Thursday, November 6, 2025

"The Cherry Trees of Rosings" by Morgan Blake ~ Blog Tour ~ Excerpt

Hello, my friends! I'm back again with an excerpt from Morgan Blake's new book, The Cherry Trees of Rosings! This looks like a cute story to me, and after reading the first couple of chapters (see below), I'm ready to read on!




The Cherry Trees of Rosings
by Morgan Blake

Publication Date: Oct 30th, 2025
Pages: 180, Kindle Edition


About The Book 

Pride & Prejudice variation with a slightly paranormal, mainly comic twist! 

When Elizabeth Bennet visits her newly-married friend, Charlotte Collins, at the Hunsford parsonage, she has no idea that Mr. Darcy (he of the arrogant demeanor and perpetual cause of annoyance!) shall turn up to ruin her blissful, idyllic days. 

Only, Mr. Darcy is not himself. 

And then Elizabeth stumbles straight through him one day... like one would an apparition! Goodness gracious! 

 “Mr. Darcy, I do not know what you mean, but I would appreciate it if you would desist from haunting me!” 

 “I apologize, Miss Bennet, for scaring you,” Mr. Darcy said, almost regretfully. 

To solve her haunting problem, Elizabeth must team up with Mr. Darcy to find out what happened to him, and along the way discover that maybe he is not all that he seemed at first. And that maybe...she doesn’t hate him after all. 

 “You wish to write the letter now?” he asked as she moved past him with the candle. 

 “Well, to be honest,” she glanced at him. “I would prefer to sleep. But since you are here, I do not see why not.” 

From the antics of Lady Catherine de Bourgh to the hilarity of Mr. Collins’ advice on staying fit, The Cherry Trees of Rosings shall make you laugh and cry in equal measure. And wonder: Will our favourite couple find their happy ever after? 

Spoiler: Yes, they will! 

This Pride and Prejudice variation features our favourite Regency romance couple from Jane Austen's original classic in a somewhat spooky setup. But fear not, dear readers! This story is not scary in the least. Prepare for a chuckle fest and abundant cups of tea!
 
Excerpt: 

Chapter 1: An Eerie Encounter

Elizabeth Bennet had only been at the Hunsford parsonage for three days when she saw Mr. Darcy under the cherry trees. 

Her heart raced—a quick thump, thump, thump!—as she sped off the walking path to hide behind an ash tree. What was Mr. Darcy doing at Rosings? 

That was when she remembered: he was the esteemed nephew of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. 

Elizabeth had yet to meet the benefactress of her cousin, Mr. Collins—though he spoke of her in practically every sentence, of every conversation, every day. She was certain one would not find a more devout champion of any patron anywhere in the lands if they tried. But she would not have to wait much longer to satisfy her curiosity about the lady. After all, they had received an invitation just that morning to present themselves at Rosings for tea. 

Elizabeth glanced at Mr. Darcy from around the trunk of the ash tree. It appeared she had one less surprise waiting for her in those quarters.

She quickly turned around and started off on a different path for her morning walk.
 
The way she saw it, there was no need to inconvenience the gentleman with frivolous civilities and hellos. He would surely be the last person to welcome such overt social mores.

***

Later that evening…

Elizabeth finished arranging her hair in a simple fashion before stepping out of her room. The rest of the inhabitants of the parsonage were already at the foyer of the cottage.

“Hurry along! Hurry along! Charlotte, Sister Maria, Cousin Elizabeth!” Mr. Collins called. “We must not keep her ladyship waiting!” 

He was sweating profusely. Perhaps at the thought of arriving a few minutes late and having to prostrate at his patroness’ feet. Elizabeth coughed into her hand to cover her smirk as she joined them.

“Oh! What was that?” Mr. Collins asked, turning towards her. “Cousin Elizabeth, are you unwell?” He looked comically red in the face. “Perhaps you should stay behind. Her ladyship has strict rules about bringing disease into the great house!”

Elizabeth barely restrained herself from rolling her eyes. Though she did arch her eyebrows in amusement.

“I think I swallowed some dust. Nothing to worry about surely.”

