Downton Abbey Read-alikes Novels & Stories

Abbey walks to her room not long after picking up my clothes that were scattered all over the floor and brings them to me as I take a quick shower washing away the shame of being caught in bed with my girl. Once I am done I find Abbey sitting on the bed waiting for me while she reads a book. I smile at the sight in front of me. She is so beautiful. Her long hair falling down her back while she rubs her lips with her thumb while she reads. So cute. She has this thing that every time she is distracted or reading she is rubbing her lip with her thumb. Rubbing her nails on it.

Leading the way into the living room, she added, "And there's a couple of new radio shows that debuted last month. Nothing that stands out though. I think you're right. I miss Alias Jimmy Valentine too." "Oh! Not there, please, Lily! Those have to go back to the library." With an annoyed flick of a brow, Lily lifted her coffee mug to give Evelyn time to move the books aside. "The Roman Revolution. Diplomacy," she commented drily, tilting her head to one side, reading the titles along the book spines. "The Empire of the Steppes. The Wimsey Papers. Why can't you just read Agatha Christie like everyone else?"

“You found another one. Thank you.” “It’s nothing,” he answered. Dylan rested his chin on his open palm and stared at the adorable grin of hers that he loved so much. “I think you should read slower, though. At this rate, you might read through all of the Bennets’ book collection in no time.” “That doesn’t sound bad at all!”

Yeah, join the club. I sighed, wondering just how long I’d be stuck down here. I combed my fingers through my hair, pulling it up into a messy bun on the top of my head. Unruly red curls with a mind of their own fell around my face. My body propped itself up against the wall, my hand reaching for the book that I was currently reading. This was my third time reading “Outlander” by Dianna Gabaldon. Her series was one that I really enjoyed. A twentieth-century nurse went back in time to eighteenth-century Scotland. It was filled with love and loss as well as honor and betrayal. Her writing had it all.

I was still going to do all I can to get it back on track after Lorenzo comes back. I am going to try and be happy again. Mona seemed deep in thoughts. To lighten the mood, I said. “I bet I’ve read more books than you.” She scoffed. “You haven’t.” “Fine, have you read Verity?” “One of my favorite, yes” “Claiming what’s his.” “Of course.” “The Duke’s Gamble.” “I read that a long time ago.” “The talking pillow.” She laughed. “That isn’t a book.”

While I took my phone and opened N*****x, I searched for the Bridgerton series and added it to my list. He came back after ten minutes with the first two books, Daphne and Anthony’s story. He settles back into bed with me and hands me The Duke and I. I start reading out loud and after the first two chapters, Blake tells me that we should switch to the audio book so it would be easier for us and I won’t have to stress myself reading out loud.

The last thing he needed was to have to endure it all over again. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA The Downstairs Study, The Duchene Estate, Leighton, England, (1762)... Alain stepped inside the room which was vastly inferior to his father's main study and lined with bookcases filled with books of every sort. The scent of dust and leather filled his nostrils as he made his way toward one of the leather-bound armchairs his mother had custom-made for this room and took a seat at his father's behest. Alfred seemed to be deep in thought for a few moments as he ventured toward a rather large window and took note of the pouring rain. His son seemed to be quite restless due

Abigail The moment my phone began vibrating against my lap, I barely spared it a glance. I was too deep into The Clock Maker's Widow, the sequel to The Blood of Mayfair, and I had just hit the chapter where everything began crumbling around the villain. The tension in the book had my breath caught halfway in my throat, and I wasn’t ready to let go. But then my buzzed again insistently, pulling me out of the story. I sighed heavily, sliding the book’s silk ribbon between the pages and marking my spot. I picked up the phone, my lips already thinned with annoyance until I saw Alexander's name flash across the screen.

"But that's for another day. Tonight, I'm not holding back." The dining room hit me with a blast of stifling hot air-Grandpa always kept the mansion's air conditioning cranked to desert levels. Dad was deep in conversation with George Simpson, while Jack mindlessly scrolled through his phone. But what really made my blood boil was the sight of Aunt Mary lounging like royalty with Lucy Taylor fanning her like some colonial-era servant. "My dear aunt certainly knows how to live," I announced, unable to contain myself. "Taking a personal assistant everywhere just to fan her. For a second I thought I'd walked onto the set of Downton Abbey-are we filming a period drama now?"

It’s a comforting sound, just loud enough to drown out the coiled silence of the night without waking the couple sleeping upstairs. Once the coffee is done, I pour myself a cup and then settle at the broad kitchen table to read. I’m halfway through a romance novel, one of those British regency ones where everybody wears elaborate dresses and drinks tea with chaperones. As I lose myself in the tapestry of letters, I can’t help but picture Tanner as the dashing male lead. I bet he’d look delicious in one of those high-collared jackets and an ascot. Thump. A soft sound on the stairs jolts me from my drifting thoughts.