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Frostfellows
Frostfellows
Frostfellows
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Frostfellows

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Book two of The Beautiful Creatures of Beverly Hills series picks up where the first left off. Lara’s decision to use death to thwart the plans of the Countess, Eudora, has worked. Unfortunately, it has worked in ways that Lara could not have imagined. Josh is returned to her, but he is... different.

Meanwhile, the Countess will not be denied. When she discovers that she has been outmaneuvered, she devises a revenge to extract more than her pound of flesh from Josh, his family and his friends.

From the author of #1 Teen Horror novel Boyfriend From Hell and The Falling Angels Saga comes a new paranormal series that asks the question “Do you believe in soulmates?”

LanguageEnglish
PublisherE. Van Lowe
Release dateJun 20, 2016
ISBN9781311729224
Frostfellows
Author

E. Van Lowe

E. Van Lowe is an author, television writer, screen-writer, playwright and producer who has worked on such TV shows as "The Cosby Show," "Even Stevens," and "Homeboys In Outer Space." He has been nominated for both an Emmy and an Academy Award. His first YA Paranormal novel, "Never Slow Dance With A Zombie," was a selection of The Scholastic Book Club, and a nominee for an American Library Association Award. His Best Selling novels, "Boyfriend From Hell" and "Earth Angel," are the first two books in the Falling Angels Saga. "Heaven Sent" and "Falling" complete the saga.E lives in Beverly Hills California with his spouse, a werewolf, several zombies and a fairy godmother who grants him wishes from time-to-time.

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    Book preview

    Frostfellows - E. Van Lowe

    FROSTFELLOWS

    Book Two

    The Beautiful Creatures of Beverly Hills

    E. Van Lowe

    Frostfellows

    Published by EViL E Books

    a division of Sweet Lorraine Productions Publishing

    Copyright © 2016 E. Van Lowe

    Edited by: SolaFide Publishing & Camille Pollock

    Art direction by Jim Seidelman

    This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

    ISBN:--

    Library of Congress Control Number: --

    To request permission to reprint any portion of the book, e-mail info@evanlowe.com

    Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere,

    they’re in each other all along

    - Rumi

    Before

    When you’re a kid growing up, life is a Santa’s sack filled with dreams just waiting to spill out and amaze you. When you’re a kid growing up in the slums of Beverly Hills, a silent observer to all that is truly possible, you learn to dream big.

    For me and my friends Alan, and Conner, the school year was for dreaming, and summertime was for the fulfilment of those big dreams. All winter long we’d plot, and plan, and scheme, our eyes filled with the shining stars of our summertime dreams.

    For us, each summer was an adventure filled with unseen possibilities, an endless, meandering stream that we could dip into at any time and come up with a handful of miracles. Summertime is special for any kid, but for us it was more than special, for us it was a blessing sent down by God himself.

    Yet no matter how much fun we were having, eventually the fall winds would begin to blow, and our summer times would come to a grinding halt. We’d head back to school knowing full well our summer dreams had not been fulfilled. But it really didn’t matter because there was always next year. You see, for us, dreaming wasn’t about achieving our dreams; dreaming was about keeping the stars in our eyes. Dreaming was about dreaming.

    That all changed the summer of my sixteenth birthday when Conner did a cannonball into Alan’s backyard swimming pool. That’s when we discovered there were things in the world you couldn’t dream, things in the world you couldn’t even imagine.

    I met Lara, my soulmate, that summer, drawn to her by the siren’s song that had been playing in my mind since birth, catching our souls in its gravitational pull, and forever drawing us closer together. I discovered the world of the Nereid that summer, a race of water nymphs who walked and talked and looked just like us, a world existing right under our noses, hidden in plain sight. There was the world of the sea trolls called Lycorians, the Nereids’ sworn enemy, an enemy that nearly cost my friend Alan his life.

