1815 Jane Austen Novel Novels & Stories

Pride & Prejudice is in the public domain; however, giving credit where credit is due, it is the work of the absolutely brilliant Jane Austen. Anything you recognize is hers, the rest is mine. I'm just taking the opportunity to shake things up a bit. Or rather take the good fortune and coincidence scattered throughout the work and cranking it up a notch or three. Chapter 1

S. And why does Jane have a coat with someone else’s initials on it... initials that aren’t hers?

It isn't just a house, it's a home; she's made it that way. “You really think that we needed to stop here before we started our tour to Bradburtshire?” asked Nathan as he called out to Jane who was in the bedroom closet packing her bags. “It is not only me who needs clothes and other stuff, Nathan. You are also going to need them. That overnight bag that you have packed in the back of your car, don’t think that I haven’t seen it is not going to cut it. You are going to meet a Lord, however stuffy and funny that might seem to you. A lot of this thing is riding on who is dealing with what. And moreover I don’t think that I should go with you at all,” said Jane as she came in the drawing room w

This one had a black hard cover with the title engraved into it alongside the author’s name. Jane Austen. It was custom-made. Uncle Sebastien was a lot of things, but him reading fictional literature wasn’t one of the things I had expected. He acted twice his age, like he didn’t belong in this generation at all. Everything about him. The way he talked. His mannerisms. Rigid. Controlled. Weird. I flipped through the pages, still trying to process it all. The formatting looked old-fashioned, like one of those historical editions from decades ago. The names “Elizabeth Bennet” and “Mr. Darcy” were highlighted neatly throughout the pages.

Her heart thudded in her chest as she untied the ribbon and lifted the lid. Inside was a book. A rare first edition of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, its leather-bound cover delicate yet immaculate. She gasped, her fingers brushing over the gilt lettering. Nestled beside it was a small, cream-colored card. She picked it up, her breath catching as she read the elegant script: “For a literature enthusiast. —N.B.”

Jane said, opening a cabinet to reveal a small fridge containing some champagne, sparkling juice, and wines. “Champagne?” Jane offered and Antheia just nodded. She poured on their glasses and handed one to Antheia which she took a sip from. Jane emptied her glass in one shot, and then walked to the landline telephone, ringing the maid’s room. “Hello, please send the chief maid Tessa to the ladies’ chamber. Tell her to bring a robe for our guest.” Jane ordered and the other person on the line immediately complied. They sat on the couch, facing each other, a table in between them, and Jane sighed as she reminisced her sister’s suffering when her mate died and she was arranged to a man she did

After a moment of hesitation, she opened the door a little and peeped inside, when she saw no one, she opened it further and stepped in. Her gaze swept over the room once again, taking in its minimalist, yet elegant state. Everything was orderly, the bed was neatly made, and her eyes were drawn to the small bookshelf next to it. Curiosity got the better of her, and she found herself walking towards the bookshelf. “Jane Austen and R.L Stines,” she murmured as she ran her fingers along the spine of the books, “Interesting taste.” Her gaze landed on a picture frame wedged in between the books and her curiosity piqued further as she gently took it out.

Jimmy said to Susan. She laughed. “She’s going to be a famous writer. She’d better have some opinions on literature.” “Fine,” Kimia glared at me. “Jane Austin. She had some great leads.” “Darcy was an asshole to Elizabeth, Bingly let himself be talked away from Jane, Wickham is just a bastard, Wentworth treated Anne like shit because she refused him as a teenager, Edmund Bertram was obsessed with the pretty new girl and forgot about Fanny, Ferras fell in love with Elanore when he was engaged to someone else, Brandon was still hung up on his dead ex, and let’s face it. Nobody cares about Northanger Abbey.”

"Especially not a novel about a woman trapped in a loveless marriage to a controlling billionaire." Jane's words from days ago came rushing back. *Does he know about the novel you're writing?* "Jane told you." "Jane confirmed what I already suspected." He opened a drawer and pulled out a printed manuscript—her novel. "You left your laptop open more than once. I was curious." "That's a violation of my privacy!" She reached for the pages, but he held them back. "It's good," he said, catching her off guard. "The characterization is strong. The dialogue feels authentic."

“ Mr. Vertigo? Dave inquired “Just give me a second,” Jane Austen said picking up the phone, she dialed a number, after few beeps, the other person picked up, mumbled some words to her, and ended the call. “this way sirs!! She says beaming with a friendly smile. Jane Austen led them to the top floor of the building, when they got to the office, she opened the door and usher them in, then she closed the door, and left them there.