**Epic spoilers for the whole series**

It’s really over. The very last episode of The Lizzie Bennet Diaries aired today. On Monday I won’t have a new video to watch, new story developments to obsess over. I’ve known it was coming for several weeks now. The head writer Bernie Su had confirmed that the series would end with the 100th episode. There have been good-byes to characters and writers after their last episode aired, posts from the actors about what the show meant to them. It still doesn’t quite seem possible that it’s finished.

I’m not sure what I’ll do with myself next week. Maybe catch up on laundry.

I’ve loved the videos of Darcy and Lizzie together. The way she plays with his tie never gets old. And in episode 99, “Future Talk,” that cut from the almost kiss to disheveled Lizzie, smoothing her hair back in place is hotter than any on-screen kiss. I was a little worried when Darcy offered Lizzie the job at Pemberley Digital. I won’t lie: I was nervous. I didn’t want strong, independent Lizzie to end up being the boss’ girlfriend. Her refusal – and her reasons for refusing – were just what I could have hoped. Lizzie has created something powerful and meaningful to her. It’s only right that she should carry that on to start her own company. And San Francisco is the perfect place for an internet startup – obviously. Darcy’s obvious unhappiness but quick acceptance of her refusal and support of her setting up shop as his competition cements him as perfect boyfriend material.

[We always knew he had it in him...]

The final hour is at hand. We've talked Vampire Academy, TVD, and the role of Horror in Romance. But what is the not-so-hidden secret obsession of Site Manager Heather Waters? What is it about a certain pair of secret agents that she finds so appealing? What about this upstart Lizzie Bennet? Besides Heather's obsessions, this week we talk about who is the Best Darcy, Enemies-to-Friends-to-Lovers, and the Best Rejections Scene in Romance.

Not sure what this is all about? Last month, H&H staffers began the H&H Off-Hours video series, where we discuss various topics that interest us. Typically late at night and fueled by plenty of wine and/or beer. Sit back and listen to us ramble. And don't forget to let us know what you think in the comments!

-Megan, Heather, Chris, and Jenn at Team H&H

We’re getting near the end of the Lizzie Bennet Diaries series. I know, I know. I don’t know what I’ll do with myself but the writers have said the series will wrap up at the end of the month and with today’s episode, we’re getting pretty close.

Darcy not-that-secretly arranged the take down of Lydia’s tape. We got to see this all play out through Gigi’s videos on the Pemberley Digital YouTube channel. There was a ton of discussion among the fans as to how feminist/misogynist all this was to have the rich white guy come in and protect the helpless girls, Gigi and Lydia. Some of it got very heated, so if you venture into it, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

[What else happened?!?]

When offered the chance to propose a “core curriculum” for historical romance, I eagerly accepted, knowing full well the problems I would have narrowing the list to a reasonable length. After long consideration, I have a list (in chronological order)—not of my favorites (although some are books I cherish) but rather twelve books (thanks to a gracious editor who allowed me to include two beyond the desired maximum) that seem to me to be “foundational;” that is, they either illustrate a convention or trope fundamental to historical romance (representative book) or mark a significant change in the subgenre (unique contribution), and they all provide rich material for discussion on key issues. 

1. Pride and Prejudice (1813), Jane Austen

Technically, of course, Jane Austen did not write historical romance, but many of the elements familiar to readers of historical romance in the 21st century can be traced to this book. Pamela Regis asserted in A Natural History of the Romance Novel (2003) that “the courtship makes the romance,” and Pride and Prejudice is a courtship book, a courtship that involves a heroine with intelligence and humor who is no beauty but has “fine eyes"; an arrogant, wealthy hero humbled by love; relatives, embarrassing and interfering; a wicked deceiver; a pompous suitor; sisters, dear and not so dear; a best friend; a bungled proposal; appropriate groveling; and a happily ever after ending that includes true love and an enviable income. I’ve only scratched the surface of what romance fiction owes to this book.

[What else is on the syllabus?...]

What are we to think of the announcement of Jo Baker's forthcoming book (and possibly film), Longbourn?

The announcement states: “Riffing off the Jane Austen tale, Longbourn will highlight the constant chaos swirling downstairs, the preparation for lavish balls, and the housekeeper’s real thoughts about the family patriarch. But it will also reveal the tragic consequences of the Napoleonic Wars and focus on a romance between a newly arrived footman and a housemaid, the novel’s main characters.”

