& Moira Bianchi: PRINCE


A very different Pride and Prejudice fanfiction.

For a long time this particular plot has been looping in my head, this ultimate 'what if': What if you really have a person destined to be yours - your half orange - and when you find each other either you or he/she are committed?

When I met my hubs, he was pratically engaged and I had a steady boyfriend but one thing let to another and... six months later we started dating. Fate?

I always wondered 'what if' Darcy hadn't accepted to accompany Bingley to Netherfield, Elizabeth had fallen for Wickham or Collin (urgh!) and he had married Anne de Bourgh (urgh²!)? Then, when they finally met, both Elizabeth and Darcy would be committed and what would they do? Suck it up or stop-reset-restart?

The moment one have the courage to take the leap of faith is the major theme of my new story:



What started as a novella ended up growing to a big story of 

3 prologues + 34 chapters + 1 epilogue divided in 3 books:


Being this book about second chances and leaps of faith, there are a few disclaimers:

- I have had experience posting and not posting my books before self publishing. Monetary gain is not my primary objective so I decided to post this one. It'll be here and some of it on Fanfiction.net;
- Like my previous stories, this one is rated MA. There will be sex ahead. Lots;
- This story is not totally about, but deals majorly with adultery. I don’t want to advertise pro or against it, it’s just part of this Dizzy story. I am married for 17 years already, this is our first marriage and my hubs & I never had to deal with what this story entails but we have friends who have been in these situations so I write with ‘some’ accuracy. Hubs has participated on the creation of this story and we discussed the situations in details... He says Mr D would never do it (really?);
- The characters are freely based on people and/or situations I saw as a close friend or professionally. Although the colors are saturated, everything is kinda based on true situations;
My Elizabeths are strong and opinionated. Don’t expect moaning kittens, they are more like bitches. This one in particular;
- Ex-wives and ex-husbands cannot be easy to deal with, I respect that, but my story is about a one side of broken marriages. The other sides, either wronged or avenged or victimized are another kettle of fish (that I won’t write about);
- A marriage is very, very, very difficult to keep healthy. It’s a daily struggle (as any relationship, I guess). So, again, this story's four major characters are to blame, there are no victims here. I put a lot of thought in this story and it took me a year to wrap it;
- Jane and her... love insterest will have a side story. Sometime soon;
- There had been parts already posted here, here and here, but it was all changed in revision.

Well, that's a lot said and this story may be totally or mostly or nothing at all changed/revised before self publishing. It will also be betaed eventually but for now, I think it's really good.

Playlist is already on!

Pinterest board too!

Siga o painel Prince Darcy de Moira no Pinterest.

Darcy is freely inspired by the talented Tom Ford and Lizzy on the adorable Liv Tyler. 


Have fun!




It´s a truth universally acknowledged, as well as feared, that fate has its twisted ways to dispose of our lives. And of all alignments the planets on my chart could assume, this one is especially whimsical.

I should refrain from behaving like a risk-taking girl excited about poking a hornet’s nest. I’m in my forties, after all. Actually, coming to think of it, I’ve been feeding this mess since I was 13.

You see, I was a regular teenager from a small coast city in Rio de Janeiro estate called Merytônia and the British School my sisters and I attended had branches worldwide. My older sister Jane and I took part actively in our school’s Youth Group believing ourselves links of a chain that would revolutionize the planet fighting passionately for humanity.

But the group’s biggest achievement wasn’t a revolution during the Cold War years; it was bringing people closer in a pre-internet world. I was curious and outgoing so I made friends all over, one British guy in special.

He was seventeen, an arrogant senior secretary for the International board, I was secretary for the Brazilian board therefore we exchanged documents often – as often as our posts allowed - and before we noticed, we were friends. We loved each other’s insights that eventually escalated from small notes attached to documents to thick letters independent of the Youth Group. We sent each other small gifts; shared inner thoughts and aspirations for a future that we dreamt would be bright and adventurous.

Time passed, the ideals of a better world met real life, college, lovers, careers and we grew apart; but there was always that... gap in my chest that only his letters could fill. Eventually the gap effaced as I lived on, married a good man, had two lovely kids.
Suddenly, decades had gone by.

A few months ago, on the verge of turning forty and starting my PhD abroad, by chance, out of nowhere, while casually surfing the net, I found Darcy's name crowning a big company’s organogram.

I knew it couldn't be the same Fitzwilliam Darcy but what if it was? It could only be some astrological midlife revolution positioning Uranus against Uranus in my birth chart but I was very excited with the possibility of finding my dear friend after so long! Of course I wrote him a note! (By the way, Darcy says Uranus against Uranus is rubbish.)

