Jane Fairfax 3 - Jane Vows Vengeance
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Praise for the Jane Austen, Vampire series
“Rollicking … a witty demonstration of how beautifully the dilemmas of being Jane Austen and a vampire can comport with the tropes of chick lit. You’ll thirst for the conclusion of the trilogy.”
—Kirkus Reviews on Jane Goes Batty
“Inventive and funny, and the story progresses with the kind of light touch that compares favorably to the … Stephenie Meyer Twilight series.… [Ford] consistently delights.”
—Bay Area Reporter on Jane Bites Back
“Fang-tastic.”
—Publishers Weekly on Jane Bites Back
“Hilarious … I thoroughly enjoyed reading this book and know you will too!”
—The Vampire Librarian on Jane Bites Back
“A fun, humorous weekend read! … It [made] me laugh out loud. Ford does a fantastic job capturing the spirit of Jane Austen.”
—Vamp Chix on Jane Goes Batty
“A rollicking good read … Ford is wickedly funny.”
—Dirty Laundry on Jane Bites Back
“Ford approvingly cites Seth Grahame-Smith’s Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, but his own mashup is better integrated, more knowledgeable about Austen and considerably funnier.”
—Kirkus Reviews on Jane Bites Back
“Readers who fall under Jane’s spell will be eagerly awaiting her next adventure.”
—Library Journal on Jane Bites Back
“Ford’s Jane is a very fun and funny heroine to root for as she endures the indignities of publishing and bookselling, fends off danger and (perhaps) finds love.”
—Publishers Weekly on Jane Bites Back
“FIVE STARS! This is one of the most thoroughly entertaining stories I have read in the past few years!”
—Huntress Reviews on Jane Bites Back
“A witty and entertaining read with just the right amount of bite … This book will appeal to Austen fans and vampire fans alike.”
—Night Owl Romance on Jane Bites Back
“Light, campy and a bit Buffyish … Read with tongue-in-cheek and a full glass of suspended disbelief; you will chortle and guffaw until the last bite. This Janeite was truly ‘glamored.’ 5 out of 5 Regency Stars.”
—Austenprose on Jane Bites Back
“In the past year, I have read quite a few Jane Austen spin-offs, but none quite as original as Jane Bites Back by Michael Thomas Ford. What a fantastic premise for a book … I am so excited to say that I really, really enjoyed this book.”
—Booking Mama on Jane Bites Back
“One of the most likable vampires ever created; there are also unexpected plot twists to keep readers engaged to the end. Verdict: References to classic and contemporary books will appeal to bibliophiles, pop culture asides will catch trend watchers, and classic physical comedy scenes could make anyone chuckle.”
—Library Journal on Jane Goes Batty
“Filled with sly humor and fast-paced quips, this [is a] delightful romp.… Ford’s Jane is as lovely and as ladylike as ever, her vital spirit a perfect reflection of literary heroine chic.”
—Curled Up with a Good Book on Jane Goes Batty
“Ford delivers an original take with a sharp and well-formed wit. I found myself laughing and groaning in no time at all.”
—January Magazine on Jane Goes Batty
“A hilarious romp … This book is definitely worth picking up and reading and I can’t wait to read the third installment in this building series.”
—The Obsessive Book Worm on Jane Goes Batty
“A funny, smart, well-crafted book that will keep you glued to the pages … This book has a little bit for everyone. If you like the classics, you’ll enjoy the references. If you like physical comedy, you won’t be disappointed. And, if you’re enjoying the rapid rise of the vampire genre, Jane Goes Batty is your cherry on the top. Pick up your copy today.”
—Romance Reviews Today on Jane Goes Batty
“[Jane Goes Batty is] the kind of book you can start reading late at night and fight off sleep just so you can keep reading.… I highly recommend this book and its prequel. It will have you dying to meet your favourite authors.”
—Bibliomantics on Jane Goes Batty
Jane Vows Vengeance is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
A Ballantine Books eBook Edition
Copyright © 2012 by Michael Thomas Ford
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
BALLANTINE and colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Ford, Michael Thomas.
Jane vows vengeance: a novel / Michael Thomas Ford.
p. cm.
eISBN: 978-0-345-52437-9
1. Austen, Jane, 1775–1817—Fiction. 2. Vampires—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3606.O7424J39 2012
813’.6—dc23 2011046722
www.ballantinebooks.com
Cover design: Marietta Anastassatos
Cover images: © Lisa Howarth/Trevillion Images (house), Tyler Stalman/Vetta/Getty Images (woman), Val Lawless/Shutterstock (panel)
v3.1
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Epilogue
Other Books by This Author
Dedication
About the Author
Brakeston, New York
“WHAT ABOUT THIS ONE?”
Jane glanced at the magazine Lucy was holding up, opened to a picture of a bride standing in a field of daisies. The bride wore a sheath-style dress of ivory silk and a birdcage veil to which was affixed a huge pale yellow gardenia. Not far behind her stood a Holstein cow, gazing at the camera with a disinterested look.
