My Vampire and I

By J.P. Bowie

When young Roger Folsom attends a costume party thrown by friends for his twenty-fourth birthday he is immediately captivated by Marcus Verano, a handsome stranger masquerading as a vampire—except Marcus is the real thing.

Spirited away to the vampire's mansion, Roger is introduced to a new life of unabashed luxury, fascinating stories—and hot sex. Everything is going just fine for Roger, until his new lover's old enemies show up seeking revenge, and Roger's blood.

Determined to save one another from the gruesome deaths planned for them, they embark on an adventure that takes them from the weirdness of West Hollywood to the wildness of a vampire's castle in the hills of Rome.

This time, can true love really conquer all?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pride Publishing
• Release date: Feb 1, 2008
• ISBN: 9781906590062

J.P. Bowie

J.P. Bowie: I was born and raised in Scotland. Moved to London and worked in several West End shows before immigrating to the United States. First port of call was Las Vegas where I worked backstage with the Siegfried and Roy Show at the Mirage Hotel as Head of Wardrobe for the legendary stars. Another move more recently took me and my husband Phil to San Diego where we intend to stay! Love sunny San Diego.

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My Vampire and I

ISBN # 978-1-90659-006-2

©Copyright J.P. Bowie 2008

Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright November 2017

Edited by Michele Paulin

Pride Publishing

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.

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, Pride Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Pride Publishing. 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 2017 by Pride Publishing, UK

Pride Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.

My Vampire and I

MY VAMPIRE AND I

J.P. Bowie

Book one in the My Vampire and I series

When young Roger Folsom attends a costume party thrown by friends for his twenty-fourth birthday, he is immediately captivated by Marcus Verano, a handsome stranger masquerading as a vampire—except Marcus is the real thing.

Spirited away to the vampire'’ mansion, Roger is introduced to a new life of unabashed luxury, fascinating stories—and hot sex. Everything is going just fine for Roger, until his new lover’s old enemies show up seeking revenge, and Roger’s blood.

Determined to save one another from the gruesome deaths planned for them, they embark on an adventure that takes them from the weirdness of West Hollywood to the wildness of a vampire’s castle in the hills of Rome.

This time, can true love really conquer all?

Dedication

For Carol Lynne, Claire, Michele and all the wonderful authors at TEB.

And for Phil, always.

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Michelin: Michelin North America, Inc.

Armani: GA Modefine S.A. Corporation

Reader’s Digest: The Reader’s Digest Association, Inc.

Superman: DC Comics

Justice League: DC Comics

Mercedes: Daimler Chrysler AG Corporation

iPod: Apple, Inc.

Chapter One

Many years ago…

He lies in the vast, cold mausoleum that has been his resting place for hundreds of years… Marcus Lucius Verano, vampire. Time has neither ravaged his countenance nor his body. His pale, chiseled face is unlined—his black hair shows no sign of grey. He lies as though asleep, a young man in the prime of life—strong, virile, handsome…and deadly.

Deadly, that is, to those who have sought to destroy him, and there have been few who’ve dared. Among those who love and admire him, he is renowned for his powers, his strength, his intelligence, and his beauty.

He has loved completely but once, and that love was taken from him in a heinous fashion—by one he will never forget, nor forgive, no matter how many centuries pass.

In his death-like sleep, he dreams, not of revenge, but of redemption in the arms of one who would love him as no other ever has. He has a vision of such a one…but he must wait, for this one has not yet been born. Still, the face in his vision becomes tantalizingly clear to Marcus in his repose—young, fresh-faced, with golden hair and laughing blue eyes, he moves through the vampire’s netherworld with a confidence born of unsullied youth.

The vampire awakes and rises from his bed of marble. As he strides from the mausoleum into the darkness of the night, the vision haunts him and will continue to do so for many years to come.

But now he hungers for the lifeblood that will sustain him, and so he pushes from his mind all thoughts that would distract him from the hunt. His eyes scan the darkened streets. He waits and is rewarded by the sound of footsteps and a voice tipsily singing an old drinking song.

He smiles and steps out in front of the man who looks up at him without fear. The vampire’s green eyes hold his in a calm and steady spell.

He inclines his head slightly. Good evening…

And to you, sir. Can I be of service?

You can indeed, sir…I need but a little of your blood…

* * * *

West Hollywood

Present day

If there was one aspect of life I liked, better than anything else, it was when five o’clock came on a Friday and I could skip out of Carter’s Colonial Bank and head for Mo’s, my favorite watering hole. There I would meet my friends, Mark and Kevin, and we would knock back a couple of martinis before deciding on where to eat. Except this particular evening that starts my story held something that, even in my wildest and most bizarre imaginings—and that’s saying something—I could never have anticipated. You see, it was the start of a rollercoaster ride that, quite literally, changed my life forever.

