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As the song goes, there are "miles and miles of Texas." Miles of desert to the west, miles of piney woods to the east, miles of highway and byway streaking every which way in between, and Austin, the sparkling jewel nestled at the center, a kaleidoscope of color and movement ... and weird. Those of us lucky enough to move here from Houston, Dallas, and beyond hung on like runner weeds, determined to stay whether we really belonged or not.
But who could say, really, who belonged and who didn't—conformance was a dirty word here in the capital city, where the unofficial slogan, emblazoned across T-shirts in all-capped, bold white font, was "Keep Austin Weird." I didn't own one of these shirts. Not yet. I'd held off, waiting for the moment when my own personal weirdness factor justified the purchase. Otherwise, I'd just be a poseur, part of the problem. Geeky not being synonymous with weird, I'd been under the impression I still had a long way to go. But as of approximately ten seconds ago, I think, just maybe, I might have crossed over into the realm of "weird."
Having lived in this city for eight serious-minded years as somewhat of an outsider, skulking on the fringe in T-shirts from Old Navy, you'd think I'd be excited, giddy even. But honestly, I was getting more and more panicky by the minute. All because of a journal.
The journal had been intended as the perfect Austenesque birthday gift for my vintage-obsessed younger cousin. I'd found it lying alongside a worn copy of Pride and Prejudice in a quirky antiques shop down on South Congress and simply couldn't pass it up, hobnobbing, as it was, with greatness. I had a bit of a soft spot for Ms. Austen and all she touched. The book was even inscribed with a quirky and rather perplexing dedication in an old-fashioned script:
"... I dedicate to You the following Miscellanious Morsels, convinced that if you seriously attend to them, You will derive from them very important Instructions, with regard to your Conduct in Life."
Charmingly vintage, with its elaborately detailed antiqued brass key plate and burnished doorknob affixed to the front, not to mention its slightly batty hint of shrewdly dispensed life advice, it seemed a perfect choice for a secret diary. I figured the absence of clasp and key could be remedied with a good hiding place. Evidently mine hadn't been nearly good enough. But then, I'd never planned on needing one.
My delight in finding the perfect gift had lasted all of five minutes—long enough to treat myself to a chai tea latte and settle into a café chair to admire my purchase. Slightly envious, I'd splayed my fingers over the bumpy black leather cover and even gone so far as to dip my unpolished, trimmed-short fingernail into the tiny keyhole. I'd instantly felt an unexpected little zing that had sent goose bumps chasing each other up my arms and nerves spiraling down like a roller coaster into the pit of my stomach. Startled, I'd jerked back, jostling my full-to-the-brim cup and sending a cascade of warm, spiced tea down onto the little book, staining the pages, buckling the edges, and rendering it ungiftable all in one fell swoop.
I'd chalked the whole situation up to general journal incompatibility and carted my newly ruined journal home with me, not having any clue what I'd do with it. I'd always been more of a clipboard kind of girl, and not much had changed recently. After four years of engineering at UT–Austin, and another few getting my MBA, I was anxious to keep the momentum going. Having just purchased my first house, a little fixer-up bungalow in the city's über-hip West Sixth Street neighborhood, I was now gunning for a management position with its boost in salary and prestige, and I was spending my weekends on carefully planned and executed DIY projects. Men were a distraction. They were also the meat and potatoes of journaling, and for the time being, I was dieting. Looking back on it now, and ever so modestly casting myself as Elizabeth Bennet, I could see that discovering this journal had been like the arrival of the Bingleys: a call to adventure. And, in my own clumsy manner, I'd answered. Eventually.
The charming little book had sat, waiting patiently on the shelf with my own, marginally less dusty, treasure trove of Austen novels until I could no longer resist the allure of that miniature door and those tea-stained, cinnamon-scented pages. Clearly I'd jinxed myself.
Glancing somewhat nervously toward the kitchen timer digitally counting down the seconds ... 9:56 ... 55 ... 54 ... 53 ... I shifted my gaze back to the seemingly innocuous book that was quickly becoming quite the little nemesis. With cupcakes in the oven (my signature contribution to next door's weekly karaoke shindig), I had time to kill ... and no legitimate excuse not to take another look.
