Back to Top

Author Archives: Janet Mullany

My next book, the second about Jane Austen as a (part-time/temporary) vampire, Jane Austen: Blood Persuasion, is released in October, 2011 and I thought you’d like to see the beauteous cover. I love it! Note the bat-shaped pen and Jane’s fang.

It’s set in 1810, when Jane, with her mother, sister and best friend are living in Chawton and Jane is about to get down to some serious writing. But then, as so often happens in Austen’s own novels, new tenants lease Chawton Great House, owned by one of Jane’s brothers.

Here’s the beginning of the book:

Chawton, Hants, 1810

“She’s an extraordinarily troublesome girl,” the Reverend James Austen said.

Jane watched in fascination as the girl in question, her niece Anna, pulled a hideous face at her father, an expression that lasted only a second before her pretty face resumed its normal sweetness.

“Come, brother, you’d rather have her commit folly at twenty-seven than seventeen?”

“I was sixteen when it started, Aunt Jane,” Anna said.

“Indeed, a whole year of foolishness.” James stood as his mother entered the drawing room. “How goes the garden, ma’am? I have brought you some cuttings; your garden boy has them.”

“You did? Heavens, he’ll probably kill them by looking at them. What possessed your brother to send me that boy I cannot imagine. He’s all thumbs and none of them green. Come now, James, give your old mother a kiss. And you, too, Miss Anna, you must help me in the garden.”

James frowned at the display of affection between Mrs. Austen and her granddaughter. “She is here to reflect upon her foolishness and inconstancy, ma’am, not to enjoy herself.”

“Oh, of course,” Jane murmured. “But you hate gardening, do you not, Anna? And going for walks, and playing upon the pianoforte, and talking nonsense, and reading novels, for that is all we do here, I fear.”

“Hmm.” As James spoke Jane saw a quick glance of affection between father and daughter, quickly masked. “I had in mind some improving literature and early nights.”

“Naturally. Bread and water we can supply too, James. Never fear. We shall be the consummate jailers.”

“Oh, stop talking nonsense and make tea for us, Jane.” Mrs. Austen removed the wide-brimmed, unfashionable straw hat she wore for gardening. “We shall keep Anna busy, you may be assured, and fortunately there are no eligible bachelors in Chawton.”

“Indeed, yes,” Jane said, measuring tea into the teapot. “For Mr. Papillon is destined for me, you know. If you set your cap at him I shall be most displeased, Anna, and send you packing off home to Steventon again.”

“Really? You have a beau, Aunt Jane?”

“Your aunt is funning you.” James, softening a little, winked at his sister. “How goes the scribbling, Jenny?”

“Fair enough. Gallons of ink, acres of paper, and every morning my sister and mother and Martha have to wade through my torn out hair a foot deep on the dining room floor. I thank you for asking, brother.”

“I’m not so sure it wasn’t novels that caused all this trouble in the first place,” James said. “They contain much romantic silliness.”

“Oh, heaven forbid we should act as rational creatures,” Jane said. “Do you think we do not know the difference between fact and fiction, James? That all we read in novels is but a fantasy of the life we lead, and we such poor creatures we cannot tell the difference? And,” she added, “mine don’t contain romantic silliness. Silliness, possibly. Romance, possibly. But the two together? Impossible.”

Enjoy and hope to see many of you in NYC next week!

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , | 9 Replies

M.O.M knows best … sometimes. We’re thrilled to welcome to the Riskies debut author Christina Brooks with her new release HEIRESS IN LOVE, and she’s offering a signed copy to one lucky commenter!

Christina, welcome and tell us about your book.

Hi Riskies! Hi Janet! Thanks so much for having me with you today. The blurb says it so well:

When the Ministry of Marriage arranges a match, all that matters is power, wealth and prestige. In the business of marriage, there is no room for love. But even the most prudent plans can go awry…

A Convenient Marriage

Jane, Lady Roxdale, has endured one marriage of convenience decreed by the Ministry of Marriage. While she deeply regrets her late husband’s death, she is relieved to be free at last. But when a dissolute rake threatens everything Jane holds dear, she must contemplate marrying a second time…

An Inconvenient Passion

Disgraced libertine Constantine Black inherits his cousin Roxdale’s land and title–while Roxdale’s prim widow is left all the wealth. Constantine is not a marrying man, but wedding Jane is the only way to save the estate from ruin. Jane resists the smoldering heat between them, desperate not to fall in love with an unrepentant rake. But for the first time ever, Constantine wants more than seduction. He wants all of her–body, heart, and soul…

How many books are in the series and who’s up next?

At the moment, I’m contracted to write three books in the Ministry of Marriage series for the Westruther cousins. HEIRESS IN LOVE (Jane’s story, 28 June 2011), MAD ABOUT THE EARL (Rosamund’s story, 3 January 2012) and A DUCHESS TO REMEMBER (Cecily’s story, July 2012). I hope the series goes on for another three books so I can write the Westruther men’s stories, too.

As you know we’re research geeks here, so please share any interesting research that came your way when you were writing the book.

