer.

“I will ring for you if I need you.” Elizabeth spoke with more assurance than she felt. She had been alone with Darcy on several occasions, both before and after his proposal, and he had never made any attempt to take advantage of the situation, but now she wondered how much she could trust herself. She had not been able to stop thinking about him since their brief conversation in Faerie when she had experienced that unaccountable urge to throw herself into his arms. He must know it, or why would he wish to see her alone in the middle of a windstorm? Or perhaps something had gone amiss at Rosings.

She tidied her hair, although at this point nothing would make it look freshly styled, and made her way downstairs to the sitting room. The maid had not yet taken the time to clean it fully, since she would have had no reason to expect guests before morning.

Darcy stood by the fireplace, his elbow resting on the mantel and his hand across his eyes. His hair looked as if the gardeners had taken a rake to it, and his usually tidy cravat was wrinkled, the earlier complex folds now retied into a simple schoolboy knot.

Her heart sank. Something must be very wrong. “Mr. Darcy, what is amiss?”

He started at her words and collected himself enough to bow. “My apologies for calling at this hour. I was walking the grounds and saw the light in your window. I hoped talking to you might clear my head.”

How did he know which window was hers? He had not been upstairs in the Dower House since she had moved there. And why did his head need clearing? He did not appear to be foxed, but he might well be less than sober. “It is late to be walking the grounds.”

His mouth twisted. “Going to sleep was not an appealing option.”

He was not going to make this easy for her. “How did your examination of the library go? Did you find proof of sorcery?”

His shoulders sagged. “We found an abundance of proof. I spent hours reading his journals. Sorcery is a viler thing than I ever realized. I feel unclean, as if nothing can ever wash away what I saw. That any man could do such things, much less a man I knew…” He turned haunted eyes to her.

The poor man! He was clearly suffering. But what comfort could she offer? “It takes great courage to confront the stuff of nightmares. The old stories of sorcerers – they are terrifying.”

“It is not courage. Richard is the bravest man I know, and he could not even bear to be in the room. He said the stench of sorcery made him ill.”

“How long did you stay there?”

He shrugged. “I left perhaps half an hour ago. I did not even stop for dinner because the mere thought of food turned my stomach.” He wiped the back of his hand against his mouth.

“I am so sorry.” If only she could relieve his pain!

“I am the one who should be sorry for imposing on you with my tale of woe.”

“Pray do not be sorry. If speaking of it can provide any comfort…”

“Talking to you was not my only reason for coming here.” He took a few quick steps across the room to look out the window. “When an elemental mage feels something strongly, the elements respond. If I do not keep my emotions in check, there can be floods, fires, whirlwinds. I have learned how to control my moods to prevent such things. Tonight I could not do so. You heard the wind.” He clenched his hands. “For reasons I cannot explain, the elements do not respond to me as strongly when I am with you, so I came here before I flooded the village or burnt down Rosings.”

Elizabeth stared at him. “You think that I somehow interfere with your magic?”

“I do not know what it is. I only know that certain people seem to lessen my effect on the elements. Or perhaps I should say certain creatures, since your cat has the same effect. When Pepper is on my lap, the elements might as well not exist.” His agitation seemed to be increasing rather than decreasing.

“No wonder you are fond of her.” Could this be why he had sought out Elizabeth’s company so often? “I assume proximity must help, then.” She crossed the room to sit next to where he stood, trying to pretend she would not rather be closer still.

His mouth twisted. “Proximity helps to subdue the elements, but in your case, it is also dangerous.”

“Dangerous? I do not understand.”

He stepped jerkily until he was directly in front of her, his face drawn. “Elizabeth,” he said hoarsely. “I know you do not want me. I know you despise mages and would never consider… But I beg of you, do not send me away.” He grasped her hands. “For the love of God, let me hold you, so that I can remember there is some good in the world, and that I am not all alone against the darkness.” His voice throbbed with raw need, but it was the need for comfort, not the desire of a man for a woman.

How could she refuse him what he so desperately needed, especially when she wanted it so badly herself?

He drew her to him before she had time to think further. Her cheek rested against his chest, the superfine wool of his coat providing softness over the muscle beneath it. Her hands clutched his shoulders, and there was nothing soft about them. But it was his hands splayed against her back she felt most of all, tempting her as he held her close.

The weight of his head rested on top of hers in a way that felt all too natural. She could hear the steady thudding of his heart. His clean scent of shaving soap and spice was overlaid by dust and ink. Sensation surrounded her – the warmth of his arms around her, his somehow delicate touch on her back, and the astonishing intimacy of pressing herself against him so closely that she could feel his chest rise and fall with each breath, creating an ache deep within her. If only she had not been wearing her shawl, she might have felt the warmth of his long fingers through the thin fabric of her dress. The mere thought raised the tide of longing.

How mortifying it was! He wanted comfort, and all she could feel was wantonness. What a triumph for him, could he know that the proposals which she had proudly spurned less than a fortnight ago would now have been gladly and gratefully received! He was as generous, she doubted not, as the most generous of his sex. But while he was mortal, there must be a triumph, even now, when any connection between them was impossible. So much had changed since that evening when she had so bitterly and foolishly refused his proposal.

Now his heartbeat sped up, so perhaps he was not altogether indifferent to her charms. Not that it mattered now.