One wide-eyed glance was all it took—now I was officially freaked. The page looked exactly the same as it had fifteen seconds ago but distinctly, disturbingly different from the way it had the day I wrote it. And therein lay the rub—not to mention the weirdness. Because how could it be different?
Goose bumps cropped up on my arms as I tried to focus on the scattering of words remaining. As I read them in order, left to right and down the page, my heartbeat kicked up in my chest, deep, ominous thuds. There were twelve words left.
Miss Nicola James will be sensible and indulge in a little romance.
It was either an extraordinary coincidence ... or not. And the "not" was what scared me.
I had to admit, I hadn't taken particular notice of my choice of words when I'd penned the one and only entry almost a week ago, but now that they were gone, I wanted them back. It was the damn principle of the thing! Well, that and the creepiness.
I forced myself to slow down and think calmly. I peered more closely at the page, running my fingers over its unmarred smoothness. Tilting the little volume back and forth, I noticed nothing but pristine blank paper spanning the gaps the missing words had left behind. There was nothing—no marks. No smudges, smears, eraser marks, nothing. No sign that the rest of the words had ever been there. My words—some of them anyway—had completely disappeared. But how? And equally curious ... why?
I skimmed ahead a few pages, just checking—for what, I had no idea—and then suddenly, rabidly obsessed, whipped through every single page, searching for any sort of marking at all. Common sense didn't bother to kick in until I'd finished. What was I thinking? That somehow my words were playing hide and seek, waiting for me to come searching?
8:13 ... Timing myself definitely wasn't helping!
Focus. What did I know? I'd written a single entry, stashed the journal in the bookcase to be guarded between the Misses Bennet and Woodhouse, and it had been hijacked.
I think that about summed it up: Basically I knew absolutely nothing other than this was my journal, and somebody was messing with me—and doing so at their own peril. But who? No one knew about the journal, and no one of my acquaintance had the skill set necessary to pull something like this off. They'd need dodgy breaking-and-entering skills to get the journal (having somehow first discovered its existence), an impressive knack for wordplay, and access to Mission Impossible–style office products to obliterate all superfluous words into mind-blowing nonexistence. By now, I was leaning heavily toward adopting Vizzini's "Inconceivable" mantra. (And it totally meant what I thought it meant.)
7:22 ... Think ... think! It occurred to me that Nancy Drew would have had this case solved by now, so what was I, a top-ofmy-class engineering major and MBA grad, missing? I let my eyes roam around the room. This wasn't the sort of place where unexpected, magical things happened. Everything that happened here was practical and preplanned. And until tonight, it all made complete sense! I needed a connection, an explanation ... basically a "Why Me?"
I dragged my eyes back to the page to scan it yet again, and this time, I made myself focus on the words themselves.
Ms. Nicola James will be sensible(!) and indulge in a little romance?
It would seem that the journal had been soaking up inspiration as it sat, unsupervised, alongside my much-loved collection of Austen novels all week long. Now I just needed a single man in possession of a good fortune, and I was good to go. To continue the metaphor likening the appearance of the journal to that of the Bingleys, this snarky bit of commentary could be viewed as the introduction of Mr. Darcy, spouting off unnecessarily.
Forgetting for a minute the stranger-than-fiction details of this whole situation, I was offended now on a whole other level. I was nothing if not sensible, but I wasn't about to be prodded into "indulging" until I was good and ready. And yet, perversely, I was impressed. I didn't remember using half of those words in my own entry, but obviously I had, because there they were, big as life, taunting me in my very own handwriting.
A glance at the clock had me thudding back into a near stupor of helplessness. The antiques store was a no-go until tomorrow afternoon. Surely there was something I could be doing about this predicament right now.... Then it hit me: I'd re-create my original entry and get it back, fully intact. How that might help, I couldn't imagine—I was simply driven by a desperation to put things back the way I'd left them, the way they made sense.
Thrilled to have a specific task to perform, I scrambled to get a pen, then changed my mind and grabbed a pencil instead—one with a good chunky eraser.