    It was an enchanting first half of summer, filled with love, adventure, and surprises. Mine was a summer to die for, and that’s just what I did. I was murdered on a hot summer night by the girl I gave my heart to. I didn’t see it coming, but how could I? There’s a saying you always hurt the one you love. I guess I’m proof of that, killed by the one I loved, the one who loved me.

    That was the sum total of the first half of my summer of awakening, a summer that left me to wonder…

    Why did this happen to me?

    Can I still love the girl who killed me?

    Where do I go from here?

    In my wildest dreams, I couldn’t possibly have imagined what would happen next.

    ___

    I wake up screaming.

    I know the reason I’m screaming is the dreams, although I don’t remember any of them. Not a one. They’re horrible dreams, enough to make me scream, I know that, but I don’t remember them.

    I’m screaming so loud I can hear my cries echoing off the walls. I’m screaming so loud I can wake the dead. Yet the dreams are gone the moment I open my eyes. They vanish instantly, like puffs of breath in frosty air. Speaking of frosty air, it is cold in here. Somebody please turn up the heat.

    I can’t move. I know I’m not supposed to move. I don’t know how I know, I just do. I begin looking around for someone to turn up the heat.

    It’s… so… freakin’… cold.

    Two people are standing nearby, looking at me with hope in their eyes. When they see me staring back, they smile.

    Alan. One of them is my best friend, Alan Feinman. He’s wearing the most comfortable looking terrycloth bathrobe. It looks so warm. I want one. He seems happy to see me. The other person is female. I do not recognize her, but she seems happy as well.

    "You’re back," the female says. Her smile widens.

    I guess I went somewhere.

    "H…H…H…" I am trying to tell them to turn up the heat, but I can’t form the words.

    Where am I?

    It dawns on me I have no idea where I am, but I know my parents are worried about me. I don’t know how I know. I just do.

    I look around. I am in a stark white room with ceramic tile walls. I am lying in a metal tub, submerged up to my neck in icy water. No wonder I’m so cold.

    Alan approaches. Hey, Buttsniffer.

    Good one.

    "Thank you for what you did for me," he says.

    What did I do?

    I smile at him. At least, I’m trying to smile. Since I can’t talk I decide to communicate with my face. I wonder what expression says ‘turn up the heat?’

    "You’re freezing," the female says. She has moved in close—a girl about my age, with short blond hair, and incredible green eyes. Alan’s girlfriend?

    I can’t remember.

    She knows I’m freezing, so I begin nodding like a bobble head, hoping she’ll turn up the heat. At least, that’s what I’m trying to communicate. I hope she understands.

    "We’ll have you out of there shortly," she says.

    Thank you.

    She leans in and kisses me on the lips. Okay, she’s not Alan’s girlfriend, at least I hope she isn’t. There’s too much going on with that kiss.

    I know this girl.

    The ghost of a thought is hovering near the recesses of my mind, telling me I know her. The thought won’t come.

    "H… H… Heat, please." I finally manage two words.

    "In a minute, Buddy," says Alan. Is that a tear rolling down his cheek?

    "We’ll have you out of there as soon as we can, the girl says. And then she says I’m so sorry."

    Those last three words sound very familiar.

    I’m… so sorry.

    I’m too cold right now to think about where I’ve heard the words before, but I’m not too cold to wonder…

    What am I doing here?

    Chapter One

    I was surprised that we wound up in the girl’s bedroom. Let’s face it, guys like Alan and me rarely wind up in the homes of pretty girls, much less their bedrooms. Trust me, we’ve tried.

    I wasn’t complaining. I was now wearing a nice, warm terrycloth robe, just like the one Alan had on and the feeling was returning to my extremities.

    The room was very girly, done all in pink. There were framed and unframed lines of verse hanging on the walls. Some of the verse had been scrawled on loose leaf paper and then randomly taped here and there. While I found the décor strange, the room was bright, sunny, and warm. Just what the doctor ordered.

    Lie down over there, on the chaise in the sunlight, the girl said, pointing. That should warm you right up.