I’m a horror movie freak. In my opinion, there’s nothing quite like a good horror story to get me going—I mean, sexually. There’s something about the adrenaline rush that comes from being scared out of your wits—it always makes me hard. Could it be because I was born on October thirty-first—Halloween—and a Scorpio?

Anyway, I’ve seen just about every horror movie ever made—some terrific, some so bad… Actually, I kinda like some of the bad ones too. My favorite vampire was Frank Langella…sexy, even better than Brad Pitt, and a long way from being the monster conjured up by Bram Stoker in the book Dracula. That baby gave me nightmares all through my teens. My favorite werewolf was Michael Landon in I Was a Teenage Werewolf. He was so darned good looking before he grew the whiskers and the black nose… I would drive my mom and dad wild, always wanting to stay up for the late-night horror flicks. I’ve got quite a collection of those old movies and still get a kick out of them.

I’d heard through the grapevine that Mark, knowing my fondness for all things spooky and weird, was planning to throw a ghoul party for my twenty-fourth birthday. Everyone had to come in costume—the more far out and scary the better. Even before he’d officially told me, I had begun planning my own costume. I was going to cheat and not be scary—just fabulous! No dumb Frankenstein’s monster mask for me!

I’d been working out pretty hard at my gym on Santa Monica as of late, so I figured whatever I designed, it should show some skin. I mean, why hide what I’d been working so darned hard on? Oops, sorry…my one-track mind. Anyway, I had decided to be a devil—a golden devil. All I’d wear was a gold lamé bikini. The rest of me would be all me—with some golden touches. Gold boots and gold horns atop the golden hair with which my mother naturally blessed me, would complete the ensemble. Oh, one more thing, a golden trident. I’d decided against a forked tail—that just might get in the way, or someone might stand on it or—well, a lot of things could go wrong with a tail. Right?

When the big evening arrived, and I stood in front of the mirror, having lightly sprayed my body with some gold sparkly stuff, I thought immodestly to myself, Roger, you look great!

I stuffed my driver’s license and some money from my billfold into my boot, and I was ready to go, go, go. My friend Kevin was to pick me up in approximately five minutes—just giving me time for a quick belt to put me in the party mood, so to speak.

I was just about to pour myself a shot when the doorbell rang. Kevin’s early…? I wondered with some disbelief. Kevin was never early, but there he was, wearing a white sheet and nothing else. He flashed me, just so I was sure. Jeez. That was scary! Kevin’s a cutie, with big brown eyes and auburn hair he keeps really short, almost military length.

You look good, he said, leering at me. Kevin had been trying to get into my pants ever since I’d met him, telling me I’d love his big dick. I liked him, I really did, just not in that way. He’d eventually gotten the message but still couldn’t resist the odd innuendo or pass. Like right then, as I turned to lock my apartment door, he pinched me, hard.

Kevin!

Sorry, I couldn’t resist…your butt looks great in that bikini…very tempting.

Hmm… Well, that was a compliment, I guess. Thanks, I said, slipping the key into my boot. Okay, let’s go, so you can frighten all the boys at the party.

* * * *

When we got to Mark’s house, the party was already in full swing. Everyone yelled, Surprise! when I walked in—even though it wasn’t a surprise party—and then oohed and aahed over my costume. I felt special…

I looked around at all the other costumes and preened…just a little, of course. No doubt, I had the best look. Mark, his costume of black feathers molting all over the place, brought me a martini and a big sloppy kiss. Mark and I used to be lovers, but shit happens, y’know. Happily, we’ve remained good friends—best friends, really.

You look great, he said, eyeing my getup. You’re so lucky to have all that hair…

Mark was already getting thin on top, something that didn’t sit well with him at all. Male pattern baldness—the curse every young queen wants to avoid, at all costs. Mark blamed his dad, who was bald as a coot at thirty. I’d tried to explain to him that I’d read somewhere it wasn’t necessarily his dad’s fault, rather his mother’s genes—My mother isn’t bald, he’d snapped at me. Oh, well…

What are you? I asked.

Nevermore, he said, trying to impersonate Peter Lorre, or was it Vincent Price? "You know… The Raven."

Oh. Edgar would have loved it.

Don’t sound so impressed, he grumped. I mean, look at Betty over there, two hundred pounds and she wears a white jumpsuit. I asked her if she’d come as the Michelin Man, and she threatened to lay me out.

I’m not surprised, I said, laughing all the same.

"You haven’t told me I look good." Kevin pouted, pretending to be miffed. Nothing fazed Kevin—nothing.

That’s because you’re wearing an old sheet, Mark said in a deprecating tone.

It’s what’s under the sheet that looks good…

Mark gave out a long, exaggerated sigh. Kevin, go get yourself a drink, so Roger and I can have a halfway intelligent conversation…

Okay, Mother. He flashed Mark then sauntered off.