My ringtone blithely sounded off from the kitchen counter, and I jerked nervously away from it. Glancing at the journal, my decision was instantaneous: I was sooo not telling anyone about this. Scrabbling for the phone, my greeting came out as something of a croak.
"Good, I caught you." As usual, Gabe was oblivious. I could hear his fingers clicking over a keyboard and assumed he was still at work. My gaze shifted curiously to the timer yet again.
Gabe was my best friend, and maybe that should have entitled him to a juicy divulgence, but he was also an engineer, not to mention a coworker, and his mind worked, more or less, the same way mine did. Seeing as I'd already classified this whole situation as un-freakin'-believable, I really didn't need, and couldn't stomach, his second opinion. I decided to stay mum, perched against the counter, a watchful eye on the journal.
"I assume you're aware that South by Southwest kicks off tonight," Gabe continued when I hadn't spoken.
"Aware, yes; indifferent, also yes." I wasn't the type to get excited about the city's annual movie slash music fest, no matter how prestigious.
Gabe ignored me. "So the music part of the festival doesn't start till next week, but some of the bands arrived early and scored some extra gigs."
I'd tease him for using the word "gig," but I needed to speed things up here.
"So ... ?" I heard myself asking, my feigned interest the closest I intended on coming to any plans he might have for me that evening.
"So I'm heading down to Fadó with a couple of expats and a guy in from Glasgow, and I thought you might like to come. It's a Scottish band." With Austin nicknamed Silicon Hills and Glasgow dubbed Silicon Glen, many companies operated sister facilities, here and across the pond, creating somewhat of a foreign exchange program for the high-tech set.
"You are not trying to set me up." Less of a question, more of a stern reminder.
"God no. I'm just offering you an evening of men with accents."
And here I'd thought my best chance of going international tonight was a lawn full of lesbians salsaing to a karaoke rendition of "Livin' La Vida Loca."
"I think I'll pass, but you get points for a good, solid effort."
"Ah, come on, Nic—don't pass. You can't expect to earn a Weird shirt by missing eight consecutive years of South by Southwest."
"Why not? In this particular instance, I'm the epitome of weird." My eyes skimmed over the journal and quickly darted away. "Who else would choose questionable backyard karaoke over a legitimate Scottish band?"
"You're going next door?" Cue massive sigh.
"Of course. I've got cupcakes baking as we speak."
"Never mind that you need an intervention more than you need another cupcake." I started to react, but it quickly became clear that this was just his starter jab. "You're. Not. A. Lesbian. Nic. And you wouldn't karaoke for a hundred bucks." That was true. Sad, but true. "So what in the hell are you doing over there every Friday night?" And then he lapsed into absurdity: "Are they brainwashing you? Luring you into some sort of sexual cult? Should I come over?"
I rolled my eyes and responded accordingly. "Don't worry—it's nothing I can't handle. Just a little girl-on-girl action."
After a couple beats of uncharacteristic silence, Gabe eventually surfaced. "Okay, I'm getting a sarcastic vibe here, and it's throwing me off."
"Wishful thinking doesn't make it so, Gabe. Remember that."
"Damn. I thought not. So how exactly do the weekly lesbian potlucks fit in with the Nic James Life Plan?"
By now immune to Gabe's (and everyone else's) disdain for my carefully considered, down-to-the-detail life plan, I answered matter-of-factly. "It's actually a rather elegant solution. As you've just pointed out, I'm not a lesbian. As a result, I'm relatively immune to their charms. So no strings attached. Ingenious, huh?"
"I guess. Define 'relatively.'" I ignored this too. "Are there gonna be any guys there, trying to coax a few back to our team?" He sounded positively titillated over such an opportunity.
"Nope. And I consider that a definite draw." My patience was drying up.
"Are men even allowed?"
"Only for the occasional ritual sacrifice. Now I really—"
Gabe's laugh blasted back over the phone line, and I imagined him throwing back his head to punctuate the jocularity. For someone so obviously opposed to my attending these Friday night gettogethers, he seemed vicariously enthralled.
"Gabe, I gotta go."
