WHAT PEOPLE ARE SAYING ABOUT JENNI JAMES
Reviews for Pride & Popularity (The Jane Austen Diaries) :
“This book was unputdownable. I highly recommend it to any fan of Jane Austen, young or old. Impatiently awaiting the rest of the series.”
—Jenny Ellis, Librarian and Jane Austen Society of North America
“Having read several other Young Adult retellings of Pride and Prejudice - I must admit that Pride and Popularity by Jenni James is my top choice and receives my highest recommendation! In my opinion, it is the most plausible, accessible, and well-crafted YA version of Pride and Prejudice I have read! I can hardly wait to read the [next] installment in this series!”
—Meredith, Austenesque Reviews
“I started reading Pride and Popularity and couldn’t put it down! I stayed up until 1:30 in the morning to finish. I’ve never been happier to lose sleep. I was still happy this morning. You can’t help but be happy when reading this feel good book. Thank you Jenni for the fun night!”
—Clean Teen Fiction
Reviews for Northanger Alibi (The Jane Austen Diaries):
“Twilight obsessed teens (and their moms) will relate to Claire’s longing for the fantastical but will be surprised when they find the hero is even better than a vampire or werewolf. Hilarious, fun and romantic!”
—TwilightMOMS.com
“Stephenie Meyer meets Jane Austen in this humorous, romantic tale of a girl on a mission to find her very own Edward Cullen. I didn’t want it to end!”
—Mandy Hubbard, author of Prada & Prejudice
“We often speak of Jane Austen’s satiric wit, her social commentary, her invention of the domestic novel. But Jenni James, in this delicious retelling of Northanger Abbey, casts new light on Austen’s genius in portraying relationships and the foibles of human nature—in this case, the projection of our literary fantasies onto our daily experience.”
—M.M. Bennetts, author of May 1812.
Reviews for Prince Tennyson:
“After reading Prince Tennyson, your heart will be warmed, tears will be shed, and loved ones will be more appreciated. Jenni James has written a story that will make you believe in miracles and tender mercies from above.”
—Sheila Staley, Book Reviewer & Writer
“Divinely inspired, beautifully written—a must read!”
—Gerald D. Benally, author of Premonition (2013)
“Prince Tennyson is a sweet story that will put tears in your eyes and hope in your heart at the same time.”
—Author Shanti Krishnamurty
Look for these other great books for teens and adults by Jenni James:
Jenni James Faerie Tale Collection:
Beauty and the Beast
Sleeping Beauty (Summer 2012)
Rumplestiltskin (Summer 2012)
Cinderella (Fall 2012)
Snow White (Fall 2012)
The Jane Austen Diaries:
Pride & Popularity (Aug. 2011)
Northanger Alibi (Feb. 2012)
Persuaded (Summer 2012)
Emmalee (Fall 2012)
Mansfield Ranch
Sensible & Sensational
Clean Romance for Adults
Eternal Realm Series:
Eternity (Dec 2012)
For Bailey, Maralyn, Chloe & Kassidy, because you are my true fairy princesses. I love you forever.
And to MicKayla, my ‘adopted’ daughter, for being so beautiful inside and out.
CHAPTER ONE
“ARRRRUUUGHHHHHH!”
The prince half sobbed, half howled into the night air—his feeble skin ripped, agonizingly making way for the tormented form to escape. Nearly doubled over, he’d never known such excruciating pain before, and yet the old woman continued to laugh at him.
Her unmerciful cackles pierced his ears louder than his tearing skin.
Sickened and dazed, the transformation ended with a jolt, leaving a deep-rooted throbbing ache throughout his whole form. Everything stung with the awareness of newly stretched and swollen limbs. Taking a ginger step, he practically fell over from the searing nerve endings as they shot up from the soles of his feet to his legs and back. Tender, singed and unprotected newness covered his whole form. He was so preoccupied with trying to cope, he didn’t hear the woman until she repeated herself.
“You’ll be sore for quite some time, so you’d better get used to it.” Her laughter grated again.
“Why?” gasped the prince, “Why me? Why now?” He tried to straighten and turn to meet her gaze more fully, but while attempting to, he stumbled and collapsed. Fire surged through every bone as his raw nerves met the harsh ground. The pain was more unbearable than the transformation. Nausea flooded into his pounding skull and threatened to spew out his throat onto the ground if he didn’t hold as still as possible.
He felt her cane grind into his hip, but he was too weak to acknowledge it.
“You, boy, needed to be taught a lesson.” She jabbed the sharp stick and continued, “Now you will forever know what it feels like to be ugly. Your eyes are too hazy at the moment to even see the figure you’ve become, but when you awaken”—she moved the cane to his inflamed disjointed knee and dug deep into the taut tissue. He flinched and writhed in agony, his howls filling the darkened forest—“and you will awaken. You may wish you were dead, but however, that is not the purpose of such a transformation. You will live through this—it will be several days until you’re healed enough to make it back to your castle, Prince.” She hissed his title as if it were the curse and not her hex. “At that point, when you’re able to crawl up the stately stairs to your fine room, I want you to haul yourself up upon your chiseled table and peer into the looking glass. Take in every inch of your demented form.