On the one hand, this seems like a brilliant marketing idea: Pride & Prejudice meets Downton Abbey. How many readers and viewers can you entice with that? Take a look at the posts on this site. Do a Google search on either. They're everywhere (at least in my Internet world) and everyone is talking about them or writing like them or including them in their own world in some way.

[But on the other hand...?]

Vicars appear regularly in romance fiction as secondary characters. Who can forget Jane Austen’s clergymen—the obsequious Mr. Collins in Pride and Prejudice, the vain and greedy Philip Elton in Emma, the admirable Edmund Bertram in Mansfield Park? Less memorable is the worthy vicar in Georgette Heyer’s Arabella whose character is best revealed in the values he has imparted to his daughter. Heyer set the precedent here as in so many ways; vicars in popular romance are most commonly fathers or, somewhat less often, deceased husbands of the heroines. A quick count of just my personal catalog yielded more than seventy historical romances that feature a vicar’s daughter or a vicar’s widow.

In many of these books, the vicar is not a character in the true sense; his presence is restricted to references and memories. In others, he plays a definite role. Authors may choose to make the vicar a man with a true vocation beloved by his family and parish (Anthony Drew whose character is revealed through the memories of his wife and daughters in Mrs. Drew Plays Her Hand by Carla Kelly), flawed in a way that marks him as clearly unsuited for his office (the heroine’s father in Father Christmas by Barbara Metzger), or steeped in villainy (the morally corrupt Dorian Thorne in Dame Durden’s Daughter by Joan Smith or the Reverend Jack Gardeyne in Skylark by Jo Beverley).

Rare indeed is the vicar as hero. In fact, after much searching, I found only nine historical romances featuring vicars as heroes that I can recommend: seven I recommend with a warning that they range from the sweet to the spicy, from the simple to the complex, and from the light-hearted to the angst-ridden. The last two I place in a separate category: one because it is already widely considered a classic of historical romance, and the other (one of the most popular titles of 2012) because I predict it will someday be so labeled.

[Bring on the vicar heroes...]

***Many, many major LBD spoilers ahead***

*You’ve been warned*

Lizzie started out the week in Episode 87 wallowing in guilt about how she failed Lydia who was still pretty much not talking, she was so sick with grief at George’s betrayal. Jane stopped by to comfort Lizzie and brought her chamomile tea. Jane promised her that she still deserved tea even though she screwed up. Everyone deserves tea.

Then Lydia came to talk to Lizzie insisting that she wanted the camera stay on as she pours out her feelings of guilt (unwarranted!), loneliness (poor baby!), and betrayal (that bastard!). Lydia ends up sobbing in her sister’s arms as Lizzie kept repeating that she was going to be right there with her.

*sobs into empty teacup* I wanted to hug Lydia for letting that rat Wickham make her feel anything less than loved and valuable.  I wanted to hug Lizzie for taking any of the blame for that manipulative jerk’s actions. I wanted to hug Jane for knowing the right thing to say to help her sisters come back together again.

[Then things started to get really interesting...]

One of the beautiful things about The Lizzie Bennet Diaries—and of course Pride and Prejudice—is the deliciously slow development of the relationship. One of the things they did right in the adaptation was to hold on to that slow, reluctant fall into love.

Which for the viewers means more all of those romantic moments, when every touch and glance is filled with meaning. And in my opinion in The Lizzie Bennet Diaries, no moments are more romantic than those with Darcy and Lizzie. The first appearances of Darcy are stories told about him or—even better!—costume theater portrayal of him by one of the other characters. Way back in episode 15, “Lizzie Bennet is in Denial,” Charlotte and Jane act out a scene at Carter’s bar where Darcy delivers the much loved line about Lizzie’s fine eyes. In episode 31, “Convertible Carpool,” Lizzie tells us at 3:16 that Darcy “stares at me constantly. It’s like I’m a traffic accident and he just can’t look away.” In episode 33, “Nope He Doesn’t Like Me,” Jane takes another hilarious turn at portraying Darcy who tells Lizzie that he wouldn’t dare hate her (at 3:11).

[Then the man himself arrives on the scene...]

