Pages

Tuesday, June 18, 2024

"Darcy's Struggle" by Kelly Dean Jolley ~ Blog Tour ~ Excerpt & Giveaway!

Hello, my friends! I'm excited to have Kelly Dean Jolley visiting today with an excerpt from his new book, Darcy's Struggle! Plus, Meryton Press is giving away an eCopy of the book. Details are at the bottom of the page.




Darcy’s Struggle
by Kelly Dean Jolley


Blurb 

Brilliant, sensitive, and private, Fitzwilliam Darcy finds himself at the Meryton Assembly, consciously troubled by recent events in Ramsgate and unconsciously troubled by himself.  He insults Elizabeth Bennet, at whom he has only glanced. 

It is not until she appears at Netherfield—full of life, skirted in mud, and eager to attend to her sick sister—that Darcy truly looks at her. When he does, he knows she is the woman he has been searching for, the elusive her of his heart. He falls for her completely…despite her apparent unsuitability to be the Mistress of Pemberley and his half-hearted efforts to convince himself he can live without her. 

Shortly before Elizabeth leaves Netherfield, Darcy apologizes for what he said at the Assembly. Will that apology and the depth of his sudden but durable feelings give him hope with Elizabeth? Might George Wickham’s arrival frustrate his hopes, especially after Darcy blunders into a marriage proposal to Elizabeth?  

Romantic, reflective, and ironic, this is a story told from Darcy’s point of view, a story of the struggle from intellect to heart—a deliberate character study and a delicate love story. 
 
Excerpt

Darcy’s knock at Richard's door received a hearty "Enter!"

     He did and found Richard already changed. Darcy envied him in small ways—particularly his readiness, his quickness, the product of a soldier's life. The lack of formality. It showed not only in the man’s ability to doff and don clothes but also in his comfort in circumstances high and low, his adaptability. He was a soldier, dutiful, a man of rectitude, but even Wickham would not claim Richard had a stick up his bum.

     Richard carried his territory with him; he belonged everywhere.

     Darcy, by contrast, was comfortable only in few places, around few people. Luckily, one of them was Richard. They jostled each other, sometimes hard, but they were as close as brothers.

     Richard smirked at him. "So, it finally happened—a woman mounted up to that tiny window at the top of that tall, tall tower, and found you there, entangled in yourself, waiting to be rescued."

     Darcy could not help it—he barked a loud laugh. Richard! "Am I the damsel in distress?"

"I fear it has long been so. You have been under a curse. ‘The fathers have eaten sour grapes, and the children's teeth are set on edge.’”

     The quotation made Darcy think of his parents again and their mismanagement of their children's education.

     "Why is everyone quoting scripture to me lately? Bingley's been doing it!"

     "Eh? Returning the favor. And by the way, where is your hypochondriac, lovesick friend?"

     "Genuinely lovesick this time, I judge. He entered into a courtship on Friday with the sister, Jane Bennet, of my betrothed. But you've missed him today. He must have passed you on the road; he's gone to London to prepare for the wedding…and to attend to errands."

     "And where is Bingley’s sister—that is, his other sister, the one who intends to give you an heir and a spare before she begins to conduct personal virility tests with London's fashionable male population."

     "Richard! She is, well…she is insincere—but that?" He was never quite prepared for his cousin’s frankness, although he knew to expect it.

     "I do admire you, Darcy, but you are sometimes an imbecile. That woman does not want you, she wants Pemberley. But she does have wants, other wants, itches, that she's left unattended, and she will eventually scratch them…on someone."



About the Author

     Kelly Dean Jolley, a professor at Auburn University, has penned several novels. His first, Big Swamp, is a detective novel, which he followed with a Christmas mystery, The Vanishing Woman. He also composed a book of poetry, Stony Lonesome.
 
       Using the pseudonym Newton Priors, he released three additional novels: Balter (A Retelling of Pride and Prejudice), Tides of Bath (A Retelling of Persuasion), and a Western, Heaven and Hell: A Romance

       Professor Jolley has made contributions to many academic publications as well. He is the author of The Concept 'Horse' Paradox and Wittgensteinian Conceptual Investigations, the editor of Wittgenstein: Key Concepts, and has published over forty academic articles. He is a past Alumni Professor and currently the Goodwin-Philpott Endowed Chair in Religion and Professor of Philosophy. 


