My Vampire Lover

My Vampire Lover
by J. P. Bowie
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Copyright ©2008 by J.P. Bowie
First published in 2008, 2008

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My Vampire Lover
by J. P. Bowie
CONTENTS
MYVAMPIRE LOVER
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Epilogue
About the Author
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My Vampire Lover
by J. P. Bowie
A Total-e-bound Publication

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My Vampire Lover
ISBN # 978-1-906590-15-4
©Copyright J.P. Bowie 2008
Cover Art by Anne Cain ©Copyright February 2008
Edited by Michele Paulin
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This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author's imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

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My Vampire Lover
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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-e-bound eBooks.

 

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-e-bound eBooks. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

 

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2008 by Total-e-bound eBooks 1 The Corner, Faldingworth Road, Spridlington, Market Rasen, Lincolnshire, LN8 2DE, UK.
Warning:
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-burning. 5
My Vampire Lover
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MY VAMPIRE LOVER
J. P. Bowie
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My Vampire Lover
by J. P. Bowie

Dedication

For Phil. Always.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Google: Google Inc.
Chianti: Consorzio Vino Chianti Classico Consortium Honda Civic: Honda Motor Co.
Lois Lane: DC Comics, Warner Communications
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My Vampire Lover
by J. P. Bowie

Prologue
Paris, France, 1906

 

He stood in the windswept graveyard, looking down at the neatly tended earth. His eyes roamed the few spent and withering flowers, then rested on the words inscribed on the white, polished granite tombstone.

Jean-Claude Lepeltier
Artist
1876-1906
R.I.P.

His lips parted in a small smile. As a flurry of snowflakes blew around his face, he pulled his greatcoat about him, in a gesture born of habit, but one that would soon become foreign to him—for he could no longer feel the cold.

 

He turned his smile on the man who stood by his side. "Do you think anyone will miss me?" he asked his companion.

"Undoubtedly," the man replied, taking Jean-Claude's arm and leading him from the darkening cemetery. "Those who loved you will weep, those who admired your work will curse the fates for taking one with so much talent before his allotted time. Yes, you will be mourned. The real question is, will you miss anyone you have left behind?"

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My Vampire Lover
by J. P. Bowie

"One or two, only..." Jean-Claude frowned, thinking. "My mother, of course ... it truly hurt to see her so devastated at the news of my death. I must provide for her in some way, Henri."

"I have already taken care of that." They paused at the cemetery gates where their hansom cab awaited them. "The sale of your paintings at auction will realise a vast amount of money." Henri's chuckle was without mirth. "Ironically, much more than if you still lived. I have arranged a trust fund for your mother out of the profits, and the rest is invested in your name in a bank in Hamburg."

"You think of everything," Jean-Claude said, squeezing his friend's arm. "And Paul?"
"Ah, yes ... young Paul. It is best he learns to forget you."
"But, he will be lost without me."
"Only for a little time, Jean-Claude. Then he will find another to take care of him. A person like Paul lives on his wits—and his beauty." "Still, I would not want him to fall upon hard times."
Henri sighed impatiently. "Very well. I will see that he receives a small stipend to save him from 'hard times'."
Jean-Claude cast his warm smile again on Henri. "Thank you, my friend. I know you do not think highly of Paul, but he has a winning charm." Henri's smile was tight. "Which he's used shamelessly to get what he wants and still does, it seems."

They climbed into the carriage without another word and proceeded at a leisured pace towards their destination. Jean-Claude pushed his back into a corner of the cab and stared 9

My Vampire Lover
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out the window as they passed through the dark streets of Paris now lying under a fine layer of snow.
"Will you miss Paris?" Henri asked him.

"Yes. I have known no other home for close to thirty years." He sighed and shrugged his slender shoulders. "Of course, it would not do for me to be seen here. Your suggestion that I go to America seems sound. America holds a promise I feel it will keep. And you, Henri? What will you do?" "I will spend the rest of my life promulgating your legend so that Paris never forgets your brilliance as an artist."

 

Jean-Claude blinked back the tears that had sprung to his eyes. "Thank you, Henri. You have been my most amazing friend. How can I ever repay you?"

"By allowing me to give you one last gift before you leave."
Jean-Claude's eyes glistened as he took his friend's hand in his own. "You would do that for me?"

"As a token of my love and admiration for you, yes I would." He moved closer to Jean-Claude and loosened his starched shirt collar. "Here, my beloved friend, take enough to sustain your strength."

 

"It may hurt you," Jean-Claude whispered, his lips on Henri's neck.

 

The scent of Henri's blood coursing through his jugular vein made Jean-Claude's senses reel. He felt his incisors extend, scraping the smooth skin, causing Henri to flinch, involuntary. Jean-Claude drew back. "You are afraid."

"No, no. Go on," Henri murmured, his eyes closed, his hand clasping Jean-Claude's. He gasped as he felt sharp teeth 10 My Vampire Lover
by J. P. Bowie
break through his skin. He moaned as Jean-Claude's lips and tongue worked at sucking the blood that oozed from the wound on his neck.

"Oh, dear God," he whispered, feeling his body fill with a sensual need. He clutched at Jean-Claude, holding his head, pushing him harder against his neck.

"Enough!"
Henri opened his eyes to see his friend's face creased with concern. "Enough, Henri. Any more, and you would die."

Henri pressed his face to Jean-Claude's chest, listening to the strong beating of his heart. He did not say the words he thought, "Willingly, for you," but he was content to stay within Jean-Claude's warm embrace until the hansom cab stopped outside the railway station.

"Thank you, my friend." The two men gazed at each other, Henri seeing his own reflection in the dark blue of Jean-Claude's eyes. "I will never forget you, nor what you have done for me." Jean-Claude kissed his friend gently on his lips then pushed the carriage door open and stepped down into the cold night air.

"Think of me now and then," he said, with a smile, picking up his bags the driver had laid at his feet.
Henri fought back the tears that burned his eyes. "I will never forget you, Jean-Claude. Never."

With sad smiles, the two friends parted company—one, back to the life he had always known—the other, to begin a journey that would take him to a distant shore—and to begin a new life that, if the fates decreed, would never end.

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My Vampire Lover
by J. P. Bowie

On the morning of the night I met the man who would forever change my life, my brother, Jonas, had called me to say he and his husband, Ted, would be in town for a couple of days over the weekend—and could they stay over at my place?
Chapter One
West Hollywood: Present day

 

"Sure," I told him, "and maybe you'd both like to go dancing Saturday night."

My brother is two years older than me, and at thirty, he's already been in a five year relationship with Ted. They live up in Portland but come down to LA about twice a year—usually on short notice, like the time I'm talking about. That was okay though, because, until I met him, I really didn't have a life. Oh, I had friends, boyfriends on a couple of occasions, and a fairly decent job managing a small Italian restaurant.

It just all seemed kind of pointless at times—a dead end, if you will. I would become restless or listless when I gave too much thought to it, so I tried not to.

 

Jonas was always on about me moving up to Portland—a much healthier town that LA, in his opinion. Maybe he was right, but I liked LA—the noise, the crowds, the endless traffic. It was alive, vibrant, and to me, home.

 

After hanging up the phone from my long talk with my brother, I started to get ready for work. I was lucky—I could walk there from my apartment on Rugby. No traffic snarls for me to contend with. La Fortuna, the little restaurant I 12

My Vampire Lover
by J. P. Bowie