“Dust? Did you say dust?” Mr. Collins’ eyes widened. He turned to his wife. “Charlotte! You must tell Mrs. Bishop to be more meticulous! I cannot have her humiliating me if her ladyship visits one day and sees such deplorable state of affairs. You know how…”

Elizabeth tuned out her hapless cousin’s words. It was surely an irony that the man had a housekeeper named Bishop—one who had arrived at the recommendation of Lady Catherine herself—while he worshipped nobody higher than his patroness. She only hoped that Charlotte would not be too vexed at her for stirring up Mr. Collins’ humors. 

“Mr. Collins, I assure you,” Charlotte said, with the patience of a saint once her husband stopped to catch his breath. “I have matters well in hand. Perhaps we should start for Rosings if we wish to arrive on time.”

“Yes, yes, at once!”
 
The party soon left the cottage.

…and reached Rosings, right at the dot of four o'clock.

It never failed to amaze Elizabeth how Mr. Collins managed to arrive everywhere at just the precise hour. But she could not ponder on it too long as they found themselves following the butler (rather briskly), as he led them to the west parlour of the house, where her ladyship was to be found. Though, she did notice—along the way—how unerringly accurate Mr. Collins had been in his description of all the interiors. Right down to the number of stained glass arches above every window set!

“And there, you see, right beside the doors are the prized suits of armour that were gifted to Sir Lewis de Bourgh during his lifetime. By the Earl of Nottingham, no less!” Mr. Collins announced helpfully. “Her ladyship prefers the light in this particular parlour at this time of the day. But not when her gout is acting up.” 

A steady stream of commentary on such matters had accompanied them all the way from the gates of the parsonage. And it did not appear Mr. Collins would stop anytime soon.
 
Elizabeth eyed the armours. They were polished to a shine and clearly well-maintained. So much that she wondered if they might spring to life any moment. But her attention was soon drawn away. 

Because, just then, the butler pushed open the grand doors of the parlour and held up a hand for them to wait.
 
He walked in. Nose in the air.
 
“Mr. Collins and Mrs. Collins are here, your ladyship,” he announced. “As are Mr. Collins’ two relatives.”

Elizabeth felt her eyebrows arch at the excessive ceremony. Then she wondered if she would find Mr. Darcy inside, sitting beside his aunt, and possibly his cousin. All their noses high in the air. Collective disdain palpable at the substandard guests about to enter their inner sanctum.
 
Her lips twitched into a grin.

“Yes, send them in!” A loud—slightly shrill but decisive—voice boomed out from within the parlour. 

It startled Maria Lucas. Enough that she clutched at Charlotte’s arm. But there was no time to offer any reassurances.

They were now very much within the lioness’ den. 


Chapter 2: No Green Beans


“Mr. Collins, you know how I despise green beans!”
 
Lady Catherine’s brows drew down with annoyance as she looked over the tiny list Charlotte had handed her a few moments ago. It was about the gift baskets the Collinses were tasked with distributing for Easter; one of the yearly tasks of the parsonage.
 
“You shall not present that vegetable to the congregation,” she emphasized, mouth twisting into a moue of distaste.
 
Mr. Collins nodded his head vigorously. “Indeed, your ladyship.”
 
“Potatoes will do very well. Very well, indeed…”

More head nodding from her cousin.
 
Elizabeth held back a chuckle as the spectacle unfolded before her.
 
She had been somewhat right in her estimation of Lady Catherine from Mr. Collins’ extensive effusions. But once the introductions were made, she was pleasantly surprised to find that the great lady was even more ridiculous than she had imagined. Her father would be dearly entertained by such human folly once she wrote to him.
 
“Potatoes are vegetables for the hard-working,” Lady Catherine continued sagely. Then she picked up a cream tart from the platter before her and bit into it.
 
“You are quite right, your ladyship, as always,” Mr. Collins said. “I merely wished to place the beans in the baskets for the sick—”

“You should speak on the virtues of potatoes in your sermon, Mr. Collins,” the lady said, dusting off the crumbs from her fingers before fixing a glare on her parson. “Remind them of their good fortune and the evils of laziness.”
 
