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The Sequel: Coming Spring 2009
Sequel to Confessions of a Jane Austen Addict
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single woman of thirty must be in want of a husband—in any century. Such is the assumption that plagues Jane Mansfield, an anachronistically named woman from 1813 England who finds herself inside the body and life of twenty-first-century free spirit Courtney Stone. Jane has long wished to escape from a world in which she was forbidden to live alone, travel alone, or even earn her own money. But a stucco-ceilinged, barred-window box in Los Angeles’s Echo Park, complete with gang graffiti and the sound of the occasional gunshot, is not what she had in mind. Gone are the spacious rooms, rolling lawns, and hovering servants of her parents’ estate. Gone is even a single friend who sees her or knows her as Jane. Nothing—not even her reflection in the mirror—is the same.
The only thing that is familiar—and the only thing Jane appears to have in common with the mysterious woman whose life she inhabits—is a love of Jane Austen. Jane’s continual perusal of Courtney’s collection of Austen novels not only provides Jane with a connection to the world she left behind. It also helps her survive a chaotic modern life that almost constantly alludes to the novels.
Not everything about Jane’s borrowed life is disagreeable. Living alone affords her a first blissful taste of privacy. If she needs a diversion, the apartment is equipped with glossy rectangles that emit sounds and stories and music. (She is particularly fond of the glass box with the little people acting out scenes from Pride and Prejudice.) Granted, if she wants to travel beyond the immediate neighborhood she may have to give in and drive the roaring, four-wheeled metal carriage, but she may do so without a chaperone. And oh, what places she goes! Public assemblies that pulsate with pounding music she can feel in her bones. Unbound hair and unrestricted clothing. The freedom to say what she wants when she wants—even to men without a proper introduction.
There are, however, a few complications. Such as the employer who expects her to do her job, which Jane has no idea how to do. The bills that must be paid, despite the dwindling bank account. The bewildering memories that are Courtney’s but not her own. Most confusing is Courtney’s friend Wes, who is as attractive and confusing to Jane as the man who broke her heart back home. It’s enough to make Jane wonder if she is indeed better off here, in an era where entire publications are devoted to brides, where a legion of devotees to the world of Austen exists, yet where flirting and kissing and even the sexual act itself raise no matrimonial expectations. Perhaps she would be better off in her own time, where at least the rules are clear—that is, if returning were even an option.