Release Day Giveaway for Body and Soul and Another Sneak Peak

Happy Release Day for Body and Soul!

A reader suggested this story’s plot bunny, and it turned out so well. If you’ve been following the snippets on Facebook, you’ll know that this is a redemption story of sorts. Mrs. Bennet and Elizabeth must overcome their differences, but not just them. Mr. Bennet and Mr. Darcy also switch bodies, though later in the story. They must also overcome the struggles that exist between them and their respective ladies.

I will be giving 2 lucky readers a copy of this book as a prize! To enter the giveaway, comment on the post.

You can get the book here, available on Amazon and Kindle Unlimited: Take me to Body and Soul!

Read on for Chapter Two of this story:

November 27, 1811
Longbourn
Elizabeth

She knew something was not right even before her eyes opened. Her chambers smelled different, like her mother’s perfume. The coverlet on her bed felt heavier, and even her pillows had lumps in the wrong places. Blinking blearily, Elizabeth opened her eyes. Heavy curtains surrounded the bed that she recognized as belonging to the mistress’s chambers.

Why am I in Mama’s room? she thought, sitting up slowly. She reached out and pushed the curtains around the bed aside. The room was dim. Heavy drapes pulled across the windows had obscured all natural light. Elizabeth could not see well enough to light a candle, so she put her legs over the side of the bed, surprised when they touched the floor without dangling. As she stood, the feeling of vertigo from the night before returned and she swayed.

Every movement felt foreign as she groped her way to the window. Still partially asleep, she yanked the curtains open and blinked in the bright light. Much better. Elizabeth turned back toward the bed, determined to find an explanation for her presence in her mother’s chambers. As she stepped forward, she paused. The last vestiges of sleep fell away from her thoughts and she took inventory of her person.

The nightgown she wore did not belong to her. It was trimmed in an excessive amount of lace and made of the softest cotton she had ever felt. Reaching a hand up, she touched her braid where it hung down over her shoulder. It did not feel as thick as it usually did. Lifting it so she could see it, she gasped. Gone were her dark brown locks and, in their place, a golden rope with a few strands of gray.

“It is not possible!” Elizabeth moved with all haste to her mother’s full-length mirror and peered at her reflection in dread. Staring back at her was Mrs. Bennet’s countenance. Immediately, she began screaming. Panic overwhelmed her, and she touched her face in mortification.

The door connecting her mother’s rooms to her father’s opened and Mr. Bennet stumbled in dressed in nothing but a nightshirt. “Fanny?” he cried. “What is the matter?”

Elizabeth screamed again and covered her eyes. Never had she seen her father in such a state of undress, and she wanted to blush violently.

“Look at me!” she cried, dropping her hands and spinning to face him. The sound of her mother’s voice issuing from her mouth caused a new wave of panic and her breathing sped again. “What has happened? Why do I look so old?”

Papa chuckled and shook his head. “My dear, you are nine-and-thirty! It is natural that a lady appears older when she is older. I cannot imagine why you thought to wake me in such a manner after our long night, and for something so inconsequential. I believe I shall go back to bed now. Best wishes with your wrinkles and gray hair.”

Stupefied, Elizabeth watched her father leave the room and close the door firmly behind him. His remarks smarted, even though she knew they were not directed at her. He would be no help. Shaking her head, she looked around for her mother’s robe and hastily donned it, tying the sash tightly around her waist. Every movement felt foreign. Everything about how she thought, how her clothing fit, and the shape of her body felt just as strange.

Logic prevailed. If she was trapped in her mother’s body, then Mama was most assuredly trapped in hers. Elizabeth slipped her feet into her mother’s slippers and left her rooms, walking a few paces down the hall to her own bedroom door. She opened it without knocking and closed it firmly behind her.

“Mama,” she hissed. “Mama, wake up.”

“Leave me alone, Lizzy. Goodness, it is far too early to be up and about. Whatever you wish to say can wait.” How very strange it was seeing herself lying in the bed, hearing her voice coming from another.

“Wake up this instant,” she said, poking her prone form sharply. “We have something we must discuss, and it cannot wait.”

“If you mean to go on about refusing Mr. Collins again, I shall hear you later.” Elizabeth’s body rolled away.

“Enough!” She yanked the coverlet aside, exposing her mother to the chilled air. The figure in the bed shrieked and sat up.

“What is the meaning of this…?” she trailed off, blinking stupidly. “Why am I in your room?” Mama asked. Her eyes widened, and she looked down at her hands. She went through the same motions Elizabeth had in the other room, even going so far as to look at the braid lying over her shoulder. Gasping, Mama/Lizzy shot out of bed and rushed to the mirror. Elizabeth followed, clamping a hand over her mother’s mouth before her screams woke the entire house.