Elizabeth discreetly watched as a stray crumb held on to dear life against the whiskered mole to the side of Lady Catherine’s mouth. The one to the left of her beaked nose.
 
“Mrs. Collins, you may ask Mrs. Stone to give you some of the dried orange peels she is making with Jenkinson. A little bit of colour will not be unpious in an Easter basket. Mr. Collins, you must remind the congregation to keep their homes clean and take baths regularly…”

Yes, Elizabeth would have to write to her father soon.

But there was one thing that surprised her greatly that evening.
 
Mr. Darcy never appeared.

Not once.
 
Nor did his aunt mention him outside of one lengthy diatribe on how he and Miss Anne de Bourgh, Lady Catherine’s daughter, were made for each other. And that he needed to hurry up and do his duty by his family by marrying her.
 
It confused and perturbed Elizabeth.
 
Did the man consider himself so above them that he could not be bothered to join them for tea? 

Or… was she mistaken about who she had seen earlier that day?

***

The next morning, when Elizabeth neared her favourite walking path, she was startled to see Mr. Darcy under the cherry trees once more.
 
The blossoms were gently floating around him, falling out of the white- and pink-hued boughs. There was a crisp breeze blowing through the trees. It was a vision of peace and tranquility.
 
Elizabeth stood there for a moment, and simply gazed at him.
  
No one could deny that Mr. Darcy was an exceedingly handsome man. And standing where she was, she could almost feel her heart softening at the sight.
 
That was… until she remembered his odious behavior in Meryton and what he had said about her on their very first meeting. A familiar grimace replaced the smile she had not realized had appeared on her lips. Elizabeth straightened her shoulders and approached him.
 
“Hello, Mr. Darcy!” she called, as she neared. “How are you doing on this fine day?”

The man seemed to jolt into awareness at her voice.
 
He turned, fixing her with a gaze of such intensity that she took an unconscious step back.

“Miss Elizabeth,” he said. Then he peered at her in confusion.
 
“I am visiting Mr. Collins and his wife at the parsonage,” she offered helpfully. “You may know the new Mrs. Collins as Charlotte Lucas from when you were last in Meryton.”

Mr. Darcy did not reply.
 
When the silence became awkward and he continued to stare at her oddly, Elizabeth asked, “Did you only just arrive at Rosings?”

The confused look on Mr. Darcy’s face intensified.
 
“Rosings?”

Elizabeth tipped her head to one side. She did not believe she had ever been in an interaction as strange as the one she was in right then.
  
“Yes. We had tea there yesterday.” A frown touched her brows. 

“Perhaps you heard about it from your aunt?”

Mr. Darcy’s unceasing stare was beginning to disconcert her. Elizabeth felt a strange coldness tip-tap down her spine. She took another step back.

“Right, well… I shall leave you to it,” she said. She gestured at the blooming cherry trees around them. “Good day, Mr. Darcy!”

She practically fled the scene. 






About the Author

Morgan Blake writes regency romance novels and Austenesque variations of Pride & Prejudice that are sometimes steamy, sometimes not. Satire is the name of the game and happy ever afters the goal!

Morgan loves exploring themes of personal identity, inner strength, social discourse, and hope alongside enduring love in her stories.

She also believes that strong heroes and heroines are not enough to make a tale worth telling. They need a supporting cast of good and not-so-good characters that add more punch and vibrancy... and some dramatic ridiculousness!

Morgan is a cat friend, tropical girl who prefers winter clothes, perennial fantasy/scifi/historical fiction nerd, and a night owl.


Connect with Morgan



Book Links

Amazon US (paid link) • Books2Read (universal link)
Add to Goodreads

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!


Thank you, Morgan, for stopping by today! Fantastic excerpt! I enjoyed it so much! Congratulations on the release of The Cherry Trees of Rosing!

So friends, what are your thoughts? Did that excerpt tempt you also? Let us know in the comments below! 

Wednesday, October 22, 2025

A Very Fine Place by Julia Winter ~ Blog Tour ~ Deleted Scene!

Hello, friends! Today, I have a deleted scene to share with you from A Very Fine Place by Julia Winter!



