12 Days of Christmas Book Blitz: Day Eleven: Twelfth Night at Eyre Hall by Luccia Gray

On the Eleventh Day of Christmas, an author gave to me....

Twelfth Night at Eyre Hall by Luccia Gray

Luccia Gray was born in London, and now lives in the south of Spain with her husband. She has three children and three grandchildren. When she's not reading or writing, she teaches English at an Adult Education Centre and at University. 

http://www.amazon.com/Luccia-Gray/e/B00K34F28I/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8186541.Luccia_Gray
https://www.facebook.com/LucciaGray/
https://twitter.com/LucciaGray 

Following Edward Rochester’s death, Jane Eyre, who has been blackmailed into marrying a man she despises, will have to cope with the return of the man she loved and lost. The secrets she has tried so hard to conceal must be disclosed, giving rise to unexpected events and more shocking revelations.
Romance, mystery, and excitement will unfold exploring the evolution of the original characters, and bringing to life new and intriguing ones, spinning a unique and absorbing narrative, which will move the action from the Yorkshire countryside, to Victorian London, and across the Atlantic Ocean to Colonial Jamaica.

http://www.amazon.com/Twelfth-Night-Eyre-Hall-Trilogy-ebook/dp/B010KFLAVC/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8 


http://www.amazon.co.uk/Twelfth-Night-Eyre-Hall-Trilogy-ebook/dp/B010KFLAVC/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8  

Here are a few great snippets!

Gothic elements:

“Will you be responsible for Mr. Mason’s permanence in this house as one of the undead?” I roared impatiently.

“What is it you want?”

“To see the corpse and absorb his sins, of course.”

Mystery:

John stopped before a small casket which looked out of place inside a large niche positioned on the lower level, at the end wall of the vault, below Edward’s, and read, “Infant Eyre Rochester. May 1855.”

He smiled at me, “Do not faint now, mother. You are going to see your baby again, at last.”

Adventure:

Hours later, we were woken by a wild raging storm, which tossed our ship mercilessly like a seashell on the shore. My whole body was shaken and turned inside out. It seemed my entrails desired to escape the storm by tearing out of my body. I looked out of the tiny port hole and saw a huge mass of water and dark objects spinning like a whirlpool, and I was thrust back against my desk.

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