Jane grimaced. “I don’t think I have the upper arms for that,” she said.
“Of course you do,” scoffed Lucy. “Well, with a little work you could.”
Jane ignored her best friend. “Why would a bride go tromping around in a field of cows?” she said irritably. “If there’s any train at all on that dress, she’s going to drag it right through a pile of—”
“It’s one cow,” Lucy said wearily. “And it’s a photo shoot for a fashion magazine, not an article in National Geographic. Get a grip.”
Jane sighed, closing the magazine she was paging through and tossing it onto the pile of them covering the top of the kitchen table. “It’s just that they’re all starting to blur together. Cap sleeves. Bateau necklines. Basque waists. Mermaid this and sweetheart that and princess whatever. It’s maddening.”
Lucy picked up another magazin
e. “Victorian Bride,” she read, looking at the cover. She glanced at Jane. “Really?”
Jane chewed the nail on her left index finger. “I grabbed everything they had,” she replied. “I think I have wedding sickness.”
Eight months had passed since she’d accepted Walter Fletcher’s marriage proposal. Shortly before the Christmas holidays she had moved into Walter’s house. It was now February, and although Walter was not pressuring her to pick a date for their wedding, another deadline hung over her head like the ominous clouds of an approaching thunderstorm.
Jane had so far avoided telling her fiancé that she was a vampire. Her undead condition was, however, known to Walter’s mother. Miriam Ellenberg, much to Jane’s dismay, had turned out to be even more of a challenge than mothers-in-law generally were: Miriam was a vampire hunter. Not surprisingly, she disapproved of her son’s choice of a girlfriend, and initially had vowed to dispatch Jane at the earliest convenience. However, after Jane rescued Miriam from almost certain death at the hands of a deranged vampire turned book reviewer, a truce had been declared. With one condition: Jane had a year in which to produce a grandchild. Should she fail, all bets were off and Miriam and she would once again be mortal enemies.
In addition to not having planned a wedding, Jane had not become pregnant. She still wasn’t even sure she could conceive, which was in itself no small concern. To make matters worse, Miriam had decided to move from Florida to upstate New York so that she could keep an eye on her daughter-in-law-to-be. Thankfully, Walter had not suggested that his mother move into the house with them. However, he had suggested that Miriam buy Jane’s former home, since Jane would have no more use for it now that she and Walter were living together. As neither Jane nor Miriam—despite both thinking very hard—had been able to come up with a good reason why this course of action should not be taken, a deal had been struck, and the week after Jane moved herself, her pets, and her possessions into Walter’s house, a trio of anxious young men had unloaded Miriam’s belongings from a truck under Miriam’s scrutinizing supervision.
The matter of Jane’s barren state was becoming a greater problem with each passing week. With only four months left in which to become pregnant, she sensed Miriam becoming increasingly impatient. To her credit, Miriam had never once reminded Jane of the looming deadline. She and Jane were cordial enough to each other that Walter had often remarked on how pleased he was that they were getting on so well. Still, Jane knew that she was being watched.
She was not surprised, then, when Miriam made an appearance in the kitchen just moments later. She was dressed in a variation of the peculiar ensemble she’d adopted following the first snowfall of the winter. Unused to cold, she had opted for warmth over fashion, exchanging the lightweight pantsuits that had served her well in Florida’s tropical climate for sturdy corduroy trousers and heavy wool sweaters in Irish fisherman and Norwegian ski patterns. At the moment she was wearing moss-green pants and a cream Aran sweater with a rolled neck. Below the knees her pants were tucked into a pair of brown Wellingtons, and on her head was a black-and-red buffalo plaid hunter’s cap with earflaps and a shearling lining.
“It’s cold enough to freeze a bear’s ass,” she said as she pulled the cap off and sat down. “I need some coffee.”
In addition to her new wardrobe, Miriam had also acquired a collection of sayings generally used only by residents of the New England states. No matter how many times Walter told her that New York—despite its name—was not considered part of New England, Miriam persisted in behaving as if it were, occasionally even taking on an accent that was more Maine lobsterman than Jewish mother of a certain age.
Jane got up and poured Miriam a cup of coffee, thinking that she really needed to start locking the front door. She handed the cup to Miriam, then refilled Lucy’s mug. She herself was drinking hot chocolate. Although her vampire metabolism didn’t require that she eat, she still enjoyed the activity, particularly if it involved sweets.
“Still looking at dresses, I see,” Miriam remarked, nodding at the magazines.
“Yes,” Jane said evenly. “Still looking.”
“I really don’t see what the problem is,” Miriam said. “Choosing a dress shouldn’t be any more difficult than choosing a paint color. Just pick the one that’s going to hide the problem areas the best. Take you, for example. You’ve got a wide—”
“I believe I’ve narrowed it down,” Jane said. “The dress choices,” she clarified as Miriam started to reply.