 


A Very Fine Place
by Julia Winter

Expected eBook Publication Date: October 17, 2015
Pages: 387, Kindle Edition
Category: P&P variation, Regency romance.
Publisher: Glass Hat Press © 2025
Editor: Megan Reddaway


About The Book

“Once may be chance. Twice may be ill luck. But thrice? Thrice, lad, is malice.” 

      1811. Calcutta. Fitzwilliam Darcy of His Majesty’s War and Colonial Office is stewing in the humid heat, when word comes that his father is dead. He must return to England immediately to take up his inheritance.
 
     Pemberley.
 
     The great house in Derbyshire that has never been his home. Instead, it’s home to the stepmother and half-siblings, Hugh and Georgiana, whom he barely knows.
 
     Pemberley is his now, but an atmosphere of resentment and anger threads through every room. He isn’t welcome. His stepmother is cool towards him, Hugh hates ‘the usurper’… and when a series of incidents threaten Darcy’s life, the only people he can trust are John Reid, his right-hand man throughout his career; Charles Bingley, his aide in India; George Wickham, his cousin and Pemberley’s steward; and Elizabeth Bennet, his stepmother’s penniless niece.
 
     Who is trying to kill him? Will the visit of the Bingley family frighten off the enemy, or just provide more opportunities to get rid of the new master of Pemberley? Most of all, can Darcy and Elizabeth come to an understanding that will, finally, make Pemberley feel like home? 

     (NB British spelling, punctuation and grammar throughout).

Cover: Detail from a portrait by Sir Thomas Lawrence of Mrs Charles Fraser, 1817 (Philadelphia Museum of Art).  

A Deleted Scene

It’s a sad truth that not everything makes it into the final version. Sometimes a poor author has to be ruthless in cutting out scenes that, while they were fun to write, don’t advance the plot or show the characters’ development.

In this scene, set just before Darcy, the Bingleys, Jane and Lizzy go to Buxton to attend a concert and an assembly, Lydia and Elizabeth have a little difference of opinion. It was cut because Lydia’s eventual fate took a different turn than I originally planned, so I offer it up here because I rather like this Lydia and it was a shame to have to cut her out.

