The Confession of Mr. Darcy, Vampire
Books I and II
by Colette L. Saucier
Genre: Paranormal Regency Romance
FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER: The definitive vampire adaptation of Pride and Prejudice and its sultry sequel in one volume!
Books 1 and 2 of the award-winning, international bestselling Confession of Mr. Darcy, Vampire, re-released in this special edition only on eBook for a limited time at an incredible price.
BOOK I: Pulse and Prejudice Elle Magazine selection "A Most Inventive Adaptation" (April, 2016) Austenprose "Readers' Choice, Top 5 Books of the Year" (2012) 1st Place Winner in Category, 2013 Chatelaine Awards Romantic Fiction Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy - elegant, dark, brooding...vampire. The Master of Pemberley tells his haunting tale of unquenchable desire and forbidden love.
"I cannot express enough how skeptical I was upon starting this book. Pride & Prejudice with a touch of vampires was enough to send me into fits of eye rolls. But, within only the first chapter, I found myself strangely drawn to the story. The vampire Darcy weaves his spell quickly." - Austenprose
Book II: Dearest Bloodiest Elizabeth In this lurid, lusty sequel to Pulse and Prejudice, death shadows the newlywed Darcys from Pemberley to the parlors of Regency London to the courtyards of Antebellum New Orleans. As Elizabeth discovers the trials and travails of marriage to a vampire, can Darcy ever believe that she loves him as he is? Or will his jealousy tear them apart?
This is the sequel to Pulse and Prejudice; however, as it is not an Austen adaptation, the reader will find it darker, bloodier, and more provocative than Book 1.
"After taking the plunge into this dark and haunting world, I am bloody thrilled to say that I just loved this sequel! The story examines the beauties and frailties of Darcy and Elizabeth's love and devotion to each other while folding it into a world filled with gothic danger. It is action-packed and left me turning pages rather quickly, while at the same time being filled with well-developed characters whose inner turmoils make the reader empathize with each of their own plights." C.A. Pepe, Just Jane 1813
Excerpt from Book I: Pulse and Prejudice
As he had done the previous nights, Darcy waited until the house had gone silent and opened the door to Miss Bennet’s room. At first surprised to find Elizabeth was not in the chair beside the bed, he then realized that, as Jane Bennet continued to mend, her sister need not tend to her all night. He turned back into the hall and closed the door. Darcy instinctively knew Elizabeth was in the next room. He stepped over and stood before the door, aware of her presence on the other side.
Darcy leaned in with his hands on either side of the doorframe and let his forehead fall against the door. He closed his eyes and imagined her lying on the bed, her hair splayed out on the pillow, the eyes that had challenged him so brightly just that evening now closed in repose. What little effort, how few steps it would take, for him to be upon her, taking what he needed, sating his thirst.
He pushed himself away from the door and leaned back against the wall beside, despair filling him. He had stood watch over Elizabeth and her sister for two nights and had come back to do so again, to protect them from the very thing he now ached to do himself. The irony sickened him but did not staunch his desire. Gathering all the resolve he knew it would require to return to his room, he stepped away from the wall.
Darcy turned just as the door opened and Elizabeth appeared. They cried out in surprise simultaneously.
“Mr. Darcy!”
“Eliz-a-Miss Bennet!”
She was dressed in her night-rail and wrapper; and, though more modest than even her day dresses, the sight set his nerves on edge. Her hair hung down as he had imagined. She held one hand to her heart as the other gripped a candlestick.
“Mr. Darcy, you frightened me! What do you mean by all this skulking about in the dark? How can you even see where you are going?”
He steadied himself before speaking. “I seem to have mislaid my book. I was unable to sleep and thought to read.”
“The Lord Nelson? I believe I saw it in the library on the sideboard.”
He nodded. “That would be a good place for it.”
She smiled. “Indeed. Although if you are looking for the second volume, you may have to wrest it away from Miss Bingley,” she said with a glint in her eye. He smiled at that; but then they both became sensible to the impropriety of their current circumstance and their close proximity. “I was on my way to check on Jane.”
He knew he should step aside, but he did not. He knew he should look away, but he did not. He held her eyes in his stare, his resistance faltering. Another moment and he might have moved towards her, reached his hand to hold the nape of her neck, pierced her flesh with his aching teeth, pressed his mouth upon her lips; but the light from her candle illuminated his face, and he saw his wan reflection in her eyes. As with all those with his curse, he could not bear the sight of his own reflection, a vision of death itself. Her candle flickered out in an instant, and she gasped and broke her gaze.
“There...must be a draught,” she said. They were in darkness, save the moonlight from the window behind her, as soft as her voice. Something made her step back from him; then she turned away. “Let me find the tinderbox.” When she looked back, he was gone.
Excerpt from Book I: Pulse and Prejudice
Elizabeth could not help but be diverted by her companion’s silence, as he had been relatively talkative during the last few evenings. She thought it unlikely he could be embarrassed by their awkward encounter the night before. She wondered that he might have been offended by her comments concerning his defects of character, although he had not seemed so at the time. That she may have the power to offend him diverted her; and in the midst of these musings, her attention turned away from her embroidery to him. In her distraction, she inadvertently scraped the point of her needle across the tip of the middle finger of her left hand.
