Greetings, dear readers! Yesterday I shared a reviews for Dear Nameless Stranger by Jeannie Peneaux, and today I’m super thrilled to have the lovely Julie Cooper – author of the newly published (as of 4 days ago!) Nameless – visit Austenesque Reviews! It looks like books about anonymity are trending this week! 😄

Let me just express how excited I am about Julie Cooper’s new release – I’ve adored each of her published works I’ve, read and I love the original idea of intermingling Pride and Prejudice with Daphne Du Maurier’s Rebecca! 💗

Julie is here today to share an oh-so-enticing excerpt from her new release – Nameless! We hope you enjoy! 🙌🏼

~ Book Description ~

“This was not a man who would explode in a rage, or who would give way to shame or temper…which meant my choices were simple: either he had killed her in cold blood, or he had not killed her at all.”

ORPHANED AND ALONE IN THE WORLD, Elizabeth Bennet has found reasonable contentment as a companion to the Dowager Countess of Matlock, the affairs of 1811 and Fitzwilliam Darcy long forgotten. But the past intrudes upon her again, and Mr Darcy returns to her, handsome, wealthy, and widowed, and hiding many secrets beneath his solemn exterior.

BUT IF TIME HAD ALTERED THEIR CIRCUMSTANCES, one thing remains: Mr Darcy still wishes to marry her, and this time, Elizabeth consents. At nearly twenty-nine it is inarguably a good prospect for her and indeed, not until they arrive at his vast estate does she realise how large a shadow his late wife will cast over their growing love. But the new Mrs Darcy’s courage will continue to rise despite the many attempts to intimidate her; and she vows to use whatever power she holds over the master of Pemberley to keep him.

NAMELESS is a tale of the triumph of good over evil, of passion over prejudice, of loyalty over lies…and most of all, of enduring, unfailing love.

~ Excerpt from Nameless ~

With an impulsive loss of dignity so complete I blush to remember it, I hitched up my skirts and ran.

I must have run a half mile or so, and while I was an avid walker, I do not believe I had run so far in a stretch since I was a girl. Collapsing at the foot of a large oak, hardly able to catch my breath, I tore at the fastenings of my now mud-splashed coat, sweating, gasping, heart pounding wildly. My cap slipped and hung askew, my hair almost combusting at the loss of pins and fabric securing it.

And so of course, that is where he found me, obviously alarmed by my flight, as well as my current unkempt and disordered condition. I might have even laughed at his expression, were I not so embarrassed.

I yanked off the hated cap, uncaring of the wrenching pins still clinging to my hair. At least now the breeze could reach my scalp. With a deep sigh, I leant back upon the oak, closing my eyes and hoping that a stray bolt of lightning might end my mortification.

I expected his remonstrances, but his question, when it came, surprised me.

“Does my presence distress you?”

I opened my eyes. Heedless of his clothing, he knelt beside me on the ground. He looked concerned and yet…there was a penetrating keenness in his gaze, as if he asked more than his words implied.

“Your presence at Rosings, or your presence now, in particular?” I replied with my own question.

“Is there a difference?”

I sighed, closing my eyes again. A distant bird trilled its song. A breeze fluttered leaves in a raspy rustling. He simply waited.

“No,” I said. “It is not you. I…I do not like to remember what I cannot always forget. It was a moment of…homesickness, for a home long gone. I ran from it.”

“Does that work?” he asked, as if he really wondered.

I considered. I no longer was in any danger of sobbing, so… “Yes. Sometimes.”

He settled in beside me at the base of the huge oak tree. We were in a more densely forested section of the park, and it was colder here in the gloom, now that my sweat was drying. I tried to think of something to say, but nothing occurred to me. My deepest thoughts were too close to the surface, my tenderest emotions too exposed. ‘How do you find the weather?’ was the only question that seemed safe, and it was a stupid one since we were sitting out of doors in it. So I sat in silence, close enough to hear his intake of breath and soft exhale.

And then, in the most casual tone one could imagine, he asked, “I wonder whether you would do me the honour of marrying me?”

I turned to stare at him. Had he suddenly sprouted a second head, I could not have been more astonished.

“Is this a joke?”

He frowned. “It would be a terrible one. No, of course not.”

“Mr Darcy…I am nearly nine and twenty.” I am not quite certain why I felt the need to clarify that—he must have had some idea.

“And I am nearly seven and thirty,” he replied. “It does not signify.”

But it did. He and the first Mrs Darcy were childless, and so it made sense that he would want to marry again, so quickly even, to fill his nursery. Surely a female at the peak of her youth and beauty would be a better choice.

“Why?” My mother was probably rolling in her grave at my hesitation, but it made no sense why he would wish it, other than the fact that I was here, obviously available, and the whole thing could likely be accomplished at very little trouble to himself.

“Because it is my dearest wish,” he said politely, stiltedly, and completely unbelievably.

My pride, that prickly wench, revolted, but I was accustomed to bridling her. This was my fourth proposal of marriage. Mr Collins had been the first; Mr Plimpton—of extremely good fortune and noxious breath—was the second. While I might have overcome his odours, he spoke to me as if I were a not-overbright child. Mr MacAdam was handsome, prosperous, charming, and, to use the slang term, a rakehell. I was, at first, delighted with his courtship, but when Uncle discovered several flaws of an alarming nature in his character, I broke it off immediately. Heaven only knew our family had suffered enough with one of those.

Of the four, Mr Darcy was far and away the best of the lot.

I was not desperate. While the countess would not live forever, by the time she departed this mortal coil and Jane must take me in, the children would be older and I, hopefully, would be more accustomed to the idea of living as my sister’s impoverished relation. I did not need to marry.

I wanted to. I wanted my own home, my own life. Not at any cost, as Charlotte had. Was marriage, to him, a price worth paying?

I had been staring at him while these thoughts blundered and plundered through my mind, my mouth open in shock, when without warning, he leant in.

Is he going to kiss me? I barely had time to think the question before his lips were upon mine.

AHHHHHH!!! GAHHHHHHH!! First of all, Julie – your way with words is exquisite – you have me hanging on each one with bated breath! And second of all, this scene! I cannot wait to see what else happens with these two – with Mr. Darcy being so very reserved and serious and Elizabeth contemplating a marriage of convenience! Thank you so much for sharing, Julie! 🥰

A BIG congratulations on your release of Nameless! 🎉

~~~

Now Available in Audible Audiobook!

~~~

GIVEAWAY TIME!!!

In conjunction with Julie’s lovely visit, Quills & Quartos is giving away 1️⃣ ebook copy and 1️⃣paperback copy of Nameless to 2️⃣ lucky winners!!

To enter this giveaway leave a comment, a question, or some love for Julie below!

• This giveaway is open worldwide (paperback copy is open to US residents).  Thank you, Quills and Quartos!
• This giveaway ends August 20th

~~~

~ SALE ALERT ~

Julie’s magnificent vampyre tale – Tempt Me is currently on S A L E for 💲2️⃣.9️⃣9️⃣‼️