“That will be the day you embrace what has truly happened to you and the day you realize what it means to be a hideous beast forever.”
“NO!” he yelped as her cane lashed at his engorged, twisted spine. “Please…” His body convoluted. Nausea swam in dizzying circles until he could no longer focus on anything but the bile rising, aching to relieve itself, as the cane pounded again and again.
The old woman wheezed and thankfully the whacking stopped. She coughed for some time before weakly sputtering out the rest of the curse. “Y-you will be forced to stay this way forever, half man, half beast—unless you find some poor, pitiful female to embrace, accept, and love you for the monster that you are.”
Her breathing became more labored. “You h-have one year to achieve that impossible feat. O-one year from today to ch-change your spoilt habits and become a man. If-if you do not succeed, you will be forced to roam the earth in your gruesome form, terrorizing all who meet you, c-causing them to flee in fear from your presence. Though I must warn you—”
She wheezed again, a huge snarled inhale, which forced a series of bone-rattling hacks from her. They became larger and more pronounced with each cough—precious air forcing its way into her battered lungs.
The prince felt the space around him shift, before he heard the thud of her collapse and the silence that followed.
It was several minutes before he was able to slowly scrape his body against the earth in painful strides enough to see her, and another several minutes before he could move his limbs enough to ascertain that she was indeed dead.
He smiled then, a bitter hate-filled smile.
***
Cecelia’s eyes fluttered open and she stretched and arched to the glorious sunshine trickling through her window. The day was warm and welcoming—her toes wiggled in excitement under the delicate patchwork quilt her grandmother had especially designed for her. Today was th
e day she was going to cast off being Miss Cecelia Hammerstein-Smythe, and instead become the girl promised to Lord Charles David Willington, the most perfect man in existence.
She squealed a very unladylike squeal and hopped from the bed, her black braid bobbing and swaying with her. Within minutes she’d washed in the hand basin and without waiting for her maid, dressed in a pretty white morning frock with a lavender sash and adornments. Whirling around like a little girl she watched the dress fan out below her stockings and smiled.
The world was a wonderful place. And she, Miss Hammerstein-Smythe, was very grateful indeed to be a part of it.
With a delightful curtsy to no one in particular and jaunty half minuet step, she made her way to the wardrobe, dipped inside fetching her lavender slippers and placed them quickly upon her very happy feet before tripping lightly down the stairs into her mother’s breakfast parlor to greet Sanford’s impassive countenance.
“Good morning to you too!” she trilled out lightly as she skipped past the butler into the waiting room. “Cook has outdone herself this morning, has she not?” Cecelia giggled. It had to have been for her. The platters loaded on the sideboard were all of her most favorite breakfast foods. And when she turned she saw a huge bowl upon the middle of the table. “Look at that fruit! How could I ever eat half as much food?”
“Well, you know how Mrs. Parnel dotes on you. We’re all fortunate enough she hadn’t the time to go shopping—or we’d be looking at twice as much food.” The butler grinned at his mild humor, before schooling his features into a more appropriate look and announcing rather grandly, “I have received word from Jenkins that we are to expect your special visitor around two this afternoon, where he would like to take you driving in his carriage, if you are so inclined?”
Cecelia’s eyes sparkled over her plate she was filling from the sideboard. “I am very much inclined, as you well know.”
“I will be sure to see your reply of acceptance is sent immediately. Sanford poured her a cup of tea and set it upon the saucer on the table while a young footman held a chair for her and pushed it in as she sat down.
It only took a few minutes of eating and another half hour or so of deciding on the very best outfit to be seen in the open carriage with Lord Willington. After she saw that her maid laid the dress out to be worn later, Cecelia quickly grabbed her pelisse, buttoned it over her white and lavender morning gown and made her way outside before her mother or William, her stuffy older brother, could persuade her otherwise. She was just tying the bow to her bonnet at a rakish angle as she entered the pathway that led to the cheerful brook not quite a mile from the great house.
She loved the water, and anytime she needed a quick break from life, she would find herself sneaking off to enjoy a cool moment of refreshing solitude where no one could bother her.
Once she’d made it to the brook, it was no time at all before her slippers and stockings were off and stuffed safely into the crook of a tree branch. Her bonnet and pelisse were soon to follow, hanging rather precariously from the stub just below her shoes.
With a sigh, Cecelia sank onto her favorite rock and carelessly trailed her bare feet and ankles in the water. She made sure her gown was tucked away from the water’s edge, or there would be no explaining the scolding she would receive from her mother for ruining yet another frock.
She took a deep breath and leaned back against the large stone, enjoying the peaceful smell of grass and wildflowers, her ears rejoicing over the soft babble of the little stream beneath her. This was exactly what a perfect day should be. There was no need for anything more enjoyable than such perfection. In fact, she was positive, with the soon-to-be proposal from Lord Willington and the glorious peace-filled morning before her, there had never been a more perfect day during the whole of her existence.
And nothing, absolutely nothing, could ruin it.
