I totally agree with Helen Hancock's review above, but not with the star rating. The only star I can give for this book is for the sheer effort of writing a novel of this length. I have never read a P&P sequel before and this one totally infuriated me and I will never read a regency sequel again. I have even been put off reading any other regency historical or romance novel. The research in this novel is appalling. More appalling because it could have been simply solved by typing in a query in the internet, or the distance between places on google maps! The author however seems to believe they can make up for this by basically cramming the book with as much sex and euphemisms as they possibly can. 'Saucy' is not the word. If Darcy and Elizabeth mentioning sex is enough to make you blush, imagine the graphic description of their conjugal happiness against a wall. The worst example of a editing blunder is the constant adhering to using the title 'sir' and 'lord' interchangeably. "Sir Lewis de Bourgh"/"Lord de Bourgh"? hmm... Not only that but what caused my struggling journey through this book to reach its height of loathing was the first appearance of a "Sir Lucas". 'That's strange,' I thought, 'What a strange first name, it sounds very much like Sir William Lucas-- Oh wait. grrrrrrr!' Yes, this was indeed Sir William Lucas, knight (not baronet! - or lord) and the first arousal of my suspicion that this author may have not even read P&P (I suppose watching the BBC version is good enough for the historical content of this book). Any GCSE or A-level student made to read this book a few times and armed with a student guide could tell you Darcy's late mother was christened "Lady Anne" not "Elinor". Not only that JA's short paragraph at the beginning of chapter 42 in P&P ("Mr. Bennet was not of a disposition to seek comfort, for the disappointment which his own imprudence had brought on, in any of those pleasures which too often console the unfortunate for their folly or their vice.") which although a little unclear to someone with an IQ below that of a guinea pig would make the appearance of Mr. Bennet's illegitimate child equally confusing. Every single sentence is over-wrought and violently fragmented - the author's aversion to contractions making even some simple sentence appear broken - that sometimes it is a puzzle to understand what is being referred to. Apart from euphemisms, which are hilariously rammed together with every "nethers", "members" and "womanly portals" the writer could summon to mind and ingenious only in their over-wrought complexity to make something meant to appear obscured extraordinary explicit by her excessive use - and misuse - of Austenish vocabulary. It is as if the author had swallowed a thesaurus and a pornographic novel and vomited up this up as a result, teemed with the sexual delicacy of a cheap tabloid. This is not a Jane Austen sequel. It is not even good fan-fiction. This is a trashy novel - a "fun romp" if you wish - with some characters with names that sound like those of a certain novel by Jane Austen but in no way resemble them, in complexity in as much as language. I would have given it zero stars if I had been able. Enjoy!
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