Connect with Kelly Dean Jolley


Purchase Link for Darcy's Struggle


FTC Disclaimer: Link to Amazon US. I am an Amazon Associate. I will receive a small commission, at no cost to you,  if you purchase a book through the link provided. Thanks!

Other Meryton Press Books by Kelly Dean Jolley

Big Swamp - Amazon US (paid link)
The Vanishing WomanAmazon US  (paid link)

Coming soon from Kelly Dean Jolley and Meryton Press

Pride, Prejudice, and Pretense (A spy novel, a romance, and a character study)


* * * GIVEAWAY * * *

It's giveaway time! Meryton Press is giving away an eBook of Darcy's Struggle to one of my lucky readers! To enter, leave a comment below with a way to contact you, or check back here, where I will announce the winner.


  • One person will win an e-copy of Darcy's Struggle.
  • Winner will be randomly picked.
  • To enter the giveaway, leave a comment below and provide a way of contacting you, or check back for the winner announcement.
  • Open internationally.
  • The last day to enter the giveaway is June 25th, 2024, by the end of the day.
Good luck!


Many thanks to Kelly Dean Jolley for stopping by and sharing an excerpt with us! Congratulations on the release of Darcy's Struggle.

Thanks to Meryton Press for the giveaway, and a big thanks to Janet Taylor @ More Agreeably Engaged for organizing and including me in this blog tour!


I hope you enjoyed the excerpt as much as I did! I can tell I will love this Colonel Fitzwilliam, my favorite secondary character! Let me know your thoughts in the comments! 

Monday, June 10, 2024

"What Ought to Have Been" by MJ Stratton ~ Blog Tour, Excerpt, & Giveaway!

Hello, my friends! Today, the lovely MJ Stratton is visiting with us! She is sharing an excerpt and is giving away a copy of her new book, What Ought to Have Been

Details for the giveaway are at the bottom of the page.




What Ought to Have Been
A Sense and Sensibility Variation
by MJ Stratton


Book Blurb

Retribution belongs to God, and I am ill-equipped to carry it out in His place. ~Elinor Dashwood 

     Before leaving Norland forever, Elinor Dashwood forms an attachment to Edward Ferrars. Her tender regard remains constant when the four Dashwood ladies remove to Devonshire, taking up residence at Barton Cottage. Elinor’s hopes for the future are shattered when she unwillingly becomes the confidante of Lucy Steele, learning that Lucy has been betrothed to Edward for four years.

     However, Lucy fails to secure Elinor’s vow of secrecy. When Marianne finds Elinor in her misery, the sisters share confidences, leading Marianne to compare Edward’s honorable conduct with that of John Willoughby. Her musings lead to some startling revelations, igniting a spark of defiance within her. 

     Determined to right the wrongs done to her and her beloved family, Marianne takes matters into her own hands. While Elinor may be ill-equipped to exact God’s retribution, Marianne is not. Armed with determination and resolve, Marianne Dashwood sets out to achieve her aims by any means necessary. But can she complete her journey without losing herself in the process? 

     Told from both Marianne and Elinor’s points of view, What Ought to Have Been is a Sense and Sensibility variation that ensures all the story’s villains receive their just desserts.
 
Excerpt: Poor Elinor! After learning of Edward’s engagement, she seeks privacy to grieve.

Elinor sat on the bed and pulled open the drawer of the small bedside table. She pulled out a thick sheaf of papers that were carefully stored inside an oiled cloth. She had sewn pockets into the pouch to keep her drawings from being damaged. Opening it, she leafed through the sketches until she found the one she sought.
 
Edward’s face smiled up at her, and her heart fluttered. She cherished this picture, for it captured his expressive eyes and the true character that hid beneath his usual reserve. Yet now, Elinor wanted to tear it up and burn the pieces, so intense was the anguish that now overwhelmed her. Typically not prone to overt displays of emotion, she longed to scream out the injustice that had been done to her. 