Well, Mark murmured, watching him go. He was right about it looking good. We giggled together, then he looked at me, a funny light in his eyes. Gotta go…

Strange, isn’t it? One minute you’re surrounded by all your friends, yakking up a storm, then suddenly, as if by magic, everyone drifts off, and you’re left to sip your drink alone and stare vacantly around the room.

Later, I discovered it was a kind of magic. Because, it was then that I saw him, standing outside on the patio, his eyes fixed on me, unwavering, unapologetic. Hot! He looked to be a couple of years older than me. Tall, dark—and gorgeous…

Why’s he out there? I wondered. Oh, maybe he’s a smoker…yuck. No sign of a cigarette though. As if propelled by some unseen force, almost as if someone had given me a good shove, I started walking toward him.

He was dressed in black, as befitted a vampire. It really was a very good costume—not at all cheap. Excellent cut on the tux—and the cape looked like heavy silk, fastened at his throat by a gold chain. The face above the chain was to die for—pale and interesting, I think my grandmother used to say.

Thick, black curly hair framed a face that was a lot more than merely interesting. If I’d said his skin was incandescent, it wouldn’t be enough. If I told you his eyes were like dark green emeralds, I wouldn’t be lying, just not saying enough. As for his mouth—wide, generous, full—it was all of those, yet to say merely that, wasn’t enough either. Even now, I can’t find the words to describe his beauty. His very real, dark beauty.

For what seemed an eternity, we stared at one another, neither of us moving—just staring at one another, still and silent.

Then he smiled, showing perfect white teeth. "Good eeevening," he said, his pearly whites almost glowing in the darkened patio.

Oh, he’s good, I thought—a great Lugosi impersonation.

Hey… I returned his smile with one I hoped was as enticing as his. Why don’t you come on in…join the party?

And, in an instant, he was by my side. I blinked into his green cat-like eyes, dizzied by his presence and intoxicated by the faintly exotic scent he exuded.

How…how did you do that? I stammered.

Do what? he purred, his voice low and husky.

You…you didn’t walk in. You just were here. First you were out there. Then you were standing here, next to me…

Next to you. Where I belong. He raised his glass, one I hadn’t seen until then, and clinked it gently against mine. Happy Birthday, Roger.

I quivered. How do you know my name?

I’m clairvoyant, he replied with a smile that turned my knees to water. Also, not hard of hearing. Your name was shouted by almost everyone in here when you arrived.

Of course. Stupid me.

Not stupid—endearing. His smile hypnotized me. His eyes scanned my body from top to toe, lingering for a moment somewhere in the middle. I like your costume—or should I say, the lack of one?

Thanks…is it a bit too much?

I think it’s just right. He touched my arm, sending tingles over my skin. May I give you a kiss for your birthday?

Huh? A kiss…? I was acting like some dumb, stage-struck queen. I looked up into his eyes. I had to look up—he was a good six two to my more modest, but compact, five ten. Jeez, I’m sorry. You must think I’m some kind of hick.

Was that a yes?

Y…yes.

He leaned forward and took my lips with his own. It was a gentle kiss, at first. Just the meeting of flesh on flesh—nice, soft, full flesh…taking control of all of my senses.

Roger was everything I’d ever dreamed of, everything I’d hoped for, all these long years…long after I had first seen his face in my vision. Now, two centuries later, I could at last hold him in my arms, feel the warmth of his body, the softness of his lips on mine. I can honestly say, it was worth the wait, and I chastise myself for wishing he could have come to me sooner.

But I do wish it. When I saw him, in the flesh for the first time, it was as though I had been transported. Perhaps his beauty cannot truly compare with the young model Michelangelo used for his statue of David, but there is a similarity around the eyes and mouth. The mouth I claimed for my own.

He felt so adorable, unspoiled, untouched by cynicism and artifice—a young man poised on the edge of life, ready for its great adventure. If I have my way, I thought, I would be the one to lead him to his destiny.

His thoughts were in chaos…

Stop… please stop, I screamed in my mind while the make-believe vampire kissed me. Stop, or I’ll make a fool of myself right here in the middle of this room. I’ll toss this glass away—the one I’m practically crushing to pieces in my hand right now. I’ll just throw it away, hold you in my arms, press my body to yours, rip the Armani tux off your hot body and let you fuck me right here in front of all these people. Yes, I will! Yes, I…

He stepped back, his lips forming that perfect smile again.

What happened? I gasped.

I kissed you, he said.

I know…but it felt like so much more…

I’m glad you enjoyed it, Roger. I thought it was rather nice, myself. He glanced down at my glass. Can I get you a refill?

That’d be nice. Wait. I grabbed his arm, the strength in the hard biceps beneath the silk making me shiver with desire. I don’t know your name.

I’m sorry. That was rude of me. He inclined his head slightly. My name is Marcus. He walked away towards the bar, his cape billowing behind him, just like a real vampire’s would.

Wow. I just couldn’t believe my luck. That this gorgeous guy should choose me, out of all the other good-looking guys in the room.