Gentlemen of Gloucestershire is Now Live

Happy Labor Day! It's a special day for me despite going into the office, since Gentlemen of Gloucestershire is now live here on the blog and my various fan fiction profiles online. It's only Chapter 1 so far, but for once I am posting a story that is already fully written, so I promise this series will not be abandoned. All 31 chapters are finished and scheduled to post.

Moving forward, if you want to read each chapter as early as possible, subscribe to my blog to get them delivered straight to your inbox or RSS reader (if anyone still uses RSS feeds). For example, Chapter 2 is slated to appear this Wednesday September 8, with Chapter 3 to follow on Saturday September 11.

On Monday September 13, I'll drop both those chapters on FanFiction.net, Archive of our Own, and the Derbyshire Writers' Guild. I expect to get more hits/comments on these sites, given their existing higher traffic, but also want to encourage participation here on the blog. So every Monday I'll post something new about writing the novel, Northanger Abbey, or Jane Austen in general. I already have the 13th's post topic prepped: exploring the floorplan I designed for Woodston Parsonage (don't all authors have fictional blueprints drawn up for their stories?)

If you're already reading along, thanks! I'd be glad of any social media coverage if you're enjoying it, pointing either here or to my various fan fiction accounts (hashtag #NASeqGG).

As an extra bonus for my blog readers, and in celebration of the holiday, here's an excerpt from Chapter 2.

The tea things came in, giving her something to do, and she was able to hand over the captain's cup with some composure. "You must be staying at Northanger Abbey," she said, taking up her own saucer and spoon.

"For the time being. In truth I may not be there above the rest of the week."

"I trust you had a pleasant ride."

"Tolerable. It is a very dull country on the whole."

"But there are many splendid paths," Catherine defended her home, on firmer footing when it came to terrain she had wandered so often in recent months. "And I am sure you will find it so, as you continue your travels."

Not taking her hint, the captain settled more firmly in his chair. "As to that, I may not venture any farther. Tell me, does Henry leave you alone often?"

This question stopped Catherine's next thought, so that she nearly spilled the milk she had been about to pour. She uttered a quick denial and then, as she was a truthful person, admitted, "That is, not often, but sometimes. He must see to the parish." Rallying her wits, she added, "He will likely be out most of the day. I will be glad to tell him you have called and convey any message you care to give."

"I do not believe there is anything you need tell him. But to be left alone must be tiresome, given the lack of any decent entertainment or company."

"No indeed, there is so much to do every day, far more than at my parents' home, and it was not always quiet there either. And I am not alone, of course."

"Not now. How fortunate that I came by, when anyone might have stumbled upon your door otherwise. It is not wise to forsake a fair lady."

The compliment quite passed Catherine's notice, though a vainer woman might have revelled that a man who once thought her plain should now condescend to praise her. Instead, every moment he continued in the room increased her agitation, and she wished she could think of an excuse to send him away. But she had enough good breeding to shrink from such incivility to a member of the family, and recollecting how she herself had been so unceremoniously dismissed once, forbore to indulge her feelings. She persevered in her duties as hostess by asking:

"Will you be on leave long?"

It was an innocuous question, one she was proud to have worked out as it was not a common inquiry for her to make and which would hopefully show interest in her brother's affairs. But rather than animate any expressions of gratitude or pleasure, his features tightened into a cruel sneer. "Perhaps," he said slowly, with a bitterness that made her involuntarily shrink back. "But I do not wish to discuss it."

Nothing in the world would make Catherine broach the subject again, and without anything else to discuss she made some comment about the weather.