     “I do not in the least understand why you care about some woman warbling in Italian,” Lydia said from the comfort of Elizabeth’s bed, where she was sprawled amongst the pillows while Elizabeth packed for Buxton.
     Kitty and Georgiana were with the art master, and since Lydia had no talent in that direction she had decided to utilise what talents she did have. Skilled with her needle and having an eye for colour, she was fond of going through her sisters’ wardrobes and bullying them into refreshing their clothing.
     Now she offered languid approbation for one of Elizabeth’s evening dresses, and added “I do wish I could go to the assembly, though! I think it very unfair that Georgiana is allowed to attend. She is not out either.”
     “She will not be permitted to dance, but will sit with Aunt Darcy.” Elizabeth smiled at her youngest sister. “I know it is hard to wait, Lyddy. But we will do the best we can for you when it is your time. Then, when we attend an assembly, you may dance every set.”
     “George said he would dance my first dances with me. I hope he will not forget.” Lydia bounced up from the bed as the maid brought the emerald green ball gown from the wardrobe. “Oh, Lizzy! Is that the silk Mr Darcy gave you? The… what was the word… the sarry he brought from India?”
     “Sari. Yes.”
     “It is very striking, and a perfect shade for you. I saw the ones he gave Georgiana, of course, but those are so milk-and-water compared to this. Not in the least out of the way. They will not draw the eye.”
     “He was careful to choose colours for her that suited her age.”
     “They would not suit me.” Lydia touched the silk carefully, running a fingertip over the metallic gold braid. “This would.”
     “Perhaps you will inherit it one day, and can make it over.” Elizabeth glanced at the maid and, with a smile, sent her to assist Jane. They would leave for Buxton immediately after the noon meal.
     She folded the green silk carefully, Lydia unaccustomedly eager to proffer assistance, and between them they laid the gown into the small trunk Elizabeth was taking with her, as reverent as a pair of Vestals handling a relic.
     Lydia patted the silk and sighed. “So lovely. What colour is Jane’s?”
     “Blue and silver.”
     “Oh, perfect.” Lydia gave her a complicit little smile. “You will both quite outshine Miss Bingley.”
     Although Lydia had not seen the woman since the day of the Bingleys’ arrival, she had evidently no great veneration for the Darcys’ guest. Not that Elizabeth blamed her. That Miss Bingley considered herself above the Bennets was obvious, purely on the grounds of having a large dowry and being educated at a ladies’ seminary. Elizabeth had never told her youngest sisters of overhearing the woman at dinner the night of the Bingleys’ arrival, putting down the girls as ‘lowly estate children’ or something of the kind, but she had heard it and it had rankled. Dreadful woman! Elizabeth had been glad there was little opportunity for the paths of the schoolroom and the Bingleys to cross. She had little faith in Lydia’s ability to restrain herself if subjected to such barbs.
     It seemed her clever little sister had weighed up Miss Bingley on that first encounter, for she now smiled up at Elizabeth from where she knelt before the trunk. “You are much prettier than she is, Lizzy. In that dress, you will shine.” She closed the lid and locked it, handing Elizabeth the key. “Of course, I am prettier than you, and livelier. In that dress, I would be magnificent.”
     “You are incorrigible.”
     “If I knew what it meant, I would likely agree.” Lydia sat back on her heels and regarded her, head tilted to one side. “Lizzy, have you seen George today?”
     Elizabeth looked away, searching for her reticule to stow the key away safely. “Ah… no. Not for two days now. He has been busy, I expect. He is looking for an estate for Mr Bingley to lease.”
     “He looks very sad, and said he was no longer going to Buxton with you. Is it because of old Mr Wickham, do you think? What a pity! In your place, I would be cross. Who will you dance the first set with, if not George?”
     “I do not know.” She had already tucked several linen handkerchiefs into the trunk, but Elizabeth felt compelled to turn her back on Lydia to search out more in a drawer, intending to stuff them into her reticule along with the trunk key. “I shall have to hope some other gentleman will step into the breach.”
     “In your place, I would show more feeling.” Lydia flung an arm towards the window and the view of the parkland stretching up to the distant hills. “After all, what other opportunity is there for you here, if not George? We are abandoned here in this remote place, and it is not as though we are overrun with likely prospects for husbands! Do you see a line of beaus riding up to claim us?” She snorted, and sighed again. “Jane might get this Mr Bingley, I suppose. What do you think?”
     “That it is for Jane to decide her happiness. Although,”—and here Elizabeth gave her most testing little sister a smile—“I do not think his sisters even close to being the equal of mine. In Jane’s place, I would hope he marries off one as quickly as may be, and encourages the other to return to her husband’s estate.”
     “Lord, yes! I would not like to live with such Friday-faced creatures. I hope they have the lives they deserve.” Lydia frowned. “And speaking of sad faces, I have never seen George so despondent. He usually cheers me, you know, when I am cross about living in such an out-of-the-way place, or not being allowed to dance at assemblies. Today, he barely looked up from his ledgers and had almost nothing to say to me.”
     Silence.
     “Lizzy. What did you do, Lizzy?”
     “Nothing. I did nothing. Why do you suppose it is anything to do with me?”
     “Because George thinks everything is to do with you, you ninny. You must know that.” Lydia scrambled to her feet. Good lord, but she was too sharp to bear. “You have been quiet too, now I think on it. What have you done, Lizzy?”
     “I have nothing to say. Please do not press me on this. It is no one’s business but my own.”
     “It is my business if you have hurt George. Do you not love him, Lizzy?”
     Silence.
     “How can you not?” Lydia’s tone was hard now. Condemning. Angry. “I would have him in an instant, and not because there are so few opportunities for us. George is marvellous, and you are blind if you cannot see it! You must make it right with him. You must!”
     “I will not discuss this with you.”
     “I will tell Mamma. She will never believe you have turned off any suitor, much less George! She will take to her bed for a week if you upset her like this.”
     “Mamma has nothing to say to the matter, any more than do you.”
     “How selfish and unfeeling you are.” Lydia sneered. She did it rather well. “George will not regret you long. How could he, knowing you have no heart?”
     The door slammed behind her with such force, it rocked on its hinges.