"Okay, but I hear these guys are good. If, as you claim, you are still playing for our team, maybe they could get you off the bench."
The corners of my mouth began to curl despite my best efforts. "I'll suit up next season," I parried, nudging a spatula through the bowl of ganache sitting beside me on the counter, looking dangerously delicious.
"Are you telling me that men are on your agenda for next year?"
"I thought I was being lured out for a night of Austin culture and camaraderie?" As opposed to a night of Austen culture and camaraderie with my traitorous journal.
"Just sayin' ..."
"Anything's possible," I allowed, suddenly distinctly uncomfortable with that admission, given what I'd been dealing with for the past quarter hour. "Bye, Gabe. Have fun tonight." I hung up before hearing his reply, just as the timer went off.
Retrieving the cupcakes, I set them on the baking rack to cool, swiped a finger through the ganache, and dropped back down at the kitchen table. I glared at the offending journal page and its few remaining survivors and underlined each of them with a short, sharp motion.
Then suddenly I remembered. My one-entry stint as a journaler had sprung from plans to attend a coworker's wedding this weekend—tomorrow, in fact. And the reality that I'd been going alone.
Miss Nicola James, 1 will attend.
Tentatively at first, I let my mind play through some possibilities. I mouthed the words and tapped my pencil over the page, checking the spacing. Within seconds, I was feeling very déjà vu.
I'm going solo. As per The Plan. Sure it'd be kinda nice to have a date, but I'm not sure I'm ready for the complications just yet. Besides, I'll do just fine on my own.
Excerpted from Austentatious by Alyssa Goodnight Copyright © 2012 by Alyssa Goodnight. Excerpted by permission of KENSINGTON BOOKS. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Posted March 2, 2013
NOTE TO THOSE WHO HATE PLOT-SPOILERS (who does???): It's kind of obvious -- DON'T READ A LONG REVIEW -- I learned early on NOT to read them for just that reason. Just look at the amount of stars -- if people liked it, they liked it. Done. If you DO start to read a review, you usually know if its a plot-spoiler before you get to "The butler did it!" So stop reading as soon as you know. Just my humble suggestion...
7 out of 14 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted August 29, 2012
Posted February 21, 2012
Posted January 11, 2013
I didn't finish this one. The writing is rather junior-high, as if meant for teenagers. The characters are one-note and caricaturish. I was never drawn in enough to bother. Spend your money on something like "the Man Who Loved Jane Austen" instead.
5 out of 8 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted April 17, 2012
So wonderfully good.
I really, really loved this book! It hooked me from the very beginning and didn't release me until the very end.
When I first read the synopsis of this book, I immediately thought of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. (I am a huge Harry Potter geek fan. So anytime a connection can be made, it usually pops in my head.) I loved that once I hit chapter 3 of this book, there was a Harry Potter reference and Luna Lovegood zing! But, this book was so much more than my initial thought and so much better.
The journal wisdom from "Fairy Jane" was really creative. The wisdom helped Nicola do things she would not normally do...especially if those things deviated from her "Plan." I kept rooting for Sean ever since his first appearance at the wedding. I wanted Nicola to chuck "the Plan" and follow her heart and "Fairy Jane's" advice. I cared and I wanted her to find her happiness. And Sean was a great character. I could hear his accent, see his smirk (and him in a kilt!), and I could feel the emotions that he sent through Nicola.
When Nicola kept going for Brett, I wanted to smack her upside the head. Really? Brett? Really?!? The lunch date was enough to stop any of that crazy talk about how perfect Brett is.
The supporting characters were fun. Beck was a great confidante and it was enjoyable to see the mentor turn into the mentee when things went beyond her comfort zone. The neighbors were a bit annoying but fit in well with the story. Gabe was Gabe...that perfect guy friend.
And really, anyone who can reference The Princess Bride, Harry Potter, and The Gods Must Be Crazy along side the great Jane Austen all within the first 5 chapters is okay in my book!
Would I recommend it: I would definitely recommend it, especially if you are a fan of Jane Austen and you enjoy books that are about Jane Austen. (Who doesn't love Jane Austen?!?!?)