Miriam peered at her through the steam from the coffee cup. “And have you set a date?” she asked. “Summer’s right around the corner, you know.”
Jane was unsure whether Miriam was referring to the approaching anniversary of their agreement or just remarking on the fact that a summer wedding would be lovely. She chose to believe it was the latter, although Miriam’s tone could be interpreted either way.
“Why don’t you and Walter just elope?” Lucy suggested.
Miriam and Jane both turned their heads to look at her.
“What?” said Lucy, pushing a strand of long curly black hair behind her ear. “It would save a lot of fuss and bother.”
“I thought you were excited about being my maid of honor,” Jane said.
“I am,” Lucy assured her. “I’m just saying, if this is making you so crazy, just get married at the courthouse and go to Tahiti for two weeks or something.”
“That would be nice,” Jane mused. “We could lie on the beach and have fruit drinks.”
“Nonsense,” said Miriam. “You’re going to be married right here so that I—so that all of your friends can join in the celebration.”
Jane looked at Lucy, who rolled her eyes and puffed out her cheeks. “It was just a suggestion,” she muttered.
“Walter’s first wedding was simply perfect,” Miriam informed them. “Evelyn was absolutely stunning.”
And now she’s dead, Jane thought, immediately mortified that such a thing would pop into her head. But it was true. Besides, it was becoming far too common an occurrence for Miriam to compare Jane to Walter’s deceased wife. The week before, when Jane had tried her hand at cooking a brisket because Miriam had mentioned how much she enjoyed one, Miriam’s response was to tell her how Evelyn’s brisket had been so much moister and how she had served small roasted potatoes with it and not mashed.
“Miriam, what kind of dress do you think Jane should wear?” Lucy asked.
Miriam waved a hand at her. “Oh, you know I don’t care. I’m sure whatever she wants is fine.”
Jane felt her fangs click into place. She closed her eyes and concentrated on forcing them to retract. You can’t bite her, she reminded herself.
Miriam raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a headache, Jane?” she asked. “You look tense.”
“I’m fine,” Jane snapped. She opened her eyes. “I’m fine,” she repeated, giving Miriam a tight smile.
She heard the front door open and close. “Jane?” Walter called out. “Where are you?”
“In here,” Jane replied. “With Lucy and your mother.”
Walter came into the kitchen, brushing snow from his navy blue peacoat. “I have great news,” he said as he bent to kiss first his mother and then Jane.
“You got the Thorne-Waxe house job!” Jane said. A restorer of historic houses, Walter had recently been asked to submit a proposal for restoring a run-down Victorian house that had been cut up into four apartments. The new owners wanted to bring it back to its original glory.
“Oh, yes, I did,” said Walter. “But that’s not the big news.” His blue eyes, always sparkling, had an extra twinkle to them.
The three women looked at him. “Well?” Jane said after a long pause.
“I’ve solved our wedding problem,” Walter said, beaming. “Well, not so much the wedding problem, but the honeymoon problem.”
“What do you mean, the honeymoon problem?” Miriam asked.
“Jane and I have been trying to decide where to g
o on our honeymoon,” Walter explained.
“What honeymoon?” said Miriam. “You haven’t even set a date for the wedding!”
“We’ll figure that out,” Walter said. “The important thing is, I know where we’re going afterward.”
“Tahiti?” said Lucy hopefully.
“Europe,” said Walter.
“Europe is a big place,” Jane reminded him. “Can you narrow it down a bit?”
“That’s the best part,” said Walter. “We don’t have to narrow it down. I’ve been invited to go on a tour of historic houses with the International Association of Historic Preservationists. They’re spending two weeks looking at homes in Ireland, France, Switzerland, Italy, and England. Oh, and Scotland or somewhere. I can’t remember the exact details. Doesn’t it sound fun?”
“How many other people will be going on our honeymoon with us?” Jane inquired.
“I don’t know—two dozen or so, I guess,” said Walter. “But we don’t have to do everything with the group. There’s a lot of free time built into the itinerary. And it’s not really our honeymoon. We can add another week on at the end for just the two of us. Anywhere you want to go.” He looked at the three women, who sat there saying nothing. “Well?”
“When is this trip?” Jane asked.
“March,” said Walter.
“March!” Jane, Lucy, and Miriam shrieked in unison.
“March what?” asked Lucy.
“We leave on the ninth,” Walter answered.
“The ninth!” the three women chorused.
“Walter, that’s …” Jane counted on her fingers.
“Seventeen days from now,” said Miriam. “We can’t possibly plan a wedding in that short a time.”
“Why not?” Walter asked. “You’re my only family, and Jane has none.”
“Hey!” Lucy exclaimed.
“You know what I mean,” said Walter, patting her shoulder kindly. “No parents or cousins or other people who would need to make travel plans. Everyone we want to invite already lives here. All we have to do is get married.”
Lucy looked at Jane. “It sounds so simple when he puts it like that,” she said.
“It does rather, doesn’t it?” Jane agreed.