Happy almost Thanksgiving, friends! 🦃  I know many of us a thinking about turkeys and Christmas at the moment, but lets bounce back a little bit to vampires real quick! 🧛🏼‍♂️  As you may have seen, author Jayne Bamber has a fang-tastic new release out called NorthFanger – sounds amazing, doesn’t it? What is even better is it is a mash-up Northanger Abbey AND Pride and Prejudice! I mean…c’mon. What more could you want!? Henry Tilney and Mr. Darcy!!!

Jayne is here to share a most tempting excerpt from NorthFanger, we hope you enjoy!

~ Excerpt from NorthFanger ~

Georgiana’s blood stirred and her veins pulsated, but she betrayed nothing more than a tighter grip on her friend’s hand. “George Wickham deserves to suffer a great deal.”

In the thin moonlight Georgiana could clearly see the concern etched in Elizabeth’s face. “Will you tell me more of what he has done to you?”

They had reached the dower house, and Georgiana was obliged to lean against the wall of the house as a dizzying wave of anxiety rippled through her. “I already told you everything I remember.”

“Do you wish to remember the rest?”

Georgiana considered this. “I think so. I desire a better understanding of myself, and I cannot like that there are so many gaps in my memory. I feel as if months of my life were stolen from me by that awful man.”

Elizabeth’s face crumpled into sad compassion, and she stroked Georgiana’s shoulder before leading her into the house. She bolted the door behind them and led Georgiana into the small front parlor. Richard and William had carried her coffin with them and placed it off to one side, and now they were lighting candles at intervals throughout the room. It occurred to Georgiana that she could see perfectly well in the darkness – but human eyes could not.

Elizabeth led her to the sofa, and Georgiana sat down, stilling herself out of habitual obedience and a desire to please her new friend. “I may be able to help you remember a little, to fill in some of the missing pieces,” Elizabeth said. “But I fear you will not like what you recall, and I have no wish to upset you.”

Georgiana looked to her brother and cousin for guidance. Richard still struggled to keep his temper under regulation; he despised what she was, but there was more to his distress. Georgiana leaned toward him and smelled something complicated and dark – he was angry at himself. William was easier to understand, for the bittersweet love and hope she smelled on him were just as plain in his face. He gave her an encouraging nod before shifting his gaze to Elizabeth, his heartbeat growing faster.

“Do what you will, Miss Bennet – I have every faith in you,” he said softly.

A nod from Elizabeth prompted William to slowly move closer, and he gingerly began to unwind the silver from her wrists. It smarted, and Georgiana gritted her teeth, but she kept as still as she could for fear of frightening him. “Thank you, Brother,” she whispered, letting her hand rest on his. To her relief, he did not recoil, but covered her hand with his own.

Elizabeth moved to the other side of the room and retrieved a small velvet bag, while Richard carried over a large bucket of earth. Georgiana began to panic as she saw Elizabeth lay the objects out on a table before them: a dagger, a chalice, and a small bottle of something green and viscous.

William released Georgiana’s hand and began to spread the soil across Georgiana’s chest and shoulders as Elizabeth had done the night before. His attempt at calming Georgiana was not as effective, and a moment later Elizabeth laid her own hands into the dirt on Georgiana’s body, guiding William’s hands into the soothing circular motions that distracted Georgiana from the searing at her wrists and the panic on her breast.

She watched William and Elizabeth, their heads bent together as they applied more earth and practiced the subtle movements. “You need not hesitate or hold back,” Elizabeth said to William. “It is not… a sensual act. It is medicinal.”

Richard drew the curtains closed and stepped closer to observe them, apparently as mesmerized as Georgiana herself. But she knew she was seeing more than her cousin could; a thick cloud of emotion hung in the air, in the small space between William and Elizabeth, and in the haze floated tiny burning embers floating softly on some unseen current. “Like little stars,” Georgiana murmured with a heady laugh.

Elizabeth gave a gentle chuckle. “I think we may safely remove the chains now, sir.”

The visible sparks between her two caretakers faded to a red mist as the silver was removed from Georgiana, and she reached out for them in what she hoped was an innocuous gesture. Again the scars began to fade, and she practiced the breathing technique Elizabeth had shown her. Richard took another step closer and offered a hesitant smile.

Elizabeth drew back and pulled the little table closer. “You will not hurt us, Georgiana – I trust you, dear girl. And I am not going to hurt you.” Even as she spoke, Elizabeth picked up the little dagger. Georgiana flinched, but she could not smell any trace of malice. She watched, mesmerized, as Elizabeth rolled up one of her sleeves and cut her own arm, collecting the blood that spilled out in the chalice she held.

Elizabeth’s heart was racing wildly, and the pain was clearly bothering her, but she squeezed the blood from her pulsing vein until Richard grew agitated and cried, “Enough!”

Georgiana had instinctively leaned forward and licked at her lips; William took both of her hands in his as she fidgeted with the excitement that the smell of fresh blood aroused in her. “I want it.”

“You shall have it in a moment – practice patience, my dear friend.” Elizabeth uncorked the strange bottle and dumped its contents into the chalice, stirring it with her finger. “I have made a decoction of rosemary, sage, and peppermint, which are known to assist with memory.”

She sat down on the floor and offered Georgiana the chalice, and Georgiana gulped down the sweet mixture, her tongue licking every last drop from the vessel. Elizabeth moved to wipe her finger clean, but Georgiana seized her wrist and sucked the blood off of Elizabeth’s finger. Richard pushed between the two women, shoving Georgiana forcibly backward. “Enough,” he said again. “You must not harm her.”