    That’s exactly what I was thinking. The chaise was in front of a big picture window, and bathed in sunny warmth. Thanks, I replied. The word rasped up my throat, as if coming out of a busted tailpipe.

    The hoarfrost bath worked, I heard the girl say. Her voice was cracking. It worked on all of us.

    It did, said Alan, and the tone of his voice shifted as well. He glanced over at me as I took up residence on the chaise lounge. Thanks again, Buddy. You saved my life.

    I didn’t like the way he was looking at me. I didn’t like the tone of his voice, either. He was being way too serious. Serious is not our thing. And what was with the ‘saved my life’ talk? It was making me nervous.

    I tried diving into my memory banks to make some sense out of how I’d come to be here in the girl’s bedroom, and what Alan was talking about. It was the strangest thing. No matter how deep I dug, my memory wasn’t all there. It was sketchy, at best. I knew who Alan was. I remembered Conner, my parents, and that we all lived in Beverly Hills, south of the boulevard. Aside from that, things were foggy.

    The girl was one of those foggy things.

    She was pretty, and seemed nice. She was also very concerned about me. I knew I was supposed to know her—a friend, perhaps—but I didn’t. I hadn’t a clue who she was.

    You need some breakfast, she said, smiling over at me. We all do.

    I squinted at her in the sunlight. Yes, yes. I’m starving, I said, returning her smile. Could you get me a little something, please? The rasp in my voice was starting to clear up. Good.

    When I asked for breakfast, the smile on the girl’s face turned to one that could have scorched my soul. It was that radiant. Yes, of course, sweetheart.

    Sweetheart? Okay, now, wait a minute. Only my mother calls me that.

    In that moment something came to me—not in my head. It was something I felt. This girl before me was a woman of substance. I don’t know how I knew it, I just did. Thank you, I replied.

    I wasn’t hungry. I felt disoriented and confused, and I was hoping once the girl was out of the room that my old pal, Alan, could help fill in the gaps in my memory. Gaps was an understatement, my memory was Swiss cheesed with deep craters.

    The girl came to me. She sat beside me on the lounge, and kissed me gently on the lips. Can I get you anything special? she asked in a sweet, breathy tone.

    Nope. Surprise me, I said smiling into her eyes. It was a false smile, meant to get rid of her. Just go, already.

    No avocado, she said with a giggle.

    Wha?

    Umm, right, I replied.

    Be right back, she called to Alan. She kissed me again, lightly on the cheek, and dashed from the room, eager to get on with her breakfast mission.

    Once she was gone, Alan came over and sat at the foot of the lounge. We had one heck of a night last night, Josh, he said.

    We did. But there’s one thing about last night that really bothers me.

    Just one, he said with a wry smile. What’s that?

    I don’t remember any of it.

    Good one, he said, releasing a restrained laugh.

    "I’m serious, Alan. I don’t remember last night; I don’t remember yesterday, or the day before, or the day before that; I don’t remember that girl; and I have no idea what I’m doing here."

    He stared at me long and hard, and I could tell he was trying to see if I was messin’ with his head. I stared back, not breaking eye contact.

    But you know me?

    Yes. And I know who my parents are, and I know Conner, and I know where we live.

    But you don’t know Lara?

    Is that her name?

    Alan bounded up from the lounge. Stop, Dude, you’re scaring me.

    "Imagine how I feel. I’m scared, Alan. I wake up in a strange place, and my memory is gone—just like that."

    There was something about the tone of my voice that conveyed to him how frightened I was.

    Oh, man! he said, and plopped back down on the lounge beside me. There’s so much to tell.

    Good. Before Lara gets back, can you please start filling in the holes.

    Alan began filling me in, and he was right—there was a lot that had happened, and most of it sounded unbelievable. A creature living in his pool, water nymphs living next door, an ice bath that could bring the near dead back to life.

    Some of it sounded familiar, as if I’d dreamt it a long time ago. Names like Alexia Dupree and Roxanne Dupree all seemed recognizable, and yet they didn’t. I knew the names from somewhere, but the people behind the names seemed lost in a fog.