It was very odd, watching her movements in the mirror and seeing her mother’s form move instead of her own. The expressions on what should have been her face went from anger to fear to panic before she fainted. Elizabeth’s new arms were not strong enough to support her old form’s weight, and they collapsed in a heap.

How embarrassing. She had never swooned in her entire life! Mama’s nerves seem to have accompanied her to my body, she thought bitterly. There was nothing to do but wait for her to rouse. Elizabeth could not get up, pinned as she was beneath her own body.

It did not take long for Mrs. Bennet to awaken. She groaned and rolled over, pushing herself into a sitting position. Elizabeth likewise shifted until she could lean against the wardrobe.

“What is going on?” her mother whispered. She flinched and touched her face. “Why am I… like this?”

“I hardly know. I awoke in your bed and in your body.” Elizabeth hoped she sounded calm and sensible and not at all like the nervous wreck she felt inside.

“And I am in yours! How can this be?” Elizabeth’s mama put her hands to her cheeks.

My cheeks, she thought. She put her hands to my cheeks. Oh, I hope I never have such an expression on my face ever again. The vapid incredulity there reminded Elizabeth too much of Lydia. “What can we do to right this?” she asked. “I have no desire to be trapped in this manner for the rest of my life.”

“How am I supposed to know?” Mama snapped. “You are supposed to be the intelligent one.” She tossed her head as she often did, but Elizabeth’s much heavier braid did not cooperate and go obligingly over her shoulder.

“We might try forcing it,” Elizabeth said haltingly.

“Yes! A jolt. Let us try colliding with each other.” Elizabeth’s mother came to her feet easily, unencumbered by age. Elizabeth, on the other hand, had to struggle to her feet.

“Is it always so hard for you to stand?” she complained.

“Yes, my dear.” Her mother patted her hand. “I never sit anywhere uncomfortable now if I can help it. Oh, what a wonderful thing to be young again!”

Elizabeth frowned. “Do try your best not to get used to it. I am sure we can put this to rights in no time. Now, you go stand over there, and I shall stand here. Let us run at each other. The jolt might shock us back into our own bodies.”

Thankfully, her mother did not argue. They positioned themselves at opposite ends of the room. Elizabeth counted to three, and they ran toward each other. They collided forcefully and fell backwards. Groaning, she tried to roll over and found it impossible.

“Help me,” she hissed at her mother. Mama obliged, her strength in Elizabeth’s body aiding her efforts. Elizabeth struggled to her feet and stumbled to the bed. “Well, that did not work,” she groaned. “Perhaps there is some other reason for this travesty.”

They both pondered for a moment before Mama gasped beside her. “It is because of your stubborn refusal to have Mr. Collins,” she said enthusiastically. “As you, I can accept a proposal! When your foolishness has been corrected, we shall exchange places.”

“That is absurd!” Elizabeth struggled to her feet and rounded on her mother. She placed her hands on her hips. “You will do nothing to jeopardize my future!”

“And why should I not?” Mrs. Bennet huffed angrily and folded her arms. She pouted very much like Lydia did, and Elizabeth cringed to see such an expression on her own features.

“That is my body!” Elizabeth cried. “This cannot be permanent. If either of us does anything we would later regret, it could be ruinous!”

“I am still your mother, Miss Lizzy.” Mama stood and came toward her. “You will obey me in this matter.”

“You may be my mother in spirit, but not in person. I will do everything I can to prevent you from tying me to that bumbling buffoon, even if it means locking you in here until he departs!” Elizabeth whirled away and made for the door.

“You would not dare!” Her mother grabbed her arm as she had the night before, but Elizabeth’s new, larger stature proved to her advantage, and she wrenched her arm away.

“I have warned you, Elizabeth,” she said with relish. “Do anything contrary to what I would, and you will regret it, especially if we remain trapped thus for an extended period of time. Everyone else will see me as your mother, Mrs. Frances Bennet, and I intend to play my part to the fullest.”

Her mother scoffed. “It will not be hard to be you. All I need to do is judge others without knowing them and put on a show of knowing better than anyone else!”

“I do not behave like that!” Elizabeth protested.

Mama laughed mirthlessly. “Oh, yes, you do! You sketch characters without truly looking at a person’s motives. You question everything I have done for years in an attempt to see you all well settled and secure. I hope as Mrs. Fanny Bennet you learn more than you have of human nature than as Miss Elizabeth Bennet!”

