Cover Reveal, Excerpt & Ongoing Giveaway

Hello, and thanks again for your wonderful comments to my first post about my new book!

Your warm welcome means so much to me! Thank you!! You’re amazing!!

I hope you’ll like the cover too, and the excerpt I’m posting today.

Book Blurb:

A narrow escape and a staggering encounter mere miles from the gates of Pemberley leave Mr Darcy in no doubt: The Fates have grown tired of nudging gently.

And now Elizabeth is in his home. Beside him. Every waking hour of every day.

“I missed you. Dreadfully. And now you are here. Against all odds, you came to Pemberley, and every moment brings fresh glimpses of what my life could be if you stayed.”

Will she?

Thanks to a broken bridge and a heavy snowfall, she is not going anywhere. Not yet, anyway.

How is he to persuade her to remain forever while maddening houseguests would do anything to thwart him, and an old secret is at work behind the scenes?

The temptation of having Elizabeth and Mr Darcy stuck under the same roof until they come to their senses must be almost as old as JAFF itself. I finally gave in to it 😀  . So come to Pemberley to be snowed in with them and with Mr Darcy’s invited and uninvited guests. I promise you will find plenty of things to delight you.

How about another excerpt now? Let me set the scene. It’s the 17^th of February 1812. For the last six weeks, Mr Gardiner had been obliged to stay in Bakewell to visit mills and manufactories and set a troublesome business venture on the right course. His wife and children had accompanied him. So had Jane and Elizabeth, to help take care of their young cousins Edward, Harriet (Hetty), little Charles and Emily.

And now they are on their way home. Is it going to be a smooth and trouble-free journey? I don’t think so 😛

SNOWBOUND

Excerpt from Chapter 1

“Oh, dear!” Jane exclaimed when another gust of wind rocked the vehicle so badly that Charles and his older brother, Edward, nearly jostled each other from the seat.

Elizabeth wrapped her arm around the younger boy to keep him in place just as Jane did the same for Edward, who looked distinctly unamused at finding himself hugged as if he were a babe in need of protection – and him nigh on eight years of age! Elizabeth fought hard to suppress a grin, and since she could not vouch for her success, she chose to turn her head towards the window.

The prospect had opened on her side of the road, which must have accounted for the increased exposure to the wind. No longer protected by a screen of trees, the carriage was now mercilessly buffeted by one violent gust after another. A few moments later, the forceful pounding tore an anxious little squeak from her cousin Harriet.

“We shan’t be overset, Papa, shall we?” she fretfully asked, and Mr Gardiner hastened to reassure her:

“No, love. As you have pointed out, there are many of us in the carriage, so have no fear, our combined weight and that of our trunks will keep the wheels firmly on the ground. Besides, old Higgins knows his business. With him in the coachman’s seat we are sure to be safe and steady.”

He had scarce finished speaking when little Charles cheered.

“Look! Look! ‘Tis snowing!” he cried, beaming at the large flakes that had suddenly begun to swirl beyond the carriage windows.

Mr Gardiner grimaced.

“How much further to the nearest inn, my dear, do you know?” he asked his wife.

A few seconds were enough for Mrs Gardiner to find her bearings.

“It seems to me that we are nearing the Pember. Once we cross the bridge, I expect that at this speed we shall reach the Rose and Crown in Hawkesmoor in another half an hour.”

“There, Hetty. Not long now,” Edward murmured, reaching out to pat his sister’s knee in a protective elder-brother fashion, even though he was the best part of two years younger.

An affectionate smile tugging at the corners of her lips, Elizabeth allowed her gaze to drift towards the hills that rose far into the distance to meet the wind-whipped clouds – a scenery of haunting, breathtaking beauty – and could not help thinking that Mr Darcy was most fortunate indeed to have this for his home country. Even if it should look forbidding and occasionally bleak. Much like the man himself, in fact. Perhaps the landscape that had formed the backdrop of his boyhood was to blame in some small measure for those selfsame traits in him, she archly mused, and chuckled.

“What is it, Lizzy? Did you see something diverting?” Charles asked, leaning forward for a better look.

Elizabeth shook her head.

“No. Just a passing thought,” she said.

And then all of a sudden everything went horribly wrong. The coachman called out – a loud, inarticulate sound, instantly followed by, “Whoa, lads! Steady on! Whoa!”

The coach veered off course towards the dry stone wall on Jane and Mrs Gardiner’s side, and violently jolted over uneven ground. A sickening creak rose and filled the air, then built into an ominous roar, much like a long, deafening roll of thunder. It nearly drowned out Emily’s wail, the rattling of the carriage, the cries of alarm and the frightened questions:

“Good heavens!”

“What is that?”

“I’m scared, Mamma!”

“Me too!”

“What is happening, Lizzy? Can you see?”

“Papa, what is going on?”

And then, making everything worse, Mr Gardiner’s horrified, “Good God!” followed by a forceful, “Don’t look, Hetty!” as he covered his daughter’s eyes with his hand and pressed her head against his chest, while the carriage tilted dangerously to the left, scraped against the wall, bounced back, redressed itself and finally came to a halt.

Despite the urgency of Mr Gardiner’s entreaty, Elizabeth instinctively did the opposite: she whipped round to look out of the window – and froze. With the conveyance at an odd angle now, its rear protruding into the road, she could clearly see the bridge ahead, the coach hurtling across at break-neck speed, the giant tree… falling… relentlessly falling, about to lay waste to everything in its path… then missing the careering vehicle by inches! The tree collapsed with an almighty crash and took out the bridge, mere moments after the coach had cleared it.

“The Lord be praised,” Mr Gardiner breathed, and Elizabeth shuddered in belated terror as she silently offered her own thankful prayer, however incoherent.

Somewhat of a titter – a nervous response – left her lips as she sank back into the seat and saw Hetty tugging at her father’s hand so that she might peep over his gloved fingers, before Mr Gardiner collected himself and let his hand drop from his daughter’s face to her shoulder. The others leaned over to catch a glimpse as well, while Mrs Gardiner’s murmurs and her kisses seemed to dispel Emily’s fears, for the loud sobs subsided and soon gave way to a lisped query:

“What was that awful noise?”

As though her plaintive little voice had awakened the others from their stupor, a great many more questions rang out, all at once. Was it all over now? Were they out of danger? What had happened after all, and what was to be done?

Mr Gardiner began to answer in soothing, measured tones, giving them a carefully abridged account of events, and assuring them that they had never been in danger. Predictably, that did not suffice. Another flurry of fretful questions came, but by then Elizabeth was no longer listening. The babble of voices could barely reach her as she stared in lingering shock at the approaching carriage – the dark chestnuts, their eyes still wide with fright – the ashen-faced coachman wrapping the reins thrice around his wrist and thus freeing his hand to make the sign of the cross, then regaining purchase on the leather straps and pulling them as taut as might be, so that he could bring his team to a standstill that much quicker.

Despite his efforts, the carriage was moving at some speed as it drove past, and it was yet another testament to the man’s skill that, with a brief but grateful response to Higgins’ words of praise, he safely negotiated the narrow space between the Gardiners’ conveyance and the stone wall on the other side.

Although she could no longer see it all that well through the opposite windows, over Jane’s shoulder and the children’s bobbing heads, Elizabeth could eventually espy the larger vehicle drawing to a halt, the four chestnuts still stomping and snorting. In a short while, the right-hand door opened into the road and a man stepped out. A gentleman, judging by his attire and the imposing coach from which he had alighted. He bowed his head and clung to the side of the conveyance to steady himself for a brief moment – still dazed by the hideous experience, no doubt, Elizabeth assumed with a rush of compassion. And then she saw her sister spin round to face her.

“Good grief! ‘Tis Mr Darcy!” Jane gasped.

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Excerpt from Chapter 2

Breath caught in Elizabeth’s throat and she leaned forward to peer out of Jane’s window. Aye, her sister was in the right. The gentleman was Mr Darcy.

Another shudder shook her, more violent than the first. She did not wonder at it. A moment ago, she had been overcome with compassion for one she had taken for a mere stranger. How could she not be even more affected now, when she knew who he was?

It mattered not that he was prideful and overbearing and had antagonised her at every turn from the first day of their acquaintance. The horrific end he had so narrowly escaped would have been a hideous fate for anyone – even Bonaparte himself! Cut down in his prime… crushed to death, mere miles from his home… almost on his very doorstep! It did not bear thinking that it might have come to pass – that she might have seen him perish under her very eyes. Or that his sister, who must be awaiting his return, should be faced instead with sombre strangers bringing her the heartbreaking tidings. So what if she was just as Mr Wickham had described her – proud and puffed up with her own importance? Such a dreadful loss would have been a devastating blow to anyone.

“We should lend assistance,” Mr Gardiner said, jolting her from the darkest of reflections, and Elizabeth shook her head as if to clear it of the sickening thoughts.

Whatever had possessed her to dwell on a tragedy that had been averted? It was not her way. Not her way at all.

“Yes, we should,” Elizabeth concurred, just as her aunt and sister readily chorused their own agreement.

But a moment later they could see that Mr Darcy was in no need of assistance. He seemed to have regained full command over himself and the situation. Elizabeth heard him speak, his voice loud and clear, and utterly devoid of its habitual ring of aloof indifference:

“Thomas – Peter – are you well down there?” he called out towards his footmen, arguably the ones who had been in the severest danger on their small platform at the back of the carriage. “What of you, Joseph? How are you faring?” he asked his coachman, once the footmen had given him the requested conformation, leapt from their place and rounded the vehicle to join him.

“Just fine an’ dandy, sir,” the coachman replied, grinning from ear to ear. “An’ mighty glad to see ye in one piece, if I may say so.”

“That makes two of us,” Mr Darcy retorted, then solemnly added, “’Tis only thanks to your quick thinking. I owe you a life. We all do.”

“In good conscience, sir, I can’t take much credit,” Joseph said. “When I heard that godawful creak, I thought to meself, ‘That’s it, it’s coming down right on top of us an’ all.’ An’ then it felt as if it weren’t me, but St Christopher hisself who flicked the reins an’ drove us to safety.”

“Either way, we should give daily praise for our deliverance. Now, I say you allow them some time to recover,” he instructed, tilting his head towards the unsettled chestnuts, “then take us home to double rations.”

“They’ll be right pleased wi’ that, sir,” Joseph chortled. “An’ if ye’re speaking of rum too, not just oats and hay, I shan’t be the one to gainsay you.”

“Damn the rum, man! I am speaking of the finest oak-aged brandy,” his master countered with uncharacteristic yet fully justified good cheer and, on cue, an arm was extended from the carriage, proffering what seemed to be a flask.

But Mr Darcy gave a gesture of refusal.

“Much obliged. I might take you up on that later. I had better speak with the other party first. We drove them off the road. And with the bridge gone, they will have to make different arrangements.”

True, Elizabeth silently agreed. She had not considered that particular aspect, too caught up in the aftermath of the near-disaster. Well, she had wished that they were not headed home so soon, had she not? As the old adage went, one should beware what one wished for.

And then Mr Darcy turned around – squinted – then stared.

“Miss Bennet!” he exclaimed, yet Elizabeth could have almost sworn that his gaze had skimmed but briefly over her sister’s countenance and settled upon her.

She dismissed the false impression for a trick of the light. The greatest surprise – nay, the shock – came from another quarter.

“What did you say?” she heard a familiar voice splutter, and darted her eyes to Jane just in time to see her sister blanch as Mr Bingley scrambled out and joined his friend in the middle of the road.

Behind them, a female head poked out from the vehicle, bonnet askew. Miss Bingley. Her mouth fell open in a most unladylike fashion, before she muttered something inaudible and drew back. But Miss Bingley was the least of her concerns, Elizabeth determined, as she reached behind Charles and Edward to lay a comforting hand on her sister’s arm.

****

“This is extraordinary!” she heard Mr Darcy say as the gentlemen approached with long, purposeful strides.

“Allow me to help you out,” Mr Bingley offered and made to open the nearest door, only to find himself thwarted in his efforts. “No use. It will not budge,” he said with frustration, then frowned as he ran his hand over the wood panel. “This seems to have taken a battering. The lock must be jammed. Thank goodness that the windows were not broken. There is nothing for it, I fear. You will have to use the other door. I shall…”

His voice trailed off as he signalled his intention to walk round and hand them down on the other side. Mrs Gardiner nodded in agreement, but Jane studiously kept her eyes averted, having flashed him a couple of glances only when she could do so with impunity, while his attention had been fixed on the unyielding door.

Elizabeth soon noted that Mr Darcy met with no such obstruction. He had made his way to her uncle’s side directly so that he might speak with the obvious figure of authority, no doubt. But as the door swung open at the merest tug, his first words were for her:

“Are you well? I hope you were not harmed,” Mr Darcy said, his eyes travelling searchingly over her. “The carriage looks as though it had been dragged against the wall. It must have been a shock. All the more so for the children.”

“We are unscathed, sir, I thank you. Not a scratch,” Elizabeth replied. “Happily, the little ones seem to have borne the experience quite well. And so have you. Praise be, you are safe and sound, and the rest of your party likewise. I am so relieved! We all are,” she earnestly said, while her relations seconded her with murmurs of agreement.

“As are we, I assure you,” replied Mr Darcy, disconcerting her with a boyish grin that made him look a decade younger. His glance drifted to the other occupants of the carriage as he asked, “Would you do me the honour of introducing me to your friends?”

“Of course. Aunt, may I introduce Mr Darcy… and Mr Bingley,” Elizabeth added, once that gentleman had joined them. “We have made their acquaintance last autumn, in Hertfordshire,” she supplied, if only for form’s sake. “Gentlemen – Mrs Edward Gardiner, my uncle Mr Gardiner and their family.”

His surprise readily apparent, Mr Darcy bowed with a civil, “Ma’am – sir,” while Mr Bingley did the same and quietly declared himself delighted. “My people will assist with turning the carriage around,” Mr Darcy resumed. “Then I hope you will allow me the pleasure of hosting you at Pemberley,” he offered, making Elizabeth’s eyes widen.

© 2023 Joana Starnes

‘Snowbound’ cover design © 2023 Joana Starnes. Artwork sources:  photos J Starnes and Pixabay

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So, what do you think?

The international Giveaway from last week’s post (4 paperbacks) is open until midnight EST on 31 Jan 2023. The winners will be announced on 3 Feb 2023, but I’m hoping that the eBook will go live a little sooner than that.

In the meantime, if you’d like to find out what happened in the orangery after the snowball fight in last week’s post (New Year, New Book), check out my post at Austenesque Reviews on Monday ( 23 Jan). I hope you’ll like what you see :))

Bye for now, have a lovely day and thanks for reading!