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First Draft: Completed
Scheduled Date of Second Draft Completion: April 2012
Started: January 2009
Inspiration: Beauty and the Beast, Twilight, Pride and Prejudice
Dedications: Sara Rose, for reading her stories to me and making me want to write myself and for always actively encouraging me.
Possible Names: ?

Elizabeth Rose Cooper ran her fingers absently along the rod iron fence of the Monstra Estate with her thoughts entirely on the book she held in her free hand. She paused in front of the gate tightening her fingers around the iron, this was one of her favorite parts of the entire book, though it frustrated her. Mr. Darcy had just confessed his love of Elizabeth despite his better judgment. She wanted to yell at him to give him better words to profess his love, and she wanted Elizabeth to chase after him after she read his note. Oh the note. If love, real love, could be expressed in a simple note it seeped through every word he wrote. Mr. Darcy, though misguided wanted only to protect that which he loved couldn’t she see that.

She rested the book against her throbbing chest and sighed, how very frustrating love is. She gave the iron rod in her hand a quick squeeze before looking over at the house which was divided from the rest of the street. She thought for a moment that she saw the up stairs curtain move, but brushed it off as her imagination when she realized it was the Monstra house she stood in front of. Beau Monstra was a secluded sort of man and as such the town was filled with rumors about him. Elizabeth didn’t believe them of course, but the nature of terror in the voices that spoke of Beau had her moving her feet a little faster than usual to be beyond the side walk in front of this house

The Piano

For NaNoWriMo this year I'm fleshing out Christiana's story.

Christiana’s story
I walked into the store that day expecting to give up the last bit of him that I knew. When my mom moved back to France she left a house filled with his stuff. I had no clue what to do with all of it, old books and a record player. My friend Alexis suggested we bring it to a thrift store, apparently it was something people actually did, buy other people’s used stuff.

May Rose’s Story
I sat at the front desk sorting vinyl additions of Mozart and Bach, apparently some bozo didn’t know the treasures they had. I could hardly bare to put the 50 cent stickers on these. They were classics. I guess in the digital age no one had use for vinyls anymore. But none the less I made up my mind to bring one home with me. Do a little scratching and see if I couldn’t bring some life back into the old records.

Maude’s Story
Life didn’t owe me a thing and I didn’t owe life anything. I had served my fair share of people, and in my old age I had enough people serve me. It was a liberating thought to be able to do whatever I wanted whenever I wanted, to move on my whims. To dance naked in the rain, not that I’d ever do that but the knowledge that I could spurred me on. I had always been the lady in the neighborhood with the cookies. After school all the children would run to my house for milk cookies and piano lessons. Those were fun days back then, but I was slave to their dreams, catering to little divas that had dreams of Julie art and the symphony orchestra.