Will I read it again: This book has most definitely made my to be reread every year list...up there with Pride and Prejudice, the Harry Potter series, and a few others!
5 out of 9 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted February 13, 2012
Keeping Austin Weird, plays in this story so well. Delightful, funny and mind boggling as our heroine journeys through Austin in search of answers about a mysterious journal that may have belong to 'THE' Jane Austen. Ms Goodnight wove the story well, with interesting side characters and plots. Oh, and I loved the aspect of Jane Austen in the book. I'm getting two more copies for my daughters.
5 out of 6 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted February 2, 2012
I was looking forward to this release for it's interesting story line and I wasn't disappointed. It was fun and really enjoyable.
4 out of 6 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted May 5, 2012
There is nothing wrong with the grammar or editing of this book, hence the two stars. But aside from that I found nothing to appeal. I have to admit this is purely personal: I hate scattered, fluttery, and most of all silly characters and an entire book centered around one was just too much to bear. Not to mention that these were one of Jane Austen's favourite types of people to skewer as well (think: a young, modern version of Mrs. Bennett). So, a whole book written with a complete lack of irony for someone like that as the main character? No, thank you. "Austen" needs to be taken off the cover.
2 out of 4 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted March 25, 2012
How does a magic journal fit into the life of a girl who has her life already planned? This book will sweep you away into Nic's planned world that turns it upside down and leading her on a journey into a romance she never planned. A wonderful book to curl up with for the weekend and leaves you wishing you had a little magic journal of your own...
2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted March 6, 2012
Austentatious! What a fun, hot novel! I was swept up in a whirlwind of kooky advice, humorous characters and steamy romance.
When Nicola James beings writing in an antique-looking diary, her life begins to change. Once her journal begins writing back, she must decide if she is going to cling to normalcy, predictability, and her life plan, or throw caution to the wind and cross over to the weird side. After all, the unofficial motto of her hometown, Austin, Texas, is “Keep Austin Weird.” And who knows, maybe she will finally get her “weird” t-shirt.
Helping Nicola along her journey are her friends, who truly added to the exuberance and humor of the story. For starters, there are Nic’s neighbors, Leslie and Laura. Leslie’s salacious humor and superfluous use of clichés garnered many laughs and shakes of the head accompanied by eye rolls. Throw in Nic’s mentee Bec, best friend Gabe, and co-worker Brett, and the smiles and laughs abound. Finally, there is Sean MacInnes with his wealth of innuendoes and one-liners, guaranteed to make any girl blush.
I enjoyed watching Nic’s inner struggle as her life is turned upside down by Fairy Jane’s wisdom. Here, Nic must decide if she should pursue the logical and sensible Brett, who conveniently fits into her life plan, or take a chance on the charming and confident Sean MacInnes, who may just be another Henry Crawford.
Speaking of men. Oh! My! Word! Can Alyssa Goodnight write some steamy and sexy scenes?! We’re talking heart beating out of my chest, palms getting sweaty, feeling a little hot reaction here (and nothing physical has even happened). I was so wrapped up in the romance and action of the book that I seriously felt I was the one being asked out on a first date. All of those heart-fluttering emotions a girl feels at this moment, the excitement, the anticipation, the uncertainty, came rushing back. I may have even swooned a time or two!
Not only does Goodnight write hot characters and fully engage my passion, but she is overall a talented writer. The literary elements were well-delivered, yet not overdone. Her alliterative words add to the humor, and she takes an analogy or two and carries them through the entire plot, further solidifying those connections. I enjoyed seeing the connection between the analogies and events in the book as it helped me to further understand what the characters were experiencing.
Austentatious was the first book by Alyssa Goodnight that I read, and it will certainly not be my last! I look forward to reading her other novel, Unladylike Pursuits .
2 out of 7 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted March 2, 2013
Posted March 2, 2013
To the snarky poster and his humble opinion to not read plot spoilers....wow...what a concept! Duh! Well. Let me fill you in on a surprise. I do not read plot spoilers. But i do sight read and when i have to scroll past the looooooong plot spoilers i always end up seeing something that spoils the books for me. So there goes your unique concept to not read them. Thanjs anyway for your humble opinion. Next time, keep it to yourself.