I researched quite a bit about the Cotswold woollen mills, which were surprisingly handsome buildings, and a lot about the region’s sheep which didn’t make it into the book. I’m sure readers will be relieved to hear that! It’s amazing how serendipity plays a part in the writing of novels. It rained non-stop where I live while I was writing this book and the rain found its way into the book itself. I wanted a local disaster to occur and in the course of my research I discovered an interesting tidbit. Often, a number of mills were built along the one stream and some unscrupulous mill owners would dam the stream on their property to stop the water flowing to other mills downstream, thereby putting those other mills out of business. This dovetailed nicely with the incessant rain that was already a theme in the book and the resulting flood is a huge turning point for my hero. I suppose that’s a spoiler but not a fatal one, I hope!

What do you love about the Regency period?

I love the clash between romantic idealism and the importance of making a good match–that’s what Pride and Prejudice is all about, after all. By contrast to modern times, where we all seem to air our every thought and whim on a daily basis through Twitter and Facebook, there is a lot of constraint placed on lovers in the Regency era. I love the intensity of romantic conflict that seems to go hand in hand with that constraint. I also enjoy finding a way for my heroine to be an independent thinker with a sure sense of self-worth without the crutch of a career to fall back on. It forces me to think hard about what it is that makes my heroine–or any woman–fulfilled.

I also admire what you might call ‘Regency style’ — the fashion, the interiors, the classical elegance of the era. And I love the dry wit and banter that seems to fit so well into Regency historicals.

What don‘t you love about the Regency period?

Finding an appropriately foul swear word for dire occasions that is also true to the era is terribly difficult! “Damn” sounds quite tame to the modern reader. I also have an ambivalent relationship with the rigid class structure of the period. Of course, the fantasy of having wealth and servants at one’s command is part of the lure of the Regency historical but sometimes I find the enormity of that disparity uncomfortable. I think perhaps as a result of that, my books focus on the romantic relationship against the backdrop of family, not against the backdrop of wider social concerns. I feel that any ‘solution’ I presented to those social problems would seem trite. And you do need resolution in romance novels, I think, or at least, in the kind of romance novel I write.

What writers have influenced you?

When I was ten or so, I saw the play version of Pride and Prejudice and fell instantly in love with both Austen’s writing and the era. My mother introduced me to the Brontes and Georgette Heyer. Thackeray’s Vanity Fair is a favorite, and Fielding’s Tom Jones, too. I think Susan Elizabeth Phillips writes magnificent heroes and wonderfully satisfying romance. I learn more from her every time I read her books.

What book are you currently reading?

I always have more than one book on the go. At the moment, I’m reading Tess Gerritsen’s STOLEN, Julie Ann Long’s I KISSED AN EARL, Elizabeth Peters’ RIVER IN THE SKY (on audio book) and Donald Maass’s WRITING THE BREAKOUT NOVEL (which I’ve read several times).

What’s your ideal research trip?

Oh, where to start!? My current WIP is set in London, so I think I’d probably begin there. There is an excellent book called something like Georgette Heyer’s Regency London. I’d love to visit every place in that book! I’d probably go up to Scotland, too, as I’ve never been there and my grandmother was half Scot by blood but wholly Scottish in her heart *G*.

Whose portraits did you use for the Westruthers section on your Ministry of Marriage page?

I had to quickly chase these details down again so I hope I have them right! The Duke of Montford is actually William Wilberforce, by Thomas Lawrence. Lady Jane Westruther is the Duchess of Berry (Lawrence), Lady Rosamund Westruther is Jane Digby. I’m not as happy with the men’s portraits. It’s not easy to get men as devastatingly handsome as I imagined my Westruther men! But the Earl of Beckenham and Viscount Lydgate are unknown miniatures I found on the internet (I think) and the Marquis of Steyne is David Lyon by Lawrence. I can’t seem to track down Lady Cecily’s name, just that it is a portrait of a ‘young girl’ again, by Lawrence. That one is my favourite — the young girl’s personality leaps off the page.

Thank you for having me on Risky Regencies today! I would love to ask your readers a question:

If you were a heroine in one of my novels and your marriage was being arranged, what’s the one quality in your husband that is not negotiable? One lucky reader will win a signed copy of HEIRESS IN LOVE!


Given the choice between the Battle of Waterloo and father’s day, dads win hands down. I’ve blogged before about the horrible casualty rate of that day and, although we’ve made a big celebration of Waterloo in the past, I think we should remind both his grace and his excellency not to stage a major battle two weeks before RWA Nationals!

So, fathers. They don’t do too well in fiction. In the words of Katha Pollitt, in her poem ReReading Jane Austen’s Novels, Papa’s/a sort of genial, pampered lunatic, and I think that’s a tradition that’s stuck with us. Some do it better than others–Miranda Neville‘s brilliant Mr. Montrose and his weighing fixation, for instance, in The Dangerous Viscount. He is, unlike most of Austen’s fathers, mostly harmless.

Quoting Katha Pollitt again, This time round, they didn’t seem so comic. So let’s take a look at Austen’s fathers, surprisingly creative for a woman whose own father was intelligent, affectionate, and well-respected.

