So much is going on that I don't even know where to start! To Conquer Mr. Darcy (formerly titled Impulse & Initiative) was released on August 2, but I still haven't gotten around to doing a giveaway of it here because I've been busy working on an exciting new project which will be launched September 6. It's something that Sharon Lathan and I dreamed up at the Romance Writers of America National Convention, an occasion which deserves a blog post of its own. It's a group blog of authors of traditionally published Austen-related fiction, and we've been astonished with the enthusiastic response we've been getting from other writers. We'd optimistically hoped we could get 8 or so writers involved, but we're up to almost 20 with new ones signing on every day, and even more offering to do guest posts from time to time. I'll be doing a massive book giveaway there in September, including all my books from out-of-print to my latest release, and there will be tons of other giveaways as well. Be sure to stop by in September!

I've also been writing like mad. The next Pemberley Variation is almost finished, despite major efforts by Darcy, Elizabeth, and Georgiana to sidetrack the plot, not to mention the completely unplanned for steamy scene. Advice: don't trust Jane and Georgiana if they offer to chaperone Lizzy and Darcy. Epic fail! Well, it's true that I still don't have the ending down, but it's almost there. All that sidetracked me from the story I've been expanding at 50 Miles, but that's next on the agenda.

Also on the books for the next couple of months are a totally revamped web site and (crossing fingers) the eventual release of the oft-delayed Morning Light, sequel to The Man Who Loved Pride & Prejudice. Meantime, the never-before-published Mr. Darcy's Obsession is available for pre-order and is already garnering some great reviews, including one from Booklist that will be released next week (they were kind enough to give me a sneak peak).

Oh, yes, and I've been on the road all summer. I started out on July 1, managed 12 whole days at home in August, and am now off again until early September. Fortunately, there's been lots of inspiration along the way between writers' conferences and time in Woods Hole, and it's been fun.

By the way, comments on this blog now have a slight publication delay, not because I want anyone to hesitate to comment but because there's been a major problem with spam comments (part of the inspiration for the website revamp). But I do love your comments, and none of them are being censored unless they selling something.

Best,
Abigail

So, Darcy and Elizabeth were having this shy but touching conversation while sitting on a riverbank and talking about how the water flows to the sea, and suddenly Darcy starts whispering in my ear.

“Only a gentleman would master temptation.” Elizabeth did not know what else to say, and it seemed that neither did he, for the silence between them grew long. Finally she said archly, “I am glad, I suppose, to know that I was enough to tempt you.”

He half-turned toward her, leaning on one hand, his voice low. “You can have no idea how you tempt me. You tempt me every day with the thought of your laughter, and every night with the thought of touching you. You tempt me with your every smile, your glance, the way you bite your lip when you are concentrating, by the sparkle in your eye when someone challenges you, the way you tilt your head when you are about to tease, by your sweetness when you try to protect someone’s feelings. I remember watching you walk past me at Netherfield, and aching to take you into my arms. I remember listening to you play and sing, and thinking you the most fascinating creature I had ever met. I remember how you cared for your sister when she was ill, and how I wished you would care for me in the same way. I remember how your hair glinted in the candlelight at the Netherfield ball, and how I longed to touch it, to take the pins out and watch it tumble around your shoulders. I see the pulse in your neck, and I ache to press my lips to it. I dream of your eyes sparkling for me, your hands reaching for me, your lips against mine. Oh, yes, Elizabeth, you tempt me. Every second, every minute, every hour, every day, waking or sleeping, you tempt me almost beyond reason.” His eyes were dark, his voice almost a whisper by the time he finished, but she heard every word of it.

Elizabeth felt suddenly unable to breathe. A new heat flowed through her, and it was as if his lips had indeed branded her neck, his eyes had indeed claimed her for his. She felt aware of her body as she never had before, aching for him to come even closer, yet at the same time fearing it. She could feel the tension radiating from him, and his scent of leather and fresh soap made her dizzy. She was glad she was sitting; had they still been standing, she doubted her legs would have held her. As it was, she felt as if she might melt and run into the river. How could she possibly reply? She touched her tongue to her dry lips.

“Dearest, loveliest Elizabeth,” he breathed, his words a caress in themselves.

Whew! That Darcy is something else. Now I just need to figure out how to get them out of the big hole they've just dug themselves into....

Just when I was ready to give up hope and settle for something second-rate, the last scene of Bounds of Decorum finally crystalized for me. I've been fighting with it for months, and no matter what I did, it seemed anticlimactic. I needed a conversation between Elizabeth and Darcy after their wedding, and I tried doing it outside the church (insufficiently private) at the wedding breakfast (unintelligible due to interruptions) and on the carriage ride to London (boring, boring, boring! I wouldn't want to spend time with those people!). The tone was always slightly off, too, not enough humor and happiness to balance the serious elements.

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My muse dropped by briefly, took one look at the scenes I posted a few days ago and sniffed. So today I have a rewritten version of the scene with Charlie, plus another new scene which may or may not stay around. I needed a break from the long series of scenes of X talks to Y in Meryton - it gets dull after a while. We're a lull in the action at the moment. I struggle with stepping back from a plot to see what its problem is - or rather I can usually see what the problem is, but my muse is notoriously uncooperative with my attempts to fix anything based on an intellectual decision. It's writing from the gut or not at all. But at least I got something this time, and I'm happier with the Charlie scene now.

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