She understood that Mrs. Ferrars held stringent expectations for her son's choice of a wife—expectations that Elinor markedly did not meet. And yet, she had dared to hope that someday he would be free to claim her hand if he resolved to make his own way in the world. Now that hope was gone; even if Edward were free of his mother’s requirements, he would still not be able to marry her. Yes, he was even more out of reach than she had realized.

Tears began to fall, and Elinor did nothing to stop them. She buried her face in her pillow, weeping quietly, the picture of Edward clutched tightly in her fist. When her tears finally subsided, she sat up and smoothed the wrinkled paper. She then slid the sketch back into the pouch, placing it behind all the others where she would not readily come across it, and then returned the pouch to the drawer. 

Her room was bitterly cold, as the fire would not be lit until closer to bedtime to save fuel. Elinor welcomed the frigid air, allowing it to seep into her bones, willing it to numb the pain. When her mother called her for dinner, she felt more composed and joined her family directly.

       Marianne sat silently at the table, as had been her habit since John Willoughby had departed Devonshire. Though her sister had not spoken of it, Elinor assumed that she and the gentleman had formed an understanding before his departure. Charlotte Palmer, Mrs. Jennings’s daughter, had brought news from London that it was being said around Town an engagement was indeed in place; Marianne had not confirmed it was so, at least not to Elinor.

Elinor’s relationship with Marianne had been strained since their father’s death. The sisters were very different in manner and temperament. Where Elinor was quiet and strived to maintain propriety in all circumstances, Marianne was not as circumspect; her passion and zeal for life often overrode good sense, and she had some strange ideas about love. Marianne’s heart was good, though, and she did not love by halves.
 
Elinor’s sister had been pale and quiet for some time. After Mr. Willoughby’s departure, she had wept for days, inconsolable by anything or anyone. Now, her grief was melancholic; she stared through the window at nothing for hours or played sad songs on the Middleton’s pianoforte. Marianne took long, solitary walks and came back looking wind-chapped and ill. Elinor thought she looked frail, and her dresses hung on her frame, a testament to her depressed spirits.

Elinor had disdained her sister’s overt behavior these last weeks, but now after her own trying afternoon, she thought she understood Marianne better. It took all her will to keep her emotions tightly contained, and she wished she could let herself be more like Marianne—that she might cry and wail, and wander about morosely in her heartbreak. But no, she was the reasonable, responsible sister, and falling to pieces before her family would do nothing to aid in her heartache.

After dinner, the family gathered in the small parlor just off the hall. A large fireplace warmed the room, and they settled around it, reading books, mending, or working on their embroidery. Marianne stared listlessly into the blaze, her hands idle in her lap, and Elinor felt irrational anger rising in her chest at her sister’s behavior. No such luxury would be given to Elinor! But was it truly anger, or was it jealousy? She was uncertain.
 
       She forcefully stabbed the needle into the handkerchief she was embroidering, yelping as the point pricked her finger. She stuck the wounded finger into her mouth. Mrs. Dashwood eyed her curiously, but Elinor ignored her, returning her attention to the fabric in her hand. Blessedly, her mother did not remark on Elinor’s uncharacteristic carelessness and simply returned to helping Margaret with the stitch she was learning.

Elinor glanced down at the fabric and was relieved that no blood had stained the white cloth. It was sure to be a lovely handkerchief when it was finished, but Elinor suddenly found herself too restless to focus on the fancy work. She set it aside and pulled a novel out of her workbasket. Opening it, she attempted to read.

She was grateful when it was finally time to retire. Marianne followed her up the stairs like a wraith—silent and slow. Their bedchamber was warmer than it had been earlier, but barely so. The coals in the fireplace burned low, a reminder of their limited resources. Elinor knew that she and Marianne would have to manage with what little they had, for their funds were in short supply and fuel was deemed a luxury.

They readied for bed in haste; the numbness of a broken heart did not shield from the cold. With woolen socks on their feet and dressing gowns worn over their night clothes, she and Marianne huddled under their covers, waiting for their shared body heat to warm them.