She cried out mildly and raised her hand to examine the cut. Startling her, Darcy immediately stood before her, gripping her hand in his. “Miss Bennet, you are hurt!” he exclaimed.
Amused by his sudden and dramatic concern, she laughingly said, “It is merely a flesh wound, I assure you, Mr. Darcy. Pray do not concern yourself.” Her amusement gave way to distress, however, as his attention remained focused on the dark, red blood that emerged from the shallow cut. “Mr. Darcy!” Elizabeth cried, attempting to wrench her hand from his grasp. “Mr. Darcy! Release my hand!”
Darcy peered into her wide, dark eyes, which showed more surprise than horror. Holding them in his stare, he crouched beside her. Her hand captive in his left, he pressed lightly on her temple with the fingertips of his right while penetrating her with his gaze until she relaxed against the back of her chair, her eyes at half-mast. He traced gentle fingers down her cheek and across her jaw then took her hand in both of his and brought it to his mouth.
She was correct; the cut was not deep, but what little blood touched his tongue caused him to tremble in delight and desire. The few drops from her, so deliciously warm and sweet, only increased his hunger. He held his hand upon her neck and felt her pulse until it echoed in his head. He could have her, here and now, he thought. The hand on her neck slid to her nape, baring her throat enticingly to him. He lowered his face to her—the aroma of blood coursing below her skin prickled his senses, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.
“Elizabeth,” he whispered. He closed his eyes and pressed his mouth against her pulse, its rhythm beating upon his lips. He remained thus, embracing her warmth, desperate for more, until he could muster the strength to pull away from her. He had to believe there existed enough of Darcy the man to prevent him from such a despicable act. He stood and caressed her cheek before allowing himself a final kiss upon her forehead.
Darcy returned to his seat and turned his attention to his book. In a moment, Elizabeth stirred and realized she must have dozed off. She glanced at Darcy, but he had not seemed to notice. She smiled as she thought how they had managed to spend half an hour alone together without even speaking.
Excerpt from Book I Pulse and Prejudice, Volume 4: Beyond Pride and Prejudice
***Spoiler Alert*** Darcy and Elizabeth end up together! This scene occurs during their courtship.
“You know, I recently read a poem about you,” Elizabeth said to Mr. Darcy as they walked under the moonlight. Her eyes held more humour than betrayed by her small smile.
“A poem about me? Pray, who would have written a poem about me?”
“Oh, none other than your friend, the illustrious Lord Byron.” He glimmed at her quizzically, eyebrows raised, to which she nodded with false gravity.
“That will not do,” said he. “I have it on very good authority that poetry is one of the most efficient tools for driving away love.”
“Oh, only a slight inclination; not a stout, healthy love.”
He smiled, clearly pleased with her implication, and spoke with a note of humour. “You must not keep me in suspense. How has Lord Byron illustrated my character?”
“I fear it was not complimentary,” she teased.
“Of this, I cannot pretend surprise. Pray go on.”
Elizabeth blanched and cast her eyes down, the levity leaving her face as she realized she had created a trap for herself. Noting her change in demeanour, Mr. Darcy stopped their progress and, taking her hands in his, turned her to face him, but she did not look up.
“Elizabeth?”
Through repeated readings, she had memorized a larger passage; but sensible to his own inner torment, she began her recitation after the reference to the tortures of inward hell. “But first, on earth as Vampire sent, Thy corse shall from its tomb be rent. Then ghastly haunt thy native place, And suck the blood of all thy race; There from thy daughter, sister, wife, At midnight drain the stream of life; Yet loathe the banquet which perforce, Must feed thy livid living corse; Thy victims ere they yet expire, Shall know the demon for their sire, As cursing thee, thou cursing them, Thy flowers are withered on the stem.”
Releasing one hand, he lifted her chin so she would look at him. Gazing into the depths of her eyes, he asked, “And this did not drive you away?”
Inaudibly, she mouthed the word, “No.”
He lightly brushed the back of his fingers on her cheek. “A healthy love, indeed.” He replaced her hand into the crook of his arm and walked her towards the French windows. In an accent to return their conversation to its prior lightness, he said, “I assure you, madam, your flowers are safe from me!” to which she laughed heartily.
Excerpt from Book II: Dearest Bloodiest Elizabeth
Crimson drops fell onto the white snow, staining it pink.
Darcy had not intended this—to drink from his wife—when he claimed his prize of a kiss after catching her as they raced through the hedge maze at Pemberley. Elizabeth had actually done surprisingly well in evading him, considering his intuitive abilities; but, of course, he caught her—laughing in his arms, eyes ablaze, cheeks chafed from the cold.
