As I write this, I’m sitting in an old pub in Reading, England, on my way home after a fabulous visit to Wales. The primary purpose of this trip was to drop my daughter off at university there, but I had other plans as well.
First, I wanted to visit friends in the UK. Some are old and dear friends, whom I don’t see nearly often enough. Others are people I’ve only met on-line before, but whom I now have had the genuine pleasure of meeting in person, and whom I now call friends. Alice McVeigh, brilliant author, fellow Always Austen-ite, and amazing musician, is one of these people, and I cannot say how thrilling and delightful it was to meet her, her husband, and her adorable dachshunds.
My second purpose was to stop by the Jane Austen’s House Museum in Chawton, where our favourite author lived for the last several years of her life, and where so much of her brilliant oeuvre was written. Yes, I saw THE TABLE, where she crafted her works of genius. It’s tiny. Its impact is huge. There, I met with my friend and fellow JAFF author Michelle d’Arcy, to mark the donation you, dear readers, helped us make through sales of our anthology last February, With Love, Mr Darcy. We—no, YOU—raised £2200 (nearly USD$3000) for the museum, which will go a long way to cover some very necessary repairs to the old building. THANK YOU. This was a labour of love on the part of the authors, and we’re thrilled to have been able to help preserve this important site.
My next goal was to tour around, partly because Wales is stunningly beautiful, with glorious beaches, majestic mountains, fairytale-lovely valleys, and a depth of history that’s almost unimaginable, but also because my new novel is set in Wales.
Why does Wales inspire me so much? Here are a few photos from our trip to give you a hint.
(All photos (c) Riana Everly)
In my brand-new release, Pride and Pursuit, Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy find themselves travelling through the valleys and mountains as they hope to escape capture by a murderous George Wickham. Theirs was no pleasure trip like mine was, although I walked through enough rain that I now feel an extra degree of sympathy for their plight!
(You might have noticed a new style for my cover. My previous artist has given up that part of her business, which sent me into a panic. I was extremely fortunate to find a new gifted graphic artist who did this for me. I’m so pleased with the result.)
Here’s the blurb for Pride and Pursuit:
An Act of Desperation… An Unexpected Journey…
When a peaceful night’s stay at a posting inn is interrupted by a murderous attack by an old enemy, Fitzwilliam Darcy must flee for his life. With only the clothes on his back and his pursuer snapping at his heels, he resorts to desperate measures, including stealing an empty carriage to escape from his foe. Matters go from bad to worse when he discovers the purloined vehicle is not as abandoned as he thought!
Elizabeth Bennet’s day is supposed to be one of leisure and perhaps a bit of tedium as she returns home after a busy visit to London. Being jolted awake in her father’s carriage by a filthy madman raving about bloodthirsty adversaries while tearing through the countryside is not part of her plan.
Forced together by fate, Darcy and Elizabeth have no choice but to tolerate each other as their flight takes them through the wilds of Wales. Grudging acceptance softens to understanding and a budding friendship as the two unlikely companions discover there is more to each other than first impressions suggest.
But George Wickham is still in pursuit, and even the most ardent love might not be enough to survive his drive for vengeance.
And here’s an excerpt from Pride and Pursuit: A Pride and Prejudice Variation.
The respite of sunshine was short-lived, and soon after their afternoon rest, the rain started again. Now it became cold, despite the time of year, and heavy clouds blanketed the surrounding mountains. Elizabeth tried not to shiver, but wrapped the blanket tightly around her shoulders and fought to hold the umbrella steady to keep Will as dry as possible.
“It is of no use, Elizabeth,” he sighed at last. “The rain is too heavy, and the very air is wet. Keep yourself dry under the cover. I am already as wet as a drowned rat.”
It was true. His handsome face did not look quite so noble or haughty now, with a heavy shade of beard and rivulets of rain plastering his hair to his forehead. He had removed his hat earlier, explaining that the rain would surely destroy it, and that it was more useful against the sun and as a disguise of sorts. His skin was pale and his knuckles, as he held the reins, were white.
Dobbin, too, was most unhappy, moving steadily onward, but at a slow and halting plod rather than a crisp trot.
“We cannot go much farther. Will there be a village ahead, do you think?” Elizabeth peered into the distance, hoping to conjure up a nice, warm inn. Something tickled the back of her throat and she coughed.
Will turned to her in alarm. “You are not taking ill, I hope! This rain is most unwelcome. I cannot have you become sick.”
Elizabeth tried to smile back. “I am made of stern stuff. And even if it is a trifling cold, I shall be fine. Still…”
“We need to find shelter. I am wet through and will be of no use to anybody if I am laid low as well. Let us see what we can find.”
But no village appeared through the mist, no welcome mile marker pointed to an obliging inn.
The rain grew heavier, and turned to hail.
“There, down by the river? What is that?” A misty shape wavered through the dismal rain, foreboding and dark, but possibly promising some sort of shelter.
Will nodded once and found a track, down which he directed the increasingly recalcitrant Dobbin.
The shape began to take a more definite form as they approached. This was no farmer’s cottage with a bright fire, or convenient hunting shack with a fireplace, but rather, the ruins of an old and crumbling church of some sort. There were three standing walls, the remains of a window casement on the fourth, and a partial roof over one end. It was beautiful.
“It will not give us much protection, but it will shelter us somewhat.” Will’s eyes scanned the structure and led the horse and cart through the missing wall to that blessedly dry area at the far end. There was enough of the roof left to provide a reasonable covering for the cart and some room for Dobbin to move about if he wished. It was more, frankly, than Elizabeth had hoped for.
“This will do well.” She tried to sound cheerful, but the words came out more as a sob.
“Aw, Lizzy, do not cry. We will manage quite nicely. We have food and blankets, and the rain cannot last forever.” Will’s eyes belied his cheerful words, and despite her every effort, Elizabeth burst into tears.
“I am sorry,” she choked out. “I am not a watering pot, nor am I so miserable. These are tears born of exhaustion and not despair, but…” She squeezed her eyes closed, trying to regain control over her leaking eyes.
A tentative touch to her shoulder alerted her to Will’s proximity and when she did not flinch, the touch became firmer, more sure. She leaned into it, and before she knew, he had encircled her with both arms and pulled her close, holding her against his chest. Momentary alarm rippled through her at this unexpected intimacy, but it faded almost at once. This was Will. She could trust him.
Pride and Pursuit is available for purchase in ebook and paperback at Amazon, and it is also free to read through Kindle Unlimited. You can find it here: https://books2read.com/PrideandPursuit
Are you lucky enough to live in or near Wales? What is your favourite part of this spectacular country?
Have you ever been somewhere that just inspires you? Where? I’d love to hear about it.
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