On January 28, 1813,  publisher Thomas Egerton released Jane Austen's Pride & Prejudice. In the 200 years since, this single novel has become a sizable industry, spawning not only repeated reprints of the original and foreign language editions (the first French edition of Pride & Prejudice was published the same year as the book's debut) but thousands (yes, thousands) of  novels based on the book and even more web-based fan fiction, not to mention children's books, comic books, annotated editions, picture books, movies, television mini-series, spoofs (both written and filmed), and YouTube videos.

Rather than reel off numbers, let's take a look at some examples of what Jane Austen hath wrought.

It's hard to draw the line between fan fiction and sequels or retellings, but I guess we'll use whether or not the work in question has been published and is for sale. I'm afraid that, otherwise, it's not always possible to make the distinction. When I first engaged with Janeites online, Pride & Prejudice fan fiction was rampant. We still have remnants of those halcyon days at The Republic of Pemberly Bits of Ivory Archive. And it's still going strong at other sites like The Derbyshire Writers' Guild. Some of these “inspired-by” stories have been quite good (and some not).

[You win some, you lose some...]

A wonderful, delightful distraction that is fast becoming my (and others') greatest obsession is the The Lizzie Bennet Diaries (LBD), an online modern adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. In it, Lizzie is a young graduate student finishing her final year of school. In lieu of a senior thesis, she starts a vlog, or a video blog. She sits in her bedroom, with her best friend Charlotte Lu as her cameraman, and tells the story of her family and friends. Sometimes she and Charlotte act out parts of the story. With costumes! And props! And as time goes by, all the major characters make an appearance on the vlog.

Some arrivals are more anticipated than others.

Each episode is only five minutes or so long, but in those few minutes, the writers cram so much of what I love about the characters of Pride and Prejudice into a modern story of friends and family. And all their mistakes and failings are there to see, but updated. And therefore they say as much about our time as they do about the beloved characters themselves.

[And then there's Darcy and Bing Lee (!!!)...]

Many authors have taken inspiration for their books from classics. The inspiration can range from using a name or a setting, to using entire scenarios from the originals, albeit written in a different way. It's similar to fan fiction, but not always quite as derivative (not meant in a pejorative way, just a description of how most fan fic reads).

Of course most have at least heard of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, where Seth Grahame-Smith inserted the undead into Jane Austen's classic story. Jane Slayre is a P and P and Zombies-style tweak where Jane is a vampyre-slayer. And authors are inserting (pun intended) certain types of content into books that lacked it—at least overtly—before.

New release Jane Eyre Laid Bare is an erotic retelling of the Bronte classic. As the blurb says, the original story simmered with sexual tension, but never actually revealed the action—it was written in 1847, after all. But there are so many sexual indicators throughout the original, from Jane's first meeting with Rochester, when he's seated on top of a huge black horse, to their discussions by the fire at Thornfield.

[Reader, I swooned...]

When I was thirteen years old, I attended my very first concert, and it was Rick Springfield's. *swoon* He was my first rock star hero crush. I was convinced he would see me in the crowd, fall madly in love with me, and we would be married. If you read my byline, you’ll see my last name is NOT Springfield. Alas, it was not meant to be, though I’m secretly convinced he mourns this everyday.

From that day on, I’ve had a love for bad boys. Especially those in bands. In my teens and twenties I tended to gravitate towards boys who played in bands, especially if they played guitar—guitars made me hot. The more intense and broody they were, the more I was attracted. I even married a bad boy, though his days of raising Cain are over and he’s more apt to rage against the grill than society.

[Rock on...]

There exists a very special bond. You know the one. That particular kind of friendship that emerges from men that go through especially trying times together. That point where the only way to get over the next hill is by having that close friend right behind you, pushing all the way. And while this kind of connection is hard to define, we have come up with only one word to explain it in our limited language: The Bromance.

Now in no way is this list complete. I mean I'm no expert or anything. I've never experienced that true connection between Vishous and Butch—I know, I'm a bad person. This is just a short collection of some of my favorite Bros from some of my favorite genres.

[Feel the brotherly love…]

Every day people flirt, fight, and confess via Twitter, Instant Message, e-mail, and text. These technologies are showing up all over the pages of today’s fiction (After all, where would Christian and Ana be without e-mail?).