***
Prince Alexander halted in his tracks at the lovely girl before him. He could just make out her profile with her back to the rock like that. Her hair was in wild abandon, with its long curls escaping the bun that was now quite forgotten and rather disheveled looking. His eyes skimmed past her pert nose down her sweet lips, then on to the hand that was softly skimming over the grass beneath it. Her legs moved then and he quickly looked away when he noticed they were uncovered.
His heart began to beat fast.
What if he were caught?
Prince Alexander knew it would be highly uncomfortable to them both, she in her state of undress and he the chosen prince of the land escaping his castle. He had been roaming farther and wider from the palace than normal of late. Escaping the confines of the huge monstrous place, he needed to be outdoors. He needed to see where it was his demented form took him to each evening. Just last night, transformed into the beast, he’d come across this exact brook and had been eager to see what it looked like in the daylight. He came as soon as he’d awoken from his night’s adventures and had become his usual self again. What had seemed like a good idea earlier, now all of the sudden seemed very bad indeed.
CHAPTER TWO
WHY MUST HE MAKE so much noise? A few moments ago, Alexander barely heard the crunching his boots made as he’d rushed along the wooded trail. Now, it would seem every step he took echoed across the whole land. Gingerly he took another pace backward, the leaves and forest floor covering snapping beneath his weight. He prayed the sound of the water and her own thoughts would distract the girl enough to allow him his escape.
Another couple of steps and he would be out of her eyesight at least, though he’d have to keep quiet a bit longer than that. Who knew how sharp her ears were.
Alexander could almost taste his freedom, when just then he startled a small rabbit from its hiding spot under the bush to his right. The animal scurried loudly across the forest floor and headed straight for the girl.
She glanced up at the sudden movement and caught the prince as he was ready to flee himself. Her eyes grew wide with shock and the inevitable anger quickly replaced her beautiful looks into the scowling fortress before him.
He mumbled under his breath, not realizing until it was too late, exactly who he had disrupted. Her face had been hidden just enough to not recognize her until now. It would have been his luck to stumble across the only female in the land who absolutely loathed him and had no problem telling him so to his face whenever she had the opportunity. How did the fates find him this fortunate? What were the odds of such an occurrence, really?
“You?!”
Miss Hammerstein-Smythe’s outraged shriek he was certain could be heard for miles.
Already Alexander’s hands were up in a defensive gesture. “Now, wait a moment. This is not what it looks like. I merely—”
“You have been following me! I knew it.” She quickly scrambled to her feet and brushed her gown down over her bare legs. “How long have you been spying on me?”
“I wasn’t. I was simply on my way to the brook having no idea you would be here.”
Cecelia placed her hands on her hips and faced him. “You expect me to believe you, Prince Alexander, decided to simply wander all the way from your castle to my father’s property, to my exact favorite spot along this whole streambed, where you could’ve stopped anywhere, at the exact same time I would be here, and that it was not because of me?”
“No. Yes! I do expect you to believe just that, because it is the truth.”
“What do you want from me? Why must every time I search for peace I find you?”
“I’m sure it’s not every time.” He watched her arch an eyebrow. “Look, nothing. Nothing. I want nothing. I don’t even want to talk to you.”
She scrunched her nose slightly and titled her head. “Why should I believe you?”
Alexander moved forward just a step. “Because, as I said, it is the truth.”
Cecelia was embarrassed, completely mortified if she were honest, but she would die before she let the prince know how upsetting his presence was. Instead, she
did what she always did in such confrontations and went on the attack. “I do not believe you.” She took a step forward and then paused when she felt her foot crunch on the prickly forest floor. “You have never before told the truth—always bragging and lying about anything and everything—why should I care to listen to what you say now?” She folded her arms very unladylike and continued, “As far as I’m concerned you came here to torment me, so out with it.” She defiantly lifted her chin in an obvious challenge. “Say whatever lies and bullying you’d like, we’re on even ground now, you and I, with you on my father’s property and so far away from your palace guards. Tell me.”
The prince shook his head. “Miss Hammerstein-Smythe I’m not here to quarrel with you again. You can keep your solitude. Forgive me for the interruption, I wish you a good day.” With that he quickly bowed at the waist and turned on his heel to make a hasty retreat. He didn’t care where he went as long as it was as far away from the girl as he could get.
“Wait.” Cecelia cursed her impulse to call him back so quickly, but the damage had been done.
Alexander paused, but did not turn fully around. “Yes?”
Nervously she clutched the sides of her gown. “I—you, what is wrong?”
He turned toward her. “Wrong?”
Goodness, would she never learn to keep her mouth shut? She took another step forward, heedless of the sharp floor below, she felt compelled to continue. “There’s something different about you. What is it?”
Alexander attempted a laugh. To his chagrin, it came out sounding more like a nervous goat bleating, which he quickly covered with a cough. “There’s nothing wrong with me. Nothing different at all. What do you mean?”
She grinned. She couldn’t help it. He looked just like the neighbor’s son when he was caught snitching Cook’s pastries. “Where are my insults? Have you nothing rude to say to me? You’ve never stopped before from saying exactly what was on your mind. Why is today an exception? Something has happened.”