Preview of Book II in The Once Upon a Dickens Christmas Series

There's more to come after 12 Days at Bleakly Manor.

[Quick note: business before pleasure…I promised to name the lucky winners of a signed copy of 12 Days at Bleakly Manor, and here they are: Kerri, Connie Saunders, Mechelle McCaffrey, Una Marie Ireland, Kailey Bechtel, Kathleen Garley, Kim G, Evangeline, Alecia Imbody Witbart, Nicole Santana, Ann Browning Hibbard, and Amanda.]

The first book in the Once Upon a Dickens Christmas series—12 Days at Bleakly Manor—is now available but wait…there's more. Coming in the fall of 2018 there will be a new story with new characters, yet more Dickens and of course the second chance coin will play a major role in the tale. Here is a blurb for A Tale of Two Hearts:

Innkeeper’s daughter Mina Scott will do anything to escape the drudgery of her life. She saves every penny to attend a finishing school, dreaming of the day she’ll become a real lady—and catch the eye of William Barlow, a frequent guest at the inn.

William is a gentleman’s son, a charming rogue but penniless. However, his bachelor uncle will soon name an heir—either him or his puritanical cousin. In an effort to secure the inheritance, William gives his uncle the impression he’s married, which works until he’s invited to bring his wife for a visit.

William asks Mina to be his pretend bride, only until his uncle names an heir on Christmas Day. Mina is flattered and frustrated by the offer, for she wants a true relationship with William. Yet, she agrees. . .then wishes she hadn’t. So does William. Deceiving the old man breaks both their hearts. When the truth is finally discovered, more than just money is lost.

Can two hearts survive such a deception?

And just to tease you a bit more, here is the first half of the first chapter…

London, 1853

“Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show.”

Mina Scott lowered her copy of David Copperfield to her lap and lifted her face to the October sun. Closing her eyes, she savored the warmth and the first line to a new adventure, as was her wont whenever old lady Whymsy leant her a book. Though she no longer stared at the page, the shapes of the words lingered, blazed in stark contrast to the brilliance against her lids. What a curious thought, to be one’s own hero—for the only hero she wanted was William Barlow.

Ahh, William. Just thinking his name lit a fire in her belly.

“Mina!” 

She shot to her feet, and the book plummeted to the ground. Her stomach dropped along with it—for being caught idle and for the dirt smudges sure to mar the cover. With her toe, she quickly slid the novel beneath her skirt hem, then turned to face her father.

Jasper Scott, master of the Golden Egg Inn and commander of her life, fisted hands the size of kidney pies at his hips. “What are ye doin’ out in the yard, girl, when ye ought be serving?”

“It’s hardly teatime, father. I thought to take a break before customers arrived.” From the peak of the inn’s rooftop, a swallow not yet flown to warmer climates chided her for a lame excuse. Not that she blamed the bird, for it was a pitiful defense, indeed.

Her father’s bushy brows pulled into a single line. “Don’t tell me you were reading again.”

 How did he know? How did he always know?

“I. . .” She tucked her chin, debating the greater evil—lying or disobedience?

Slowly, she bent and retrieved the book, then held it out. “Maybe you ought to keep this until we close tonight.”

“I thought as much when Mrs. Whymsy stopped by. Keep your head in the world, girl, not in the clouds.” He snatched the novel from her hand. “Now off with ye. There’s already patrons clamoring for a whistle wetting.”

She scurried past him and darted through the back door, nearly crashing into Martha, the inn’s cook.

“Peas and porridge!” Martha quickly stepped aside, the water in her pot sloshing over the rim and dampening the flagstones. “Watch yer step, missy!”

“Sorry, Martha.” Giving the lady a wider berth, she dashed to a peg on the wall and took down her apron. She made short work of tying the waistband and tucking in an extra cloth for wiping tables, then scooted to the taproom door before her father could find reason to scold her further.

Once she entered the public area, she slowed her steps and drew a deep breath. No one liked to be waited upon by a ruddy-cheeked snippet of a skirt. Scanning the room, she frowned. Only two tables were filled. Surely father could’ve managed to wait upon these few—

Her gaze landed on her golden-haired hero, ramping up her heart beat to a wild pace. His broad back toward her, in deep conversation with the fellow seated next to him, William Barlow changed the entire ill-lit taproom to a brilliant summer landscape simply by merit of his presence—and his laugh.

Mina grabbed a pitcher and quickly filled it with ale, the pull of William too strong to deny. Bypassing the other customers, she headed straight for his table.

“He’s invited me to a tea, of all things. Me!” His voice, smooth as fresh flowing honey and just as pleasant, grew louder the closer she drew to his table. “Can you imagine that, Fitz? A tea. How awful.”

A smile curved her mouth, imagining taking tea with William. Just the two of them. She’d pour a cup for him. He’d lift a choice little cake to her lips while speaking of his deepest affections. She sighed, warm and contented. “I should think a tea would be very pleasant,” she murmured.

Both men turned toward her. Mr. Fitzroy, William’s friend, spoke first. “Well, if it isn’t the lovely Miss Scott, come to save me from this boorish fellow.” He nudged William with his elbow.

William arched a brow at her, a rogue grin deepening the dimples at the sides of his mouth. “I was wondering when you’d grace us with your appearance, sweet Mina.”

Sweet Mina. Heat flooded her cheeks. She’d be remembering that endearment in her dreams tonight.

But for now, she scowled. “Mr. Barlow, if my father hears of your familiarity, I fear—”

“Never fear, my sweet.” He winked—and her knees weakened. “I’m a champion with ruffled fathers.”

Ignoring his wordplay, she held up the pitcher. “Refills?”

William slapped his hand to his heart. “You know me too well.”

Not as well as I’d like to. La! Where had that come from? Maybe father was right, and she had been reading too many books.

“I’m as intrigued as Miss Scott.” Mr. Fitzroy held his cup out to her, for she’d filled William’s mug first. “Why would you not want to attend your uncle’s tea? As I recall, he’s a jolly enough fellow.”

William slugged back a long draw of his ale, then lowered his cup to the table. “Nothing against Uncle Barlow, mind you. It’s just that I’m to bring my wife along.”

Wife!

Mina’s pitcher clattered to the floor. She stared at it, horrified. Ale seeped into the cracks of the floorboards, the very image of her draining hopes and dreams. William had a wife?

Yikes! What is this poor girl going to do with such news? Stay tuned next September for book II in the Once Upon a Dickens Christmas series!