“And now my prize!” As had so often occurred in the span of their brief marriage, his tender kiss escalated quickly into fervent ardour. The laughter then in her eyes, his wife had taken hold of the lapels of his greatcoat and, falling back onto the snow, pulled him down with her. As their kisses deepened, so, too, had his hunger and desire. He pulled off his gloves and trailed his cold fingers down her face. Untying her bonnet and unfastening her cape, he exposed her neck for his lips and his teeth.
She moaned softly as he drew the blood from her throat, sharing her warmth and her pulse, savouring the rich, metallic taste. He pulled back to watch her, only then noticing that a few precious drops of lifeblood had escaped his embrace and fallen onto the snow.
“William,” she whispered in a half-plea, her hand running down the front of his trousers to convey her intent.
He gazed into her eyes. “Should not we go in? Are not you cold?”
“Cover me to keep me warm.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth onto hers, sharing the taste of her blood as their tongues intertwined.
Darcy slid up her skirts and brought the hem to her knees. He reached his hand up between her cold thighs to the hot core that drew him in. She gasped against his mouth as he touched her there, but he wasted little time in freeing himself from his trousers and thrusting deep within her.
Afterward he held her face in his hands, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs as he kissed her beatific face. His thoughts of his good fortune in finding and winning this woman were disrupted when he comprehended that, even in their current state of dishabille, she was stuffing snow down his back. He reacted dramatically, rolling up to shake out the snow; and Elizabeth availed of his distraction to make her escape.
“Madam, you use your wiles and allures to seduce me and gain an advantage!”
As she stood up, though, she stumbled and fell forward onto the soft snow, thus providing her husband the opportunity to reciprocate by putting snow down her gown and eliciting her squeals.
“I surrender!” She laughed, trying to dislodge the snow from her back. “You have bested me once again, Mr. Darcy.”
He stood and pulled her to her feet and into his arms. “Perhaps we should consider it a draw.”
They walked from the hedges to the house with an appropriate space between them for the benefit of the servants’ sizing eyes to temper any gossip about the master and his bride, though Darcy wondered if the household would be insensible to the affection he shared with his wife when he noted her swollen lips and the mirth in her eyes. Indeed, he doubted his countenance could conceal his own jubilance. The staff of Pemberley could not but be affected by their master’s joy, which proved contagious. He could see his own easy smiles reflected in their faces.
Darcy felt he had undergone a metamorphosis of sorts, a second transformation to reverse the pain and shame of the first. After years of self-loathing, disgust for the beast he had become, the indignity of even pronouncing the word, he had found someone who not only accepted his dark nature but embraced it—welcomed it, reveled in it!—gaining from it a satisfaction to match his own.
Naturally, no one could possibly have imagined the secret of their marriage bed; but anyone seeing him standing a bit taller, walking with a self-assurance heretofore unknown, could not doubt that marriage agreed with him.
Fitzwilliam Darcy, vampire, was happy.
Colette L. Saucier is a bestselling and award-winning author in a variety of genres under multiple pseudonyms. Her novel Pulse and Prejudice, Book I: The Confession of Mr. Darcy, Vampire; the highly-acclaimed paranormal adaptation of the Jane Austen classic, was the 2013 Chatelaine Awards 1st Place Winner in Category, Romantic Fiction. Elle Magazine named Pulse and Prejudice a "Most Inventive Adaptation" of Pride & Prejudice in their April 2016 edition. It was also selected the 2013 1st Place Winner in Category: Chatelaine Awards Romantic Fiction. An abridged version of The Proud and the Prejudiced: A Modern Twist on Pride and Prejudice was selected a 2013 Amazon Breakthrough Novel Semi-finalist and Austensque Reviews’ Favorite Modern Adaptation under the title All My Tomorrows. Colette’s latest release is the controversial erotic noir suspense, The Widow. She will be releasing Dearest Bloodiest Elizabeth, Book II: The Confession of Mr. Darcy, Vampire in eBook August, 2016, and print in October. A writer, world-traveler, empty-nester, and a literature, history, wine & cheese lover; Colette lives in Southeast Louisiana with her historian husband and their dogs.
Tell us something really interesting that's happened to you!
Years ago I spent a month in Peru, including a week in the Amazonian rain forest with the Matsés Indians – the “cat people” of the Amazon, I have a degree in religious philosophy, and so I’ve always been interested in world religions. This indigenous tribe ascribes to animism. While in Peru, I took part in three ayahuasca ceremonies. This is the most sacred plant medicine of the Amazon and the strongest hallucinogen known to man. I also had the privilege of receiving sapo from a Matsés curandero. This serum is obtained by tickling frogs! Just watching them obtain the sapo I found quite amusing. (The frogs are in no way harmed and are released once the sapo is obtained, but I can imagine the story the frog has to tell his friends when he gets back home: “Man, you’re not going to believe what just happened to me!”) The curandero administers the serum into burns made onto the skin, and it makes the recipient feel horrible, like two weeks of having the flu all crammed into 30 minutes. Afterwards, however, I felt wonderful and could see so clearly. It’s a powerful detoxification and purification serum.
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