Jane Austens Novels & Stories

“I don’t know. You keep everything in such good condition. I’m almost afraid to touch anything in this room.” “I know you’ll be careful with my things.” She nodded and pulled the book off the shelf. “I didn’t know you liked Jane Austen.” “Why not?” She shrugged. “She’s a woman author.” “I’m broad minded enough to think women have a lot to offer society. I enjoy her work.” “This is one of my favorite books. Sense and Sensibility. The story of two sisters who represent two opposing forces: logic and emotion.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. He seemed to be considering her analysis of the book. “I didn’t think anyone else in Virginia understood that.”

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

He follows it up with silk hand gloves which he drops on my palms. Quietly, I follow his orders, taking care not to rip the hand gloves with my hastiness. "You can open it now." He pronounces. "You can't get much cleaner than that." With shaky hands, I skim the hand cover of the book, running my fingers through it and feeling the hard leather beneath my tips. Flipping it open, I stare in shock at the words written there. Pride and prejudice. Written by Jane Austen. Edited by William Gifford.

I could feel his eyes still on me, watching the way I held the book, the way I shifted my weight. The 7 second mark was my current record for how long I could hold his gaze without flinching or looking away. It was a stupid, private game I’d invented—a test of wills. If I looked away first, he won. If he looked away first, I won, which somehow translated in my twisted brain to: I have the upper hand in everything. “That’s Jane Austen,” Grey noted, without looking at the cover. “Not usually your style.” I lowered the book, meeting his dark eyes. “And what, precisely, is my style, Grey?”

She slapped my arm. Laughing, I dodged her attacks and scooted closer to the bus window. “Enlighten me about this great Pride and Prejudice favorite of yours then.” “Don’t you underestimate my preference. It’s a Jane Austen Classic.” She boasted proudly. “Yeah? And then?” She sighed while my grin grew wider. I found it amusing that she’s getting all so fed up by defending her favorite novel. The more I looked unconvinced, she grew more frustrated.

Her friend gave out a loud gasp. "I'll bet my new Jane Austen book that the cover is pure gold," Anne could hardly make her words audible. "Exactly. That's what makes it stranger and weirder. It creeps the hell outta me." Chelsea added. "I'll bet you wanna get rid of the book or sell it to me. I'll gladly buy it."

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

Part 7 A There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil, a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome." "And your defect is a propensity to hate everybody." "And yours," he replied with a smile, "is wilfully to misunderstand them. Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice For the next few moments silence prevailed in the room, only the ticking of the wall clock and the sound of a crying baby from somewhere near the market, surrounded them.

Sick The wind hurled against the dusty wooden window of the shop as I stared at the Jane Austen book in my hands. It's the soul-piercing story of Anne Elliot and Captain Wentworth from Persuasion. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone forever – Jane Austen

I blinked at him, sure I’d misheard him because if anyone would agree that I was to blame for all this, it would be him. But then I turned back to his mom, repeating, “Jane? As in Jane Austen, and Pride and Prejudice, and Jane Bennet?” Mrs. Webster’s eyes glittered affectionately. “Wick told you about my naming scheme, huh?” I bobbed my head up and down. “He forgot to mention that your name was Jane though.” “Or probably that his dad’s name is Charles either, I imagine,” she added, motioning toward her husband. I glanced at him, seeing Wick all over his features before it struck me: Charles Bingley had ended up with Jane Bennet in Pride and Prejudice.