1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted May 8, 2012
Posted on Romancing the Book's blog
Review Copy Provided by~Arc from Publisher
Having never read any of Jane Austen’s books I was a little nervous that I would be totally confused and lost reading this. I am very pleased to tell you I was not; I enjoyed it very much actually. There were references to her novels, but they were made in such a way that I got the gist of what was meant. I am sure if you are a Jane Austen fan those same references would probably have more meaning to you. After reading this I now have some of Jane’s books on my reading list.
From the beginning I thought Austentatious was funny and charming. This book had a nice pace and the characters were very likable. Nicola’s character was one I could relate to very much. She is practical and logical but deep in her heart she is a dreamer and wants love and romance as much as anyone else. Sean is definitely a man I would love to meet in real life. He was so sweet and playful with a little bad boy swirled in. I could not help but pray for the happy ending for them both. There were other characters that also held my attention and I wanted to know what was happening to them also. I loved the chapter names it was a wonderful touch that added something different and surprising that I don’t see very often. I would definitely recommend this to any romance reader it was fun and there wasn’t too much angst. This was a light and enjoyable read. I will definitely be looking forward to more Alyssa Goodnight titles.
Favorite Quote: At this point in our acquaintance, his nerve didn’t even faze me, but despite the runaway thrill that went coursing through me, I felt the need to call him on it. “You really have a knack for those one-liners, don’t you? A perfect mix of charming and presumptuous so that a girl doesn’t know quite how to take you.”
“I’m not at all picky. Just take me.”
1 out of 3 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted February 17, 2012
“ Miss Nicola James will be sensible and indulge in a little romance.” Twelve little words in a journal, the problem being that Nicola had written several paragraphs earlier and this is all that was left. Nicola is a straight-laced engineer living in Austin Texas. She is probably one of very few people who doesn’t own one of the city’s signature Weird t-shirts. She has a PLAN for her life and she is going to stick to it.
The plan starts to derail when she purchases a small antique journal that seems to be taking her words and shrinking them magically down into advice about her life. Where are the phrases coming from? Nicola ‘s plan takes a hit when she doesn’t get a hoped for work promotion and then her potential romance with a co-worker gets pushed aside when she meets Sean McInnes, a sexy Scotsman who sings in a band. Sean in in Austin to sing is a music festival and meets Nicola at a wedding. There is instant chemistry between them but he is not part of the plan and has to work hard to get Nicola to agree to the first date.
This is a lovely romance between a woman who never deviates from her plan and a man who is a motorcycle driving free wheeler. The journal gives Nicola permission to do things she wouldn’t have done on her own. When she finds out more about the journal and discovers just how magical it really is, her faith in the advice gets stronger. Sean is a sexy, irrepressible man who makes Nicola enjoy her life and rely less on the plan. He even agrees to her request that he wear a kilt on one of their dates. Be still my heart!
Nicola has a sensibility relapse and that causes some problems but it all works out. Nicola and Sean make a great couple and the reader enjoys watching their romance unfold. The whole journal plot adds another layer to the story and is totally believable. I wish I could find a journal like that. Being an Austen fan, I enjoyed the concept of Jane passing on her sage advice to someone who really needed it. That said, this romance will work for all types of readers not just Austen fans. Enjoy!
1 out of 6 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted April 20, 2014
Posted February 1, 2014
I struggled to finish this for some reason. I love Jane Austen books so I like to read spinoffs and retellings occassionally. This one was just kinda too quirky for me and I lost interest multiple times. I dont think I would recommend, even for Austen lovers. Maybe if you live in Austin because that is a lot of what is talked about, all the local smocal stuff.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted September 4, 2013
Posted August 10, 2013
Posted June 24, 2013
After a bit of a slow start, the story began to get interesting. And, I admit it, it is a bit too sachrine in places and the characters are a tad bit too impetuous (really, after only one week?!) But I guess that's what Jane Austen is all about. I'm a "wee bit" interested in what the next story in the series comes up with.
Posted June 20, 2013