Enraged, Elizabeth stormed out. She would not hear anything more. Glancing down at her attire, she resolved to change before going to the breakfast room. She needed sustenance. This new form’s stomach already protested how empty it was. This felt strange to Elizabeth. She never liked breakfast, choosing a light repast after one of her morning walks. Mama’s body, though still handsome, had more curves and a soft stomach. Likely from over indulgence, she thought grimly. I shall have to rectify that immediately. I wonder if Mama has any gowns suitable for a morning walk.

She opened the mistress’s suite door and entered, closing it behind her. The rage she had felt moments ago had cooled. Her heart beat erratically, and in a way that felt unfamiliar. Were these the nervous flutterings her mother so often complained about? If so, she could understand why Mama seemed distressed when they happened. The rapid beats of her heart made Elizabeth’s breathing speed and a strange feeling of anxiety stole over her. Determined to ignore it and go on a walk, she went to the closet and threw it open.

“Lace, lace, lace,” she muttered darkly. Finally, at the back of the closet, she found a serviceable gown. The dark blue color would flatter her new complexion, and only a few ribbons adorned it. How silly of me to think of my looks, she chuckled to herself. Mama is already married, after all. I need not put unnecessary effort into looking handsome. Papa will behave as he always does, regardless of what I wear. Her father had disdained her mother for so long that it seemed only natural that he would continue to behave in a like manner.

Elizabeth called for Sally. Her mother’s gowns were more complicated and would require help to get into. The maid appeared quickly, seemingly surprised by the summons. “Help me into this gown, Sally,” she said kindly. “And find my walking boots. I intend to take a stroll before breaking my fast.”

“C-certainly, mistress,” Sally stuttered. “Are you sure you want this gown?”

Elizabeth turned and frowned at the maid. “Is there anything wrong with it?” she asked, confused. It was a perfectly suitable gown., not overly adorned with no holes or torn hem.

Sally looked nervously away. “It is very different from what you usually prefer, mistress,” she said hesitantly. “You usually favor one of these for mornings.” The maid removed three gowns from the closet and Elizabeth grimaced in distaste. All three gowns were dripping with lace and ribbons. The colors flattered Mrs. Bennet’s complexion, but the over adornment hid her mother’s handsome figure, lovely even after having five children. Except for her stomach, Elizabeth thought, placing an unconscious hand there as she examined the gowns.

“No, the blue will do fine. And I believe I shall have you alter those for use later this week. Let me see. You can take off all the lace but what is at the neck. The ribbons at the sleeves and the hem are enough. On this one, I want all the lace gone. The embroidery on the bodice will suffice. When you have completed those, we can move on to the others.” She may have to look like Mrs. Bennet, but she did not have to dress in the same manner her mother preferred.

“Very well, madam.” Sally draped the gowns over a chair and moved to help Elizabeth disrobe. Off came the robe and the lacey night gown and after her ablutions, she donned a clean chemise. Sally assisted with her stays before slipping the blue gown over her head. Mama preferred an older style of gown with a lower waistline. Elizabeth thought the silhouette flattered the figure very well when not smothered by excessive adornment. Yes, this gown would do nicely for now.

She sat at her mother’s dressing table and allowed Sally to arrange her hair. “No, that is far too elaborate for the day!” she protested as the maid attempted to style her locks in an unsuitable way. “Style it in a chignon.” Sally looked even more perplexed as she did as she was told. The finished product made Elizabeth’s reflection—her mother’s face—look elegant and refined…and sensible. Mrs. Bennet had always been a handsome woman, though her erratic nerves and poor choices in attire often drowned out her beauty.

“That will be all,” she told the maid. “Thank you, Sally.” The girl curtsied and gathered the gowns set aside for alteration before hurrying from the room. Elizabeth found her mother’s walking boots and put them on. It was difficult bending over and tying the laces, but at last she succeeded and made her way out of her bedroom. She went downstairs and secured herself a scone from the sideboard before donning her cloak and bonnet and setting out for a leisurely stroll.

Elizabeth soon learned that her mother’s stamina did not equal her own in any way, and she was compelled to slow her pace even further. A walk to Oakham Mount seemed out of the question, and so she stayed close to home, walking the paths around Longbourn for a half an hour before returning to the house. Mr. Hill took her cloak and bonnet, his normally expressionless face awash with shock. He made no remark, however, and she made her way to the breakfast room. The scone she had consumed on her walk had done little to satisfy the hunger gnawing at her stomach, and so she filled her plate with eggs, bacon, and another scone before settling into her mother’s chair at the foot of the table. No one else had risen yet, and so she tucked into her breakfast, pleased with the surrounding silence.

Thanks for reading! I hope you love the book.