He released her then, leaving her even more bereft. “I apologize, Miss Elizabeth. You are generous, but I should not be imperiling your reputation for my own selfish needs.”

“My reputation?” She sank down onto the sofa, hoping he would not realize that it was because her legs were having trouble supporting her. “I have no reputation.”

The wind whistled past and rattled the window panes.

Darcy abruptly moved to sit beside Elizabeth on the sofa, his shoulders slumping. “My apologies. The wind is picking up again.”

How could she bear to watch this proud man brought so low? She placed her hand gently over his. “Does that help?”

He nodded silently. After a moment he said explosively, “I cannot believe this is happening. I never lose control like this.”

“Never? That is a very high standard.”

“It is a necessary standard,” he snapped.

She hated to see him criticize himself so harshly. “You have had a difficult time. Your family has been turned upside down as much as mine. And that was before you had to face sorcery tonight.” Not to mention having a heartfelt, if ill-expressed, proposal of marriage thrown back in his face. “It would be more astonishing if your control were not slipping.”

Somehow she had to help him. Without conscious thought, she found herself laying the fingers of one hand against his cheek. It was rougher than she had expected, but he would not have shaved before the dinner he had not eaten. The poor man deserved so much better, and she ached because she could not give it to him.

He stiffened and turned his head to face her, his eyes dark with pain. She could not have looked away to save her life. Tension hung in the air between them.

Then his lips sought hers, the gentle pressure making her lips part instinctively. This was what she had needed, this all too human touch from this particular man. She made a little choking noise in her throat as an ache rose deep inside her. As if it had been an invitation, his kiss became hungrier, with a desperate need.

She arched towards him, instinctively seeking more of him. More of his lips, the tantalizing, spicy taste of him, and more of the flutters of pleasure expanding from her deepest parts. She leaned into the hand cradling the back of her neck as he nibbled her lip. The sensual onslaught only intensified as he deepened the kiss as if responding to the need building within her. The last of her remaining ability to think fled as he explored her mouth, and she became a creature of pure sensation and need. She needed his touch and his closeness more than she needed air to breathe.

Her hands seemed to develop a life of their own, winding around his neck, seeking even more contact. He groaned and pulled her closer, but it could never be close enough, even as she felt the warmth of his body through his clothes. She gave a whimper of protest as he dragged his mouth away from hers, only to begin a new onslaught as his lips fluttered along her cheek, nibbled her earlobe, and found the exquisitely sensitive spot where her neck met her jaw.

Oh, who could have known her neck could provide such overpowering, burning pleasure? She tipped her head to the side, exposing more of her flesh to his forays.

Her clothes suddenly seemed to constrain her, chafing tender skin as his tongue skimmed her collarbone. When he discovered the notch at the base of her neck, something inside her seemed to melt. The cascading intensity of her need began to overpower her. Surely he would go lower, to that skin bared by her neckline that was longing for his touch! But he did not, and she thought she might expire from the loss until he reclaimed her lips, this time with a devouring certainty. She met him with her own demands even as she accepted his claim. As his hand finally began to explore the curves of her body, a swell of desire swept through her, leaving her trembling and straining against him.

A loud crash broke through the sensual spell trapping Elizabeth. She pulled back from him just as a second crash was followed by the sound of shattering glass. Something slammed shut with a resounding bang. It seemed to be coming from above them.

Good heavens, how had she ended up on Darcy’s lap?

The third crash made the walls shake. Elizabeth scrambled off Darcy’s lap and raced up the stairs, Darcy close behind her.

The wild racket was coming from Miss de Bourgh’s room. Elizabeth threw open the door. Inside a whirlwind had knocked over furniture, pulled paintings off the wall, and scattered bits of debris everywhere. A window hung open, dangling from a single hinge.

Darcy’s hand on her shoulder tugged her back. “Do not go in. It is not safe for you.” He strode past her into the room, ignoring the whirlwind tearing at his clothes, and pulled back the bed curtains to reveal a sleeping form.

How could Miss de Bourgh possibly sleep through this racket?

“Good heavens!” Frederica stood behind her in nothing but a nightgown, staring at the wreckage.

Pounding footsteps on the stairs signaled the arrival of a footman and the maid, now wide awake and gaping at the sight. A blur of white fur passed by them, racing into the room. Pepper leapt onto the bed and sprawled herself across Miss de Bourgh’s sleeping body.

There was sudden silence as the whirlwind vanished. The whistling of the wind outside disappeared.

Darcy tipped his head back, as if consulting heaven. “It was not me,” he said incredulously. “It was her.”

“She created the windstorm while she slept?” Elizabeth asked in astonishment.

He nodded. “Your cat is worth her weight in gold. She stopped it.”

“Pepper did? Then she deserves all the fish she can eat tomorrow.”

Pepper purred loudly enough to be heard from the door.

Darcy came back out to the landing, rubbing his forehead. “Since my father died, I have been the only strong elemental mage in England. It never occurred to me that the windstorm could be caused by someone else. I should have seen it coming.”

~~~~~

(fans self) Does it feel a little warm in here to you?

I have a favor to ask. Even if you think you won’t like this book because it has fantasy elements, would you please read the first chapter, just to oblige me? Pretty please? You’ll find links at the bottom of each post to the next chapter.

Thanks for reading!

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