For those of you who love Jane Austen…for those of you who adore England's Georgian manner of speech...for those of  you who love romance…E-mail Me At Pemberley.

E-mail Me At Pemberley is a modern day story about a young woman who in the midst of life's chaos finds refuge in the world of Jane Austen. She joins an online Austen group and soon is wooed by her own Mr. Darcy. The best part about this is--I want you to write it with me.

Starting in October , I will post a short scene from this story and I want you to try and rewrite it, or tweak it, or offer your suggestions on how to make it better. Two weeks later, the best rewritten scene/ your ideas will be added into this continuing story and it will be posted with your name attached. See Pemberley Story (tab is above) for  character information.

To join in the festivities, e-mail me at This e-mail address is being protected from spam bots, you need JavaScript enabled to view it so I can add you to the yahoo group.

Therese

CHAPTER ONE

Kaysie Deal’s fingers hung poised over her laptop keyboard. Hit send. Hit send. Her brain shouted. Maybe she should read the e-mail one more time.

Dear Pemberley Members,

Thank you for your most prodigious welcome to your online group. I have always admired the words of Jane Austen and the Georgian manner of speech. I hope I will not disappoint any of you with my attempts form a connection with all of you, and efforts to write in the proper manner. I have just finished reading the last of Jane Austen’s books, saving Pride and Prejudice for the last and found it most felicitous.

Kaysie

She had rewritten it three times. Enough already. But as she clicked send, she startled at the time. 7:15 am. She had fifteen minutes to get across town, get her boss’ coffee and be at her desk at Trends Inc magazine. Scooping up her Prada purse and hopping on one foot as she slipped on her designer heels she ran out the door and to her car.

Ten hours later, Kaysie slogged through her apartment door, threw her keys and bag on the counter, and took the ten steps into the living/bedroom she rented on the west side in New York City. It had been another trying day at the magazine. Yawning, she hit speed dial to Wong’s Chinese Delivery. “Ah, hi. I’d like your number two, with two egg rolls, and a side of fried rice—oh and can you include extra sweet and sour sauce?”

“That be twelve fifty.”

A dial tone filled Kaysie’s ear. “Nothing like a home cooked meal from mom.”

Kicking off her heels, she padded over to her computer and checked her e-mail. Besides a couple of forwards from friends, there were several messages from the E-mail Me At Pemberley group. Kaysie bit her lip. Did they make fun at her poor attempts at Georgian speech? She clicked on one from Georgette Dyer, the moderator of the group.