    I had hoped that once he began talking, my memory would get jogged into returning, but all I heard was words, most of which made no sense. Nothing was coming back to me.

    You look confused, he said after he’d gone on for a while.

    I’m just overwhelmed, I said. I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply. My head felt as if it were about to explode with all the new information. And all of this happened over the past few weeks?

    Yeah. Crazy, huh?

    Dude, we were having one heck of a summer, I said, and he burst into laughter.

    We were. We still are, he said.

    "And the girl, Lara—she’s my… girlfriend?" I opened my eyes and looked at him.

    "Yeah. We both have girlfriends."

    He grinned at me, and I grinned back. That much I remembered, how we often resorted to our twelve year old selves when we were together. Finally, a familiar feeling. The familiarity felt good.

    Listen, I don’t want Lara to know I don’t recognize her, at least not yet. Tell me a few things so I can fake it with her ‘til my memory comes back.

    I don’t know much about your relationship with Lara. It was a big secret until recently. When you danced together at school last night, I could tell you two were very much in love.

    We were at a school dance?

    Alan eyed me thoughtfully. That part can wait. Let’s just focus on the fact that you have a girlfriend. He grinned again, and I grinned back.

    Me in love with a beautiful girl. Who’da thunk it?

    Proof that even dipsticks can find love, said Alan.

    We both got a kick out of that one.

    Lara returned carrying a large tray laden with bread, fruit and juices. As soon as she walked in I could tell there was something wrong. There were tears in her eyes.

    "Joshua, you don’t know me?" The words came out tortured.

    I shot Alan a quick glance. Busted.

    He got up from the lounge and moved away. It felt like a scene in one of those old movies where the traitor gives his friend up to the bad guys, and then runs out of the line of fire.

    It’s not that I don’t know you. It’s just that… I was searching for words that wouldn’t come. I couldn’t lie to her. I’m sorry, I said, my voice dropping several octaves. I don’t know you. I wish I did. You seem… nice.

    Nice!?

    Bad choice of words.

    The compliment I’d thrown in had had the opposite effect of what I was hoping.

    It’s… temporary, Alan said, coming to my rescue.

    How do you know? she asked. Her voice had deepened, as if her words had been dredged up from a dark place within.

    It’s just the shock of having gone through so much. You’ll see. He’ll be back to his old self in no time. Right, Josh? Alan said, offering words of reassurance.

    Alan’s right. I can feel things coming back already. This lie rolled easily off my tongue. I may not have known her, but I had been in love with her, and she with me. I couldn’t bear seeing the pain on her face, pain I’d put there.

    Maybe she still wins, Lara said under her breath. This, too, had come from a dark place. I had no idea what she was talking about.

    Just then, a creature entered.

    Whoa! I cried out, hopping up off the lounge, ready to run for my life.

    Chapter Two

    The creature’s name was Rive. I didn’t know it at the time. One thing was clear, though, the only person uncomfortable with his presence in the room was me. He was a handsome, friendly satyr. He was big, over six feet tall, and appeared to be half man half bull. His upper torso was bare, and he was ripped with muscles.

    Ah, there you are, Josh, he said upon entering. The Countess wishes to have an audience with you.

    So now I’m friendly with mythical creatures.

    I shot a helpless glance in Lara’s direction. The way Alan had explained it, The Countess, Eudora, was Lara’s mother, and the leader of her people. That was all I knew about her thus far. I didn’t feel I knew enough to fake it with her.

    He’s been up all night worrying about me and his friend. He needs to rest, Lara barked.

    I’m sorry, Lara. She insisted. It has something to do with the change.

    I shot Lara another glance. She looked back guiltily. All right, then. Give me a minute with him. I will send him right down.

    Thank you, said the satyr. He shot me a kind smile. I’m glad to see your friend came out of the baths okay.

    Now, that is a freaky thing to say to a fella.

    "Yeah. Me,

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