About the Author

Once Julia was a communications specialist working with several UK government departments. These days she's thankfully free of all that, and writing full time. She lives in the depths of the Nottinghamshire countryside with her husband and Mavis, a Yorkie-Bichon cross with a bark several times bigger than she is.

Contact Julia

 Website  |  Bluesky  |  Facebook 

Email: juliawinterfiction@gmail.com

Book Links

Amazon US *(paid link) • Amazon UK

Add to Goodreads

* 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!

Thank you, Julia, for stopping by today, and congratulations on the release of A Very Fine Place!

Oh my, Lydia is always a great source of entertainment! Haha! Hmmm...Elizabeth must know something about George that Lydia doesn't! 😉  Please, leave a comment with your thoughts! 


Monday, September 22, 2025

Captain Wentworth ... In His Own Words by Shannon Winslow ~ Blog Tour ~ Spotlight & Excerpt!

Hello, my friends! It's been almost a year since I posted! Time flies, doesn't it? I'm back to share Shannon Winslow's newest book, Captain Wentworth ... In His Own Words. This is the fourth book in her In His Own Words series.





Captain Wentworth 
... in his own words
by Shannon Winslow

Publication Date: Sept. 18th, 2025
Pages: 320, Kindle Edition

Book Blurb:  Captain Wentworth has a lot of explaining to do! Why did he fly off in such an unreasonable rage when Anne tried to put their engagement on hold? And why didn’t he come back to try her again as soon as he was more financially secure? So much time wasted! What about his bad behavior when they met again years later – flirting with the Musgrove girls right in front of Anne? Was that really necessary? 

Find the answers in Captain Wentworth in His Own Words. Catch a glimpse of his difficult childhood, and learn how he ended up in the Navy so young. Witness his first meeting with Anne, their falling in love, and tragic parting. Sail along on his daring adventures at sea. Before he meets Anne again, Captain Wentworth has travelled the globe. He’s risen to riches and respect. Yet, he’s still missing the one thing needed to crown all his other success: the woman he’s never stopped loving. 

This is not a variation from but a supplement to the original story of Persuasion, chronicled in Wentworth’s point of view. It’s a behind-the-scenes look at the things Jane Austen didn’t tell us about one of her most iconic heroes.
 
Excerpt

Might it have been better had I simply refused to go to the wedding that day? I have asked myself that question a thousand times, for that is where I met Anne Elliot. Had I not gone, our paths would in all probability never have crossed. I would have left Somersetshire and returned to sea with my heart and my confidence still intact, and with my conscience untroubled as well. Despite how things have turned out, however, to wish now that we had never met seems monstrous, as if I contemplated cancelling the finest woman I have ever known out of existence… out of my existence at least. How could I do that when I still love her?

That is the unhappy fact of the matter, which I lately have been forced to concede; I am still in love with Anne Elliot… even after the insult of her rejection, even after the devastating blow to my pride, and even after the more than eight years and a half of our separation following. One would think the flame would have guttered and died long ago with nothing to fuel it any longer. I meant for it to do so; I meant that I should forget Anne entirely. I convinced myself that I had, nearly, and that it would be safe to see her once again.

I was wrong. One look at her at Uppercross, and, against my will, the buried sparks immediately began to smolder again.

And to think it all started with a simple decision to attend a wedding. Once there, the introduction to Anne Elliot could hardly have been avoided. It fell quite literally straight into my hands.



About the Author


Shannon Winslow approaches writing JAFF a little differently, adding onto rather than varying from canon, giving us prequel, sequel, and supplemental views of favorite characters. Shannon, who has authored eleven Austenesque novels so far, lives with her husband in the log home they built in the countryside south of Seattle, where she writes and paints in her studio facing Mt. Rainier. Visit her at her website/blog and follow her on Facebook.



Book 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!



Thank you so much for including me in your blog tour, Shannon! And congratulations on your new book! 



I, for one, am glad Wentworth went to that wedding and met Anne Elliot! What are your thoughts?  Please feel free to leave a comment, and thanks for stopping by!

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...