Marianne drifted off quickly, leaving Elinor alone in the dark, staring into the blackness and reliving the terrible recitation of Miss Lucy from earlier that day. The equanimity she had strived for earlier shattered, and tears once began to fall onto her pillow once more.
 
She began to better understand Marianne’s despondency at being separated from Mr. Willoughby. How fortunate her sister was to have secured her lasting happiness! Oh, how Elinor envied her.


About the Author

MJ Stratton is a long-time lover of Jane Austen and her works, having been introduced to Pride and Prejudice by a much-beloved aunt at the age of sixteen. The subsequent discovery of Austenesque fiction sealed her fate. After beta reading and editing for others for nearly a decade, MJ started publishing her own work in 2022. MJ balances being a wife and mother with writing, gardening, sewing, and many other favorite pastimes. She lives with her husband and four children in the small, rural town where she grew up.


Purchase Links

Amazon (paid link)
Add to Goodreads.

FTC Disclaimer: Link to Amazon. I am an Amazon Associate. I will receive a small commission if you purchase a book through the link provided. Thanks!



* * * GIVEAWAY * * *


It's giveaway time! As part of this book tour, MJ Stratton is giving away an eCopy of the book What Ought to Have Been! Enter through the Rafflecopter below! 


a Rafflecopter giveaway


Good luck!

Many thanks to MJ Stratton for stopping by today!


Oh my, poor Elinor! But I'm so glad that Elinor isn't sworn to secrecy to Lucy and can confide in Marianne in this variation. I'm so curious how this will play out! How about you? What do you think? Let me know in the comments below!


Friday, June 7, 2024

"To Pledge Allegiance" by Robert W. Smith ~ Excerpt

Hello there, my friends! I've been missing for a while again, but I have a few upcoming posts, so stay tuned for that.

Today, I'm thrilled to bring you an excerpt from To Pledge Allegiance by Robert W. Smith. 



 

To Pledge Allegiance
A World War I 
Windy City Novel
by Robert W. Smith

Book Blurb:

Assassination, espionage, war, and vigilante violence. 

Welcome to Chicago in 1917.

Within this caldron of intrigue and deceit, live nearly half a million Irish and German American immigrants, among them Irish-born lawyer Conor Dolan and his wife Maureen. The Dolans are among thousands of immigrants marked as “hyphenated Americans,” their reluctance to support the war cry branding them “enemy aliens.” 

When one of the legendary Chicago Newsboys takes a lethal bullet from a German Luger during a warehouse break-in, his mysterious companion escapes, and Conor is determined to find the killer. He discovers instead a link between the burglary and the murder of a prominent Chicago arms broker with ties to the Allied powers and possibly the mob. Despite warnings from a powerful group of government-backed vigilantes and a suspicious lack of cooperation from the police, Conor presses on at his own peril to root out the boy’s killer. 

Was it a German agent? An Allied agent? The mob? Or maybe even the police themselves by some deceitful plan? The closer he gets to the answer, the greater the danger to those he loves.
 

Excerpt


It was nearly one in the afternoon when the funeral crowd began to trickle into the restaurant. Most had arrived by rail, making the short walk up Wolf Road to the restaurant. MoMo Storino, One-Ear Raimondi, even the recently paroled Irish thug, Lucky O’Leary, like the Litany of the Saints performed live on stage. The politicians in attendance were largely retired and immune to bad publicity. Conor spotted reporters and cops, lots of cops, with no way to distinguish among dirty cops, curious cops, and on-duty cops. A few might have attended only to be certain the gangster was dead.


The drinks were free after one-thirty, and around two o’clock the crowd began to mill upstairs for the luncheon. The meal officially began with Father Militello’s rendition of the Grace, an obligatory act of the Catholic mourners. The old priest’s manufactured tears and fond recollections of “a great and generous” man warranted a Jameson, but Conor decided against it. He was here for a reason. No doubt this cleric would miss his regular cut of the ill-gotten proceeds from the “great man.”


The disgustingly effusive speeches and stories carried beyond the antipasto, the minestrone, three types of pasta, and clear into the tiramisu until, at last, the gathering began to dissipate, and the mourners left or gathered in small groups at the bar. The drinks were still free, but Conor held it at three. He wasn’t here to drink any more than he was here to mourn. 


