Love, Lies & Immortal Ties: Love, Lies & Ties, #1

By C.J. Laurence

I moved to Whitby expecting my days to be filled with grief and heartache while I watched my father die. But turns out the town has much more to offer a teenage girl like me.

His name is Marcus Davenport. Rich. Powerful. Admired by the locals. Not. Human.

If I were smart, I would have run the other way when I realized what he was. But there's this undeniable pull between us, a heartbeat that brings us both to life whenever we're together.

I convinced myself it was fate drawing lines in the sand, the beginning of a love story that would end with forever. But I was wrong.

Turns out the blood running through my veins is tied to Marcus in a way that corrupts everything we feel for each other. It's no longer something I can trust.

Nothing is as it seems. The paranormal residents of Whitby altered my reality forever, and now I'm caught in a web of dark secrets and deadly deceits.

The future is more uncertain than it has ever been, and I have no idea what's going to happen between Marcus and me.

Oh, and then there's Luke, another one of this town's little secrets…and one huge complication.

If you love paranormal creatures, twists and turns, and sizzling passion, this is the book for you.

Get it now.

• Language: English
• Publisher: C.J. Laurence
• Release date: Apr 21, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201516109

C.J. Laurence

I'd love to say that writing has always been in my blood and I owe my strange imagination to a relative I barely knew, but as far as I know, I'm a one of a kind from my family (in more ways than one!!). So what do I love to write about? Well, whatever takes my fancy to be quite honest. I'm not one to write for the market - I write for myself, what comes from the voices, sorry - muses, in my head, and what I think are unique twists in this repetitive world. As a result, you can find me scattered across genres from steamy romance to dark fantasy and horror. My only hesitance at the moment is sci-fi but I'm sure I'll tackle it some day! Conspiracy theories, the supernatural, and the darker side of human nature fascinate me. I adore mythology and ancient history too, and also (only when I'm feeling intellectual) tend to dip my toes into quantum physics to better understand theories of the supposed impossible (like parallel worlds and time travel). I am a thirty-something mother to an eleven year old boy, 3 cats and 4 snakes. I am a petrol-head, a lover of languages, and have a deep passion for horses. Naturally, horses and nice cars often pop up in my stories!

Book preview

Chapter One

I’d never really paid much attention to the opposite sex. Well, that’s a lie actually. I dated my childhood crush in secondary school for over a year but that all went disastrously wrong at prom. Ever since then, boys did not exist to me.

Until I moved back to the quaint seaside town of Whitby, in Yorkshire, my home, my birthplace. I moved back there to be with my dad, who had just been diagnosed with terminal cancer. Him and my mum split when I was six and my school holidays had been filled with trekking up here from the depths of Dorset to visit him for a whole thirteen weeks of the year.

Having just turned eighteen, now free of school, independence ran strong through my veins. The official status of being an adult, in the eyes of the law at least, provided a welcome relief to help break the chains my mum loved to bound me with.

She loved me, I knew that, and she wanted to keep me safe, but there comes a point when it’s time for the baby to fly the nest. Being devastated by my dad’s tragic news gave me the perfect excuse to cut the apron strings and be with him whilst I could.

After a tearful evening, and an early morning goodbye, I’d driven up to Whