News! My latest book, Meet Your Mark, just got released! It is available in all Kindle stores and on Kindle Unlimited. This is the second book in my series, A Collection of Unusual Tales. Each of these stories has something a little out of the ordinary. This story features soul marks, a theme I’ve enjoyed reading for a while now and wanted to try my hand at. I hope you like my take on it. 🙂

Meet Your Mark: In a world where one may choose a soul mark on their thirteenth birthday, Elizabeth Bennet chooses to be marked. Her soulmate is less than pleased about that fact.

Fitzwilliam Darcy is certain he knows better than Fate. Until his life turns upside down and he meets an impertinent lady in Hertfordshire.

With Fate in charge, who knows what will happen?

Here’s a peek at the book.

Prologue

It is a truth universally acknowledged that pride never serves one so ill as in matters of the heart. This fact was so well established in England that for centuries, pride was removed entirely from the choosing of one’s spouse.

There had long been a tradition of having one’s partner in life chosen for one—not by parents or well-meaning relatives, but by Fate herself. It was a remarkably simple process. When a person reached their thirteenth year—an age of supposed reason and responsibility—said person would wear their best clothes and be taken to church by their parents where they would undergo a simple ceremony. The vicar—or priest or rabbi or some other holy vessel—would congratulate the child on surviving his or her tender years, bless the child with a few words and gestures, and if desired, beseech the heavens for a mark. A mark that would appear on their person, often on the arms or shoulders, gradually over the next months. At the same time, an identical mark would be etched upon their soul’s true mate.

Marks varied greatly in style and coloration. Lady Alton famously had a beautiful purple iris on the back side of her right shoulder. It was so intricate it took an entire year for it to be completed on her skin. Etched delicately along one of the petals was the name ‘John Anthony.’ She had several gowns specially made to show off the elegant mark and was the envy of more than one lady with less eye-catching embellishments.

Luckily, Sir John Anthony Alton had a matching flower on his right thigh—an usual place for a mark, to be sure—though the size of the flower and the fact that purple looked dreadful with his complexion made him grateful it was in such a discreet location. His lady’s name was written in a delicate script along the largest petal, just as his name was on hers.

He also happened to possess an estate with a fabulous garden, famous for its irises. The couple were ridiculously happy together, and their gardens—and their elegant marks—were the envy of many.

Others were not so lucky.

Miranda Whitney had an anchor on her left bicep, a large chain snaking around it and the initials ‘JF’ conspicuously placed alongside the shaft. She was so embarrassed by the crude drawing and the dull grey color that she wore longer sleeves all year round, even on hot summer days and long after short sleeves had come into fashion. Her particular mark was popular with sailors of all sorts, and the initials ‘JF’ were entirely too common. Her mother energetically pursued Mr. John Franklin, Sir Jerome Frederick, Mr. Josiah Farnsworth, and to Miranda’s great embarrassment, a vicar named Jedidiah Fockney.

She had all but given up on meeting her mate when she was five and twenty and accompanied her cousin to Lyme where she met Jeffrey Fuller, a naval captain destined for success and equally relieved to have met his elusive ‘MW’ after years of searching for her.

Thus the tradition continued, with lords and laborers alike receiving their blessings at the tender age of thirteen and watching in anxious anticipation as their marks took shape on their persons. That is until 1742 when Lord Banning, the fourth earl of his line, matched with the daughter of one of his tenants.

It was thought to be a unique situation and while disconcerting, not enough so to change a habit of centuries. But then one of the king’s cousins matched with a knight in his majesty’s service, creating a great scandal. Though it should be said that neither gentleman objected to the pairing per se, they only wished it had been less public in nature. This was followed in 1750 by the Marquis of Tarkington matching to a maid at a neighboring estate—an Irish maid at that—and after this third and devastating strike, the nobility lost their faith in soul marks. Clearly Fate was toying with them, and they were too proud to be played with like mice at the mercy of a cat. They would steer their own ships, master their own destinies, and choose their own wives.

It goes without saying that the next generation of marriages saw a drastic increase in separate bedchambers, mistresses kept in cozy cottages, and babes born on the wrong side of the blanket. There were even a handful of scandalous divorces, but it could not be helped. After all, it was better to divorce a Lady than to marry a scullery maid.

The working classes, of course, maintained the old tradition, as did the rising merchant class, though it was thought they likely continued to receive their marks in the hopes of capturing a title or a grand dowry. The lower gentry were occasionally marked as well, the practice being more popular in the country and with those who did not frequent Town and therefore did not hear the derisive comments made about those who chose the archaic practice of soul marking and true matches over the modern custom of ruthless practicality.

The upper classes consoled themselves that though they may be less happy in their unions than their poorer counterparts, their coffers were fuller and their bloodlines unpolluted. There was the odd case of a mark appearing on a wealthy gentleman after he had married a well-dowered bride, and though everyone knew a mate without their match would suffer loneliness and ennui, forever dissatisfied with every woman who was not her, it was considered a small price to pay for doing one’s duty to one’s family and class.

The young lady so foolish as to undergo a marking ceremony and doomed to be matchless forever was not considered in this equation, of course.

In the north of England, the Fitzwilliam family had ceased the practice of marking after their cousin’s unfortunate alliance—the Marquis of Tarkington may be shockingly happy with his Irish maid, but his Fitzwilliam cousins could not stomach such an indignity. Other noble families followed suit, as did the wealthy landowners, including the Darcys of Derbyshire.

Frederick Darcy, who was of an age to be marked in 1742, was frightened off the process by the story of Lord Banning’s scandalous match earlier that year. Combined with having seen his father waste slowly away after his mother’s death in childbed, and a more than usual desire to have things ordered just so, he decided to forego the mark altogether. It was an unusual choice at the time, but Darcys were known for doing as they wished and not caring a whit for society’s approval. In this case, young Frederick Darcy was thought to be wise indeed, for within a decade, the process of marking had all but ceased in the upper classes.

Thus Frederick’s son, George Darcy, did not receive a mark, nor did George’s eventual wife Lady Anne Fitzwilliam. It was a practical match on all sides. Her dowry and noble blood plus his fine estate and extensive property (nearly half of Derbyshire!)—not to mention an excessively pleasing countenance—made for happy parties amongst both their families.

Their son, Fitzwilliam Darcy, having more than his fair share of the Fitzwilliam pride and the Darcy independence (and his father’s good looks), also chose to forego a mark. In possession of an intelligent mind and a clever turn of thought, he could not comprehend how Fate could choose a wife better for him than he could choose himself.

It was simply not possible.

Click here to see the book on Amazon.