Viviana came to him at the bar as he’d hoped, where they stood shoulder to shoulder without acknowledging one another. “Water,” she said to the bartender.


Conor didn’t turn to face her. “I need to talk with you.”


“I know,” she replied. “Let’s go outside. They have a few tables. It’s cold so we’ll be alone.”


Conor knew only too well how much she detested her father, at least he thought he did. He struggled to find the appropriate words. Keep it simple, nothing religious or hypocritical. “I’m sorry, Viviana. He was your father.”


“I keep telling myself that.”


“I saw in the papers you were performing in St. Louis when he died.”


She laughed gently. “Are you still stalking me?”


He shrugged. “I like to think I’m not but. . .”


Once outside, she said, “It’s time we talked.” Then she leaned back in the chair. “How would you like to do this? Would you like to ask me questions or should I give it to you all at once?”


“First let me take a guess. You have a three-month-old baby and I’m the father?”


She laughed as a waitress came out the back door. The woman seemed surprised to see them. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t know anyone was out here. Too chilly. I just came out for some air. Can I get you folks something? Open bar closes in fifteen minutes.”


Conor waved her off. “No, thanks. We’re fine.”


Viviana turned back to Conor. “I wish that were the case. It would be simpler. Go ahead. Fire away.”


“This means you know more than you’re telling me.”


“Much more.”


He was afraid to go further down this road. Was he about to learn all the answers? How much did she know? Was she going to say she lied to him? He wondered how ugly this could get and that fact terrified him to his core. Alright, get to the heart of it and find out. “First off, I’d like to know who killed Mumbles.”


“It was my father’s dog, Lucchesi. It had to be. Lucchesi didn’t know my father was helping the Allies. It’s still possible the boy was meant to die from the beginning. But it doesn’t matter and it’s all my fault.”


“I don’t know about that. Remember, your father called the Bureau of Investigation to verify the identity of the agent who approached him with the British. He didn’t exist. Your father might have thought he was in trouble running a rogue operation for the British.”


“I still think Lucchesi was acting alone, as much as I believe my father capable.”


How would Viviana know that? She only knew what her mother told her. And why was it her fault? He tried to prepare himself to be shocked. “Why your fault? And what plan?”


“That’s complicated, but I was telling the truth when I said I didn’t alert the cops.”


She was fumbling. Why? It didn’t matter whether her father ordered the hit or not. He thought briefly about telling her to stop. Did he really need to know more? Mumbles was dead and Ruffulo was involved up to his ears. Now Ruffulo was dead. Game over. But it wasn’t over, not for Conor and not for Mumbles. He had to know for sure, and he had to know everything. Did this woman know the whole story? If so, what is she? Who is she? “I have time. How do you know all this? Does that mean everything else you told me was a lie? Even the personal . . . things?”


“Of course not. I was as honest with you as I could be. It’s a long story.”


“I have time. I could even buy us a drink.”



About the Author



Bob was raised in Chicago, enlisting in the Air Force in 1968. Following four years of service as a Russian Linguist in the Security Service Command, a branch of the NSA, Bob attended DePaul University and The John Marshall Law School. With over thirty years of experience as a criminal defense lawyer in Chicago, Bob brings a lifetime of understanding and experience to his novels. His Running with Cannibals is the Grand Prize winner of the CIBA 2022 Hemingway Award for best 20th-century wartime fiction. 

The author lives in the Chicago area. 



Connect with Robert W. Smith


Website


Buy Links


To Pledge Allegiance (Amazon paid link)


Also, by Robert W. Smith


A Long Way from Clare (Amazon - paid link)




FTC Disclaimer: Link to Amazon. I am an Amazon Associate. I will receive a small commission, at no cost to you,  if you purchase a book through the link provided. Thanks!



Many thanks to Robert W. Smith for stopping by with an excerpt and to Janet @ More Agreeably Engaged for organizing this book tour.



So, friends, what did you think of the excerpt? I'd love to know your thoughts!