“Calm yourselves,” Elizabeth said, gently pulling Richard away from Georgiana. “She will not hurt me. I trust her, and so, too, must you. We will all remain calm, and therein be perfectly safe.”

“You are mad,” Richard breathed.

William glowered. “Leave, if you do not like it. I trust them both completely.”

Georgiana studied her cousin. She slowly slid out of her chair, her eyes locked on his as he crouched behind Elizabeth. He reeked of anger and confusion, and some little fear. Georgiana desperately wished to prove him wrong, to make him believe in her as William and Elizabeth did. With steady deliberation, she raised her fingertips to his face and inched closer to him, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek before pulling away. “I want to be good,” she whispered.

Richard closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath, his fingers entwining with hers. “So do I.”

William turned his attention to Elizabeth. “We must not let your cut fester – I believe there may be some bandages here somewhere….”

“Would you bring them to me, Mr. Darcy?”

As Elizabeth looked up at William, who had stood to leave the room, Georgiana fell back against the chair behind her, her skirts splaying out on the carpet – she felt as though she had been kicked in the stomach as the force of a memory came back to her.

She was in the carriage again. Wickham was seated across from her, with a woman at his side; the hood of her cloak covered her face – only a wisp of hair glowing red in the moonlight was visible in the shadows. The carriage jolted to a stop and Wickham opened the door. “Do as you like, but remember – you will bring Darcy to me.”

“Bring Darcy to me,” Georgiana muttered. She sprawled backward on the floor, awash with sudden memories. Elizabeth, William, and Richard all huddled around her, offering gentle encouragement as Georgiana began to describe the images that flashed before her eyes. Foremost among them was a dark cellar, where Wickham would visit her every night, his eyes glowing red. At first he only drank from her, and then one day he unchained her. She begged for freedom, for mercy – she threw herself at his feet and wept onto the cold stone floor. He laughed as he bit her, and drank until everything faded to black.

She awoke in the ground, shrieking as she clawed her way to the surface, her body propelled by an unnatural strength she had never known before. Wickham was there, waiting as she emerged from the earth. He was holding a woman, scarcely older than herself, and he beckoned her to feed. Horrified, Georgiana cried that she would not, and begged for the girl’s release.

“She is nothing, a slattern nobody shall miss,” he snarled, and he laughed as Georgiana flew at the girl and sank her fangs into drink.

The girl screamed and struggled, but Wickham held her until her strength gave out; only then did Georgiana pull away, instinctively understanding what the fading heartbeat meant. “God, no! We have to save her!” Wickham leered at her with a sinister smile before feeding on what was left of the girl, and when she was gone, he threw her body aside and crawled over to Georgiana, blood dripping down his face.

He was on top of her in an instant, pulling up her nightdress and stroking her thighs with his frigid hands. Her screams only heightened his lust, and he began to unfasten his breeches – a sudden commotion interrupted his purpose, and a tall woman with raven hair flew at Wickham. She pinned him to the ground and howled with rage. “What is this? How could you, George?”

Wickham grappled with her, the two demons fighting so roughly and so quickly Georgiana could scarcely make out what was happening. Their violence escalated; they were throwing each other several yards with a single blow, and though Georgiana wished to flee, the sheer horror of it rooted her in place. Finally the woman seemed to triumph, and she stalked slowly toward Georgiana with a jagged tree branch in her hand. As she raised it over her head, Georgiana cowered with fear, and Wickham ran toward them, thrusting himself between the two women.

“Please,” he begged. “Let me keep her – she may be of some use to us.”

“What use?”

“Hunting. Protection. And – money. Her family has lots of it.”

The tall, pale woman lowered the stake and crouched down, studying Georgiana. In a heavily accented voice, she laughingly observed, “I do not think she will amount to much, timid little thing. She is no warrior.”

“Then she can be no threat to you, my love,” Wickham replied.

The woman narrowed her eyes as she glanced over at Wickham. “And you will not love her better than me?”

“How could I? You have given me the gift of darkness, and I pledge to walk the night with you forever.”

“Forever,” the woman repeated. She leaned in and licked the blood from Wickham’s face with an amorous purr, and thrust her body toward him, Georgiana already forgotten as the two began to make passionate love.

After this was the cellar again. Wickham did not come often, and when he did, there was such cruelty that even the memory of it tore at Georgiana’s heart. The other woman came every night, always alone, always dressed lavishly and covered in jewels. At first she was harsh, but in time her jealousy was replaced with pity. Each night she would ask Georgiana if Wickham had taken her, and when Georgiana answered that he had not, she would feed Georgiana from her own wrist. It was never much – enough to keep her alive, but never enough to sate her hunger.

The last time Georgiana had seen the woman, Wickham followed her. Before she fed Georgiana, Wickham drove a stake through his paramour’s heart, and then pulled a long knife from his belt and cut off her head. A hooded figure stepped out from behind him and unfastened Georgiana’s chains as Wickham licked the blood from his blade.

Then they were in the carriage, careening through the night, until Wickham released her. “Do as you like, but remember – you will bring Darcy to me.”

The woman beside him laughed throatily before speaking in a familiar voice – Georgiana struggled to place it. “No, bring him to me.” She slid into Wickham’s lap and together the two of them shoved Georgiana out of the carriage and abandoned her in the Kentish countryside.

I love this premise and this scene! Poor Georgiana – I am glad Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Elizabeth are with her now and can help her! I wonder what they all will do next…! 🧛🏼‍♂️⚰️

Thank you so much for sharing, Jayne! I wish you all the best with NorthFanger!

~~~

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GIVEAWAY TIME!!!

Jayne is kindly offering an ebook giveaway of NorthFanger, in conjunction with her blog tour!

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