How do you express excitement on a blank white page? Loads of exclamation marks and GIF"s of Charlie Brown's dog Snoopy doing the 'Snoopy Dance'?
That's how I feel about today's guest, Melanie Rachel. She has penned a poignant Austen variation of Pride and Prejudice, where Elizabeth is NOT a Bennet. *gasp* How can that be? Well, dear reader, that's why you have to purchase her book and devour it like my family does turkey dinner at Thanksgiving.
Take it away, Mel...
I Never Knew Myself (INKM) was
spurred by a plot bunny posted by WhimsyMom on A Happy Assembly (AHA) back in
January of 2019. At the time, I was busy editing Headstrong, which is now
published, so I had to put it to the side for a time. Then, in late February of
2019, batensp4 posted her short-ish take on the same plot bunny, also at AHA,
and the ideas started to press so hard that I had to begin writing. I drafted
nearly three-quarters of the book before I absolutely had to stop so I could
make my autumn deadline for Headstrong.
I’m a fan of the “Elizabeth is not a Bennet” trope.
Kidnapping is only one of the branches on that tree, but after reading the plot
bunny, I couldn’t resist. When I sat down to write the set-up, I knew the story
wouldn’t be about the kidnapping itself so much as it would be about the impact
that crime had on everyone in the story, directly or indirectly. I think an
event like this causes a lot of ripples and even some riptides—there would be
so many effects that are invisible on the surface. As a writer, that’s the sort
of thing I like to play with.
Having said that, we have to have the kidnapping
before everything else can be set in motion. So that’s the “almost” first page
I’m excerpting here today. I hope you enjoy it!
I Never Knew Myself is available at Amazon. You can order your copy HERE
First Page:
Maria
Windham shook her head at her husband’s exasperation. “Where is the harm, dearest?”
she asked. “We are in our own home.” She stood and took her husband’s warm
hand. “She has been waiting more than a year to wear it and she was very excited
to show it to Richard and Malcolm.”
Daniel
Windham pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “Ellie already has
too much freedom, Maria. Really, what will you say when she wishes to attend
Eton with her brother? We cannot allow her to parade around the grounds like a
boy.”
“Oh
Daniel,” Maria replied, waving her hand in the air. “Do not fuss. She is four
and, may I remind you, has learnt her stubbornness from her Papa. If you forbid
her to wear it, you will have a battle. If you say nothing, she will change her
clothes without coercion and, I daresay, will do so in less than an hour.”
There was
a chorus of young voices in the entryway, and Windham followed the noise to the
door of the drawing room. His wife’s Fitzwilliam cousins were visiting, along
with their cousin Fitzwilliam Darcy, whose mother had recently entered her
confinement. They were all making ready to head out of doors. There was a great
divide in age between the visitors and his children, but his nephew Malcolm, the
future earl and the eldest at eighteen, did not see it as beneath his dignity
to take his young cousins out to play. In fact, all three boys seemed to enjoy
entertaining the lively Windham brood.
In the
middle of all the excitement was his four-year-old sprite of a daughter,
hopping up and down, dressed in an old, cut-down livery. It was a dark red with
yellow piping and tiny tan breeches. The material from the old livery had
largely been put to other purposes, but Robert had rescued this one from a rag
bag somewhere. He had begged to have it as an army uniform and Maria had
herself cut it down for him. His daughter was now preening in it as though it
was a ballgown. He shook his head at her. Breeches.
“Good day, Miss Ellie Windham,” he
said, sweeping her up into his arms, “or shall we call you Master Eli instead?”
Elizabeth
scowled, her face a black cloud. “Ellie is my name, Papa. I am Ellie.”
“Very well, my girl,” Windham said, placing a
quick kiss on his daughter’s forehead. He gazed at her little face, a tiny copy
of her mother’s. Large dark eyes with long black eyelashes, a small pouty
mouth, cherry red lips, a delicate little nose, long dark curls. He sighed,
knowing it was hopeless. He could deny her nothing.
I am going to fast forward to the end of the first chapter where disaster strikes...
Fitzwilliam
Darcy would never forget the sound of Richard’s shout. It was loud, of course,
and angry—but the fear that ripped through the single word sent a frozen shock
to his very heart. No, Richard cried,
and began to run. No!
He and Malcolm turned back toward
the house to follow Richard’s movement, and then they saw it, too. The nurse
who had been following Elizabeth back to the house was holding young John
tightly. She finally let out a shriek—but it was weak, and the woman seemed
unable to move. Before her, headed their way but slightly to the west, was a
masked man galloping away on a large, powerful black horse. He held the reins
tightly in one hand.
His other arm was wrapped around a
wriggling Ellie Windham.
Malcolm tossed Robert over his
shoulder and raced back to the house as the little boy screamed for his sister.
Richard was chasing the horse down the approach, but it was already past him
and William knew it was hopeless. He whirled around to glare at the woods that
covered this side of the property, remembered there was a stream and a field
beyond. The road wound down for a half-mile before it turned to the south. If
they cut across the field . . .
“Richard!” he yelled and darted
away.
He dodged trees and roots, skidded
down a soft bank and jumped over the stream, then clambered up the other side.
Lungs burning, he burst through the woods into a brown field. He never stopped,
his legs and arms pumping hard, breaths coming in quick gasps. As he reached
the center of the field, heading toward the far end, he caught the rider out of
the corner of his eye. He took a huge breath of air and increased his speed.
His feet hit the hard ground of the
road just as the horse was racing past about six feet away. It shied and reared,
and William took advantage of the moment to stretch his arms out and lunge.
Time slowed as Elizabeth reached her small arms out to him—he nearly had one of
her hands—and then she was jerked away roughly, and William grabbed nothing but
air, bounced off the horse’s rear flank and landed unceremoniously on his back
in the dust of the road.
Before
William could recover, they were out of his reach, hurtling down the road,
leaving him on his knees and gulping for air. He was only barely aware that
Richard had arrived and was bent over at the waist, huffing and puffing next to
him. All he could hear were the horse’s hooves beating against the dry ground
as it drew farther away.
He felt
Richard’s hand on his shoulder and turned his face up to meet his cousin’s
tortured gaze.
He’d been so close. But Ellie was gone.
About the Author:
Melanie Rachel is a university professor and long time Jane Austen fan. She was born in Southern California, but has lived in Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Washington, and Arizona, where she now resides with her family and their freakishly athletic Jack Russell terrier. Her previous novels include Drawing Mr. Darcy: Sketching His Character (Book One) and Drawing Mr. Darcy: A Faithful Portrait (Book Two) as well as Courage Rises and Courage Requires and Headstrong, a modern P&P adaptation trilogy.
Even though I read
I Never Knew Myself on A Happy Assembly, I have already purchased this heartwarming story for my kindle. Can you tell I'm a bit of a fan girl? True dat.
P.S.: Remember to hug someone you love today, because as Mel's story will show, you never know what the future holds.
