“Dear author” – the latest scams mostly start– “your new novel, Mary-Ann: A Sense and Sensitivity Sequel, made me weep, cry, mourn and scream with laughter in equal measure. The sublimity of your gift is a blessing to the universe. Please send me the deeds to your second home by return of post and something truly amazing will come your way…”
No, I’m lying. They actually quit at “blessing to the entire universe”, and they don’t always spell “Marianne” wrongly, or – indeed – at all, as scammers mostly can’t be bothered to find out how to spell anything. And it’s only if you’re dumb enough to write back that they try to weasel money out of you (according to Alli, the Society of Authors and The Author’s Guild, to all of which I’m proud to belong). I’ve never written back to a scammer, and I never will, having been warned against it by all three august institutions.
The funniest scammer I’ve had so far began, “Hey Alice, I run the ONLINE SMUTTY FICTION CLUB, and I just know that your Marianne: A Sense and Sensibility Sequel would be the most perfect fit for our February 2026 pick-of-the-month!” And so on. And on. And on…
Trouble is: my new release is, in common with all of my previous Austenesque novels, as clean as driven snow. As some of you will know, I attempt – mostly in vain – to emulate Austen herself, and in Austen’s own works of genius – please note, I’m not answering for the adaptations – if even a hand gets smooched, it’s a pretty big deal.
In some cases, a very big deal. (I’m thinking Emma, and unexpectedly, here.)
In short, if you want to know exactly how much smut there in Austen’s own masterpieces, the answer is … zero.
What distresses me is that these fatheads think it worth their while to kickstart their despicable AI into writing over-the-top praise of our books, in hopes of wheedling their way into our wallets. Luckily, Austen readers and writers are unusually intelligent.
Or so I believe.
As for me, have been bowled over by the editorial reviews of Marianne. Haven’t had reviews like these since being published by Hachette, in contemporary fiction in the late 90s.
Am beginning to think it might be – just about – ok. (Please note: not one of these reviews below is from my Mum. This is partly because she hates fiction, and partly because she hates my fiction, in particular, which is – and I mean this – a mega-grief to me.)
With thanks for support from so many of you,
Alice
“A deeply felt and pitch-perfect continuation that lets its title character finally come into her own.” – Kirkus Review
“Marianne captures the essence of Austen… Funny, heartwarming, and everything lovers of Austen’s universe could hope for.“
- BookLife Prize review in PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
“A masterpiece!” – Editor, HISTORICAL FICTION COMPANY review
“An absolute delight: romance and satire worthy of Austen herself.” – IndieReader editorial review
“A vivid portrait of Regency life, filled with class anxieties, and the limitations even wealthy women faced. McVeigh delivers a rare kind of sequel: one that honors Austen’s world while expanding it. McVeigh is true to the spirit of the original while offering something entirely her own.”
– RECOMMENDED by the US Review of Books
“This could have been penned by Austen herself – it feels both familiar and fresh. McVeigh seamlessly picks up where Austen left off, presenting a Marianne who is complex, thoughtfully portrayed, and deeply relatable… An absolute must-read for Austen fans.”
– Editorial Review, The Coffee Pot Book Club
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