The lost co-authored novel of Austen and Heyer!

I haven't written yet tonight! Because I was reading my book and hit that unputdownable mark. I have to highly recommend this book, if you're a fan of Jane Austen and Georgette Heyer. It's as though they discovered notes to an unwritten Austen novel, and gave them to Heyer to write. In other words, like the author's own style and not a knock off Austen imitation. (Like that horrid horrid hilariously bad Austen novel by Colleen McCullough. Be sure to read my review of that one!)

It's called Indiscretion by Jude Morgan. (Yes--a man!) About a down on her luck woman who takes a post as a lady's companion, and then bla bla bla scandal romance witty banter. I don't want to say more and spoiler it. But really, if you've read all of Austen's books and you're all "Why why aren't their more?" then give this one a try.

Here are some of my favorite lines--they're not spoilers.

It is plainly Mrs Catling's pleasure to pin her acquaintances like so many butterflies, and there is nothing to be gained by wriggling.

"And now over there is a gentleman who should not wear tight pantaloons. You will see when he turns around. There. That is why."

"...soon dinner will run into bed-time, and we shall all eat reclining like the ancient Romans--about whose digestion, you know, I have often wondered. Whether a dose of rhubabrb might have made a difference to Nero or Caligula is a question you might ponder, my dear, next time you go through your Tacitus."

I must try to be charitable, Caroline thought: probably she doesn't mean to sound as if she is continually translating from Latin.

"Very well." Matthew gave her such a hurt, wistful, nobly forbearing, and absolutely infuriating look that if Caroline had been a rich aunt she would have cut him out of her will on the spot.

He peered gloomily into a folio of maps. "I always think Brazil is too big."

"We are always parting! It's supposed to be sweet sorrow or something, isn't it? Those poets. They'll say anything."

"I found out when I went away from Wythorpe the first time in November--remember? How nice it is to rhyme, I must do it all the time."

"I have been run over by the speeding chariot of fate, caught up in its spiked wheels." - "I hate it when that happens," said Stephen.