Dead and/or fiscally irresponsible. Mr. Dashwood, you really should have sorted out the business of your wife’s and daughter’s inheritance rather than leaving it up to your son and his wife. Mr. Bennet, get out of the library and see to your investments. Mr. Price, put that bottle down now and give Mrs. Price a rest (if you know what I mean and I think you do). And would it kill you to lend a hand around the house?

Generally unpleasant. Sir Thomas Bertram, I’ve always thought you’re a bit creepy in your interest in Fanny Price. Back off! General Tilney, you’re a jerk. You may have thought Catherine an airhead but she wasn’t that far off the mark, despite her head being filled with gothic nonsense. Sir Walter Elliot, you’re just plain dumb, and you should listen to Anne for a change.

Weird. Verging on the monstrous, yes, I’m talking about you, Mr. Woodhouse. You’d only be happy if you could imprison your daughter for life in your fantasy world of fear, besieged by illness and bloodthirsty foxes. After all, the chickens may only have been the beginning… Two got away (one daughter and one governess) and you don’t want to let Emma go. In your way you’re almost as bad as General Tilney.

Mostly harmless. Only one comes to mind, The Rev. Moreland. (Can you think of any more?)

Do you have any fictitious fathers you love to hate or, gasp, even any favorite fathers in Austen or romance?

It’s been a funny sort of week.

First, chez Mullany most of the contents of the kitchen are strewn around the living/dining room. I have a really small house so you sort of notice when you find the toaster on the sofa or you start looking for a clean plate on a chair and find very ancient containers of spices under the table. This is because we have had a new kitchen ceiling installed and for the first time in years we can now open all the cabinet doors all the way and I’ve cleaned some of the cabinet shelves for the first time in … a very long time. The cat was extremely traumatized by having Men in the house.

I should also announce with pride that I have finally finished unpacking from RWA Nationals last year and had a marathon washing of silk session.

But that’s not what annoys me. No, the number one annoyance of the moment is Austen spelled Austin. Really REALLY REALLY annoying.

Number two, heroes in historicals who fall into one or more of these categories:

1. Marry the heroine without intending to have sex with her (see below).
2. Marry the heroine without intending to have children with her (see below).
3. Don’t want to marry anyone, heroine included, because they have so many cousins, brothers, male relatives of all sizes and shapes they don’t need to provide an heir although they will never be at a loss for sequels (see below).
4. Stride everywhere.

Number four doesn’t actually have anything to do with 1 thru 3 but I must say that all that striding is very tiring for the reader. In some contemporaries I’ve attempted to read both the hero and the heroine, to prove her kickassedness, stride all the time, everywhere. She strode to the bathroom to clean her teeth. She strode to the Mr. Coffee. And so on.

Let’s take a look at the Church of England marriage service. I’m not sure exactly which version of the Book of Common Prayer would have been in use during the Regency, but it would have been something closer to this (1662) than any modern version:

[Marriage] is not by any to be enterprised, nor taken in hand, unadvisedly, lightly, or wantonly, to satisfy men’s carnal lusts and appetites, like brute beasts that have no understanding; but reverently, discreetly, advisedly, soberly, and in the fear of God; duly considering the causes for which Matrimony was ordained.

First, It was ordained for the procreation of children, to be brought up in the fear and nurture of the Lord, and to the praise of his holy Name.

But wait, there’s more.

For a brilliant exposition on the reasons why men married and wanted to marry–not just to avoid fornication, as reason number two in the service says–read Amanda Vickery‘s Behind Closed Doors: At Home in Georgian England.

For a decade or so popular historical imagination has been dominated by two sorts of Georgians. The first are the libertines, the frisky Casanovas who wink knowingly at their unborn Victorian grandchildren before setting off on yet another erotic frolic. The second lot are the tasteful Georgians, the ones who spend all their time polishing their tea caddies and getting giddy on the fancy new fabrics pouring in from the east. Both types might be described as residing behind closed doors. But it is the second group, the curtain-hanging, figurine-fingering kind, whom Amanda Vickery dissects in this brilliant book. Review in The Guardian, 10/24/09.

Marriage, for the Georgian man, represented a state of maturity and social achievement; if you could afford to marry and set up house with the sort of woman who’d strike bargains with warehouse proprietors and wallpaper hangers, the sort of woman defined by Vickery as a “sexy battleaxe” you had arrived. You no longer had to send your laundry home to mama (yes, men really did that), worry about having enough plates for your dinner party, or suffer guilt and remorse about squalid erotic adventures.

So I wonder why romance clings so strongly to the completely historically incorrect picture of the carefree bachelor–or is he really the irresponsible ingrate who won’t even take responsibility for directly siring his heir (he doesn’t have to enjoy it, for god’s sake)? Do you think this is a bit of anti-history that works well for romance? Could you find a hero yearning for a sexy battleaxe to order his domestic life romantic?

I know that I could use a battleaxe, sexy optional, to organize my domestic life at the moment!

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , | 14 Replies