To my surprise, it was him! He answered soon after and we reconnected instantly, as if time hadn’t passed at all. He's married to a cousin and has two teenage daughters. And he missed me as much as I missed him.

Only, at first, I didn’t realize how much…

We started talking daily, met as often as we could, crossing continents and oceans, united our families and kept thirsty for our friendship.

One thing led to another and now… I don’t know where this will lead us.

Lines are blurring in front of my eyes and I find myself loosing the ability to discern how I truly feel from what I should feel opposed to what I want to feel.

I’m standing on a cliff, my toes curled on the edge. Should I jump?

An old yearbook quote keeps coming back to me: “Don’t overanalyze what you feel, autopsies only exist where there’s no longer life.”

Oh, I need a cigarette. And a dose of Darcy’s single malt whisky. See? I need him to stop thinking about him…

How did it come to this? Well, like I said, it started with a note:

“Sorry to bother but, when a young girl, I used to correspond with the most presumptuous person I had ever met, so much so that he could only have blue blood in his veins. The heir of the richest estate-country in the whole England, His Royal Highness the Prince of Pemberley, had your name exactly and was a close friend who I miss dearly.

At the time, I was a passionate human rights enthusiast and HRH shared my views for a better world, as long as they didn’t disturb his kingdom’s peaceful life.

If, by an ingenious twist of fate it is you, please reply.


Your always loyal subject

Elizabeth Wickham, Bart. (Née Bennett)”




It´s a truth universally acknowledged, as well as feared, that fate has its twisted ways to dispose of our lives. In my case, fate is not only whimsical but cruel.

It all started with a note I sent Darcy last year. A silly, innocent note and now I'm in this wretched situation.

You see, I was a regular thirteen years old Brazilian girl when I befriended a seventeen years old British boy through my school’s Youth Group. In short, this is how we became friends -although thirty something words can hardly describe twenty seven years: he was an arrogant douche, I hated him, we fought through letters (pen on paper, stamps, post – the old stuff), he won me over, we became best pen friends, lost contact when young adults, found each other in adulthood.

Now I’m forty and maybe I could see myself as a victim in my current life's situation if I didn’t know better... Maybe if I had expected the onslaught of changes my PhD program abroad would bring me or the giddy happiness Darcy would produce, I could have had a plan but... The simple note, the flirt with my past, brought me a landslide of emotions I was not prepared to face.

Or fight.

He didn't foresee the aftermath of our friendship's renewal either. Fitzwilliam Darcy and I belonged to each other when teenagers, before morphing into the adults we became. Seeing him now feels like a travel back in time, a bubble, a portal between dimensions. The weirdness is that it almost seems allowed... Does such a thing as a bubble exist?

We are irrevocably in love with each other and I dread what our planets' alignments will bring us next. Gone are the misunderstandings and beating around the bushes, the metaphors and bashfulness... We were both swept off our feet and now... Lovers, cheaters but most of all, friends.

My sister Jane pesters me about it. Darcy’s cousin, Graham Fitzwilliam, tells him to find a way out.

How did it come to this? Well, like I said, it started with that note...




It´s a truth universally acknowledged, as well as feared, that fate has its twisted ways to dispose of our lives and well, when it comes to Darcy’s life and mine, fate has been working on its Sistine chapel. Really a masterpiece.

Three years ago, casually surfing the net while preparing to start my PhD abroad, I found my long time, long lost and much missed pen friend Fitzwilliam Darcy. It had been over fifteen years since we had last spoken (through pen on paper, stamps, post – the old stuff) and life had made adults of the passionate and self-important teenagers we had been.

When we first exchanged letters, I was a regular 13 years old Brazilian girl and he a 17 years old British rich heir, snob and arrogant as if he had blue blood in his veins. We hated each other, we bickered and we became the best of (distant) friends. Then fate intruded changing our planets’ alignment and we lost contact for 17 years.

Meeting Darcy again as a forty years old adult woman, wife, mother and professional didn’t prepare me for the violent attack of the past, the bittersweet pleasure of finding a kindred soul, the giddiness of flirting and loving someone who I had once loved before.

Do I make sense? Probably not.

Our lives are completely changed now, and if all is fair in love and war, we are well into one. I have to care for small children and my PhD while my ugly divorce moves sluggishly. He has his young ladies, a profitable company and a difficult divorce facing not only his ex-wife but her mother as well. It seems that with the struggle to move each step forward, we are dragged two steps back.

There’s still a lot to fight for, a lot to love, a lot to share.

Sometimes we refuse to let our difficulties blind us and we are just the teenagers who met by old fashioned post. Young giddy lovers and giggling fools letting our excitement guide us.
Giddiness was exactly what started this revolution in my life three years ago with that silly note.

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