It’s more than her wit that’s biting…

1797, England. After a fateful encounter at a provincial assembly, Jane Austen becomes one of the Damned, the beautiful, ruthless fashionable vampires of Georgian England. The waters of Bath are the only known cure. But when the French invade, Jane finds that being Damned, fanged, and dangerous to know has its advantages in the battle that turns the city into a blood bath. But when England is saved, Jane must make a choice. Love and immortality? Or writing and everything else she holds dear in her mortal life?

I was thrilled to be invited to write an Austen-paranormal mashup for HarperCollins and came up with the wildest idea I could. I was excited but also scared. This was Jane Austen, the Jane Austen I was writing about, going around biting people and generally behaving, well, like a vampire.

But if you’ve ever wondered why Jane Austen knew so much about sexual attraction, and why she could invent characters like the Crawfords or Willoughby or Wickham, people who exploit and feed off others, it’s obvious that Jane knew a great deal about vampires as well as the ways of the human heart.

In this excerpt, Jane is initiated into the etiquette of dining (the polite term for feeding. A glossary of terms follows).

She gazed at his neck, at the pale skin with a hint of stubble where his razor had missed a spot. She had never been so close to a gentleman before—but of course she had, when William had created her, although she remembered it only as a swirl of confusing, startling pleasure.

“Don’t be afraid,” Luke said. “You decide when you are to bite. Slowly. Allow your canines to sink in; it’s easier than a wrist, the skin is softer. Ah, very good.”

She whimpered as his blood flowed onto her tongue, a sweet flood of power, before pulling away. She breathed on his neck, licking the last drops. “I can’t drink any more from you.”

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re so sad.”

He grinned and wrapped an arm around her waist. “On the contrary, my dear, I am quite cheered at the moment.”

“Consider the gravitas of your position as my Bearleader, sir.”

“You are quite right. I am behaving disgracefully.” He released her, and pulled his shirt front straight.

“Not a drop spilled,” she said, cheered by her success.

“Excellent. Now remember that if the person is excited, which invariably he will be, the blood will pulse. Take care not to choke and pray he has not eaten onions recently.” He handed her her fan.

“How will I know when to stop?”

“You’ll know. If you seem a little too, ah, enthusiastic, I shall let you know. I shall be nearby.” He rose and, pulling his coat on, walked to the sideboard where a decanter of wine and wineglasses stood. “Some Madeira? Now, others will be dining when you enter the drawing room. Pray do not express too much interest; it will be considered excessively vulgar. In particular you must avoid meeting the eye of one who dines, for he or she will consider it a request to join. Since you are a fledgling it would be monstrously improper of you to solicit an invitation thus, and you should await for one senior to you to make a proper introduction—”

“Good heavens!” cried Jane, nearly choking on her wine. “It reminds me of a Basingstoke assembly!”

“As I was saying–if, on the other hand, another of us invites you to join, it is considered proper to accept, for it is a high honor. If you wish to decline, you may do so by bowing your head and dropping a curtsy.”

“And at what point should I remove my gloves?” Jane asked, struggling to keep a straight face.

Luke shot her a stern glance. “If one of the mortals requests you dine from him or her, you must be careful they do not ask to stir up trouble between us. Some of our group are jealous of mortals they consider their own.” He added, “Unless it is Ann, for she is with the household, although Clarissa tends to regard her as her property. Apparently Ann has a certain way of darning stockings that is most rare.”

“I see,” Jane said, again suppressing a smile. “But she does not darn stockings while one dines upon her, I think.”

A Glossary of the Damned

en sanglant: to be aroused; to have one’s canines extend. Involuntary and uncontrolled en sanglant is considered vulgar and ill-bred.

to dine: to feed upon mortals, who consider it a high honor and greatly pleasurable.

Bearleader: a combination chaperone/mentor who teaches the young fledgling correct etiquette and manners. The Bearleader is generally, but not always, the Creator of the fledgling vampire; the one who turned (created) him or her.