Alice McVeigh has been published in contemporary fiction by Orion/Hachette, in speculative fiction by UK's Unbound, and in historical fiction by Warleigh Hall Press. Her novels have won first prize/gold medals in the Global, eLit, Pencraft and Historical Fiction Company Book Awards, Kirkus stars , IPPYs, IndieBRAG medallions and been “Editors picks” in Publishers Weekly. They have also been quarterfinalists in the BookLife Prize, and finalists in the Foreword Indies “Book of the Year”, CIBA’s international Goethe, Cygnus and Chatelaine Book Awards, the International Book Awards, and many others.
Alice spent her childhood in Asia (South Korea, Thailand, Singapore, Myanmar) her teenage years in McLean VA, and her adulthood in London. She arrived in London to study cello with Jacqueline du Pre, married and spent fifteen years travelling the world with London orchestras before taking fiction seriously.
Alice has long been married to Simon McVeigh, professor of music at the University of London. They share a daughter, Rachel - shortly to start her Ph.D in Chinese Literature at Harvard - two long-haired mini-dachshunds, a second home in Crete and an untreatable addiction to tennis.
More Books by
Alice McVeigh
In this delightful retelling of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, Alice McVeigh adds a new layer of enchantment and a fresh and exhilarating perspective to the timeless tale of Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy – including a few twists that will keep readers guessing until the end.
As the story unfolds, Darcy possesses a secret that threatens his own reputation, while Colonel Fitzwilliam embarks on a quest. Meanwhile, Miss Mary Bennet finds herself unexpectedly pursued, leading her to question everything she had been so sure of before. It’s still Pride and Prejudice – but with (wedding) bells on!
McVeigh infuses familiar characters – Lady Catherine, Colonel Fitzwilliam – with fresh energy and new perspective. Fans of Austen will find much to love while newcomers to Austen's world will be delighted by the timeless themes of love and jealousy that still resonate today.
Don’t miss this thrilling new take on a beloved classic.
"Darcy is a delightfully deep dive into what the characters were thinking but not saying." - Foreword/Clarion Reviews
“McVeigh’s prose and plotting are pitch-perfect.” – Publishers Weekly
Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Variation
Alice McVeigh
Four weddings... no funerals!
Book Excerpt or Article
After our visitors left, I chose to accompany the Gardiners and their niece to their carriage, taking the chance to thank Eliza. ‘It was very good of you to come.’
‘Not at all. Your sister is charming,’ said she. ‘How I long to hear her play!’
‘Thank you, but I hope to hear you play again, as well.’
‘I fear that would be only an embarrassment, as I have not touched an instrument this long age.’
‘But the voice can surely not have altered? Colonel Fitzwilliam said, only the other day, how it had brightened Rosings last Easter.’
She turned to look at me, as if contemplating some swift rejoinder, misjudged the depth of the marble step beneath, and slipped, with a little cry. Taking three steps in one, I caught her round the waist, secured her against the balustrade and released her. So strange a moment – locked close, a third of the way down the marble staircase – time itself suspended!
Her aunt, following, heard the cry and rushed to the head of the stairs. ‘Lizzy! What has happened?’
‘Why nothing at all! I fell, I cannot think how, but Mr Darcy caught me – for which I am most grateful,’ she said to me, with a private smile. ‘I am sorry to have alarmed you, Aunt, for I am rarely clumsy, as a rule.’
After assisting them into the carriage, I watched it roll away, still thinking of that little smile. How I wished I could have prolonged that instant on the stair! I was then obliged to return to the saloon, where Miss Bingley was saying very spitefully, ‘How very ill Eliza Bennet looked this morning! I never in my life saw anyone so altered. She is grown so brown and coarse!’
‘I can perceive no difference,’ said I, ‘beyond her being rather tanned, no very remarkable result of travelling in the summer.’
Poor Miss Bingley tossed her head. ‘Well, I must say, I could never see anything to admire in her. Her complexion has no brilliancy, her face is too thin, and her features nothing out of the common way. And as for her eyes, which have sometimes been called so fine, they have a sharp, shrewish expression, which I do not care for at all. I recall that once, in Hertfordshire, you said, “Her, a beauty? – I should as soon call her mother a wit!” – But after that she grew on you, and I believe you considered her rather pretty at one time.’
This was too much for my feelings. I said, ‘True, but that was only when I first knew her, for it has been many months since I have considered her one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance.’
At this, Miss Bingley actually flinched. How far I had made real inroads into Caroline Bingley’s heart is something I have never quite determined. Yet, in that moment, I regretted my warmth, and felt sorry for her.
I could not sleep that night, for recollecting that moment on the stair.
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Alice McVeigh
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