What would our favorite characters have to say upon logging on to Twitter? What gossip would they exchange via text? The ladies over at thehairpin.com bring the world of Jane Austen into the 21st century with these texts between Jane Eyre and Rochester, capture the diva that is Scarlet O’Hara in these texts, and reign supreme in the world of teenage angst with these Sweet Valley High texts. We’ve even featured historical romance author Kieran Kramer’s take on how the ladies of Pride and Prejudice would rock Twitter.

Which characters would you most like to see engage in a text conversation? What hero and/or heroine’s Twitter account would you follow?

Text screen shot via Barnorama.

Today we welcome Jennifer Probst to Heroes and Heartbreakers to discuss the very real adage that “opposites attract.” Jennifer’s The Marriage Bargain has taken readers by storm, landing on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal’s bestseller lists, with a print version coming soon. 

Thanks for joining us, Jennifer!

(Be sure to enter Jennifer’s sweepstakes for a chance to win a digital copy of The Marriage Bargain! Details and rules at the bottom of the page.)

Confession time.

I adore romance novels where the main hero and heroine are complete opposites. Immediately, a thrill launches through me and in a capable writer’s hands, I become putty. There is something exciting about watching two people who have nothing in common fight the journey of a happily ever after. The harder the fight, the more satisfaction I get in the end. The strong ones not only resist the burgeoning physical attraction, but also reach deep and fight back with their minds, heart, and soul. I secretly know it will all end well, but watching the journey play out brings some of the most satisfying romance novels on the page.

[Sometimes, it really is about the journey...]

Linguist and author Deborah Tannen describes the unique bond of sisterhood as the “the coming together of connection and competition.” Tannen also talks about the ways that families often define sisters in terms of each other, thus creating identifying labels (i.e., the smart one and the pretty one, the bookworm and the athlete, the belle and the loner, etc.) that may become lifelong baggage to display with pride or refute with vigor. The ties and tangles of sisterly relationships are staples of women’s fiction, of course, but they occur frequently in romance fiction as well, serving, to borrow a phrase from Eloisa James, as “counterpoint to the hero.”

Jane Austen, whose sister Cassandra served as friend and confidante, created some of the most famous fictional sisters. The Dashwood sisters were the first to be introduced to the world, and Anne Elliot proves how uncomforting and uncongenial sisters can be. Best known of Austen’s sisters are the Bennets of Pride and Prejudice (1813): Jane, Elizabeth, Mary, Kitty, and Lydia.

[Who doesn’t know the Bennet girls?...]

What would Pride and Prejudice be like if people had Twitter accounts back then? I’d love to find out. An event like the local assembly in Meryton would be a great topic for a hashtag and a flurry of Tweets!

(Not familiar with how Twitter works? Read a quick tutorial and then dive right into the fun.)

[Tweet, tweet!...]

TheBookseller.com reports:

Faber is to publish a new detective novel from acclaimed mystery author P. D. James which combines a murder investigation with the world and characters of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, revisiting Darcy and Elizabeth six years into their marriage.

Death Comes to Pemberley will be published on November 3rd as an £18.99 hardback.

To which I can only say, “Oh, good grief!”

[Why do you say that?...]

Definitely Not Mr. Darcy
Karen Doornebos
Penguin Group, September 6, 2011, $15.00

Chloe Parker was born two centuries too late. A thirty-nine-year-old divorced mother, she runs her own antique letterpress business, is a lifelong member of the Jane Austen Society, and gushes over everything Regency. But her business is failing, threatening her daughter’s future. What’s a lady to do?

Why, audition for a Jane Austen-inspired TV show set in England, of course.

What Chloe thinks is a documentary turns out to be a reality dating show set in 1812. Eight women are competing to snare Mr. Wrightman, the heir to a gorgeous estate, along with a $100,000 prize. So Chloe tosses her bonnet into the ring, hoping to transform from stressed-out Midwest mom to genteel American heiress and win the money. With no cell phones, indoor plumbing, or deodorant to be found, she must tighten her corset and flash some ankle to beat out women younger, more cutthroat, and less clumsy than herself. But the witty and dashing Mr. Wrightman proves to be a prize worth winning, even if it means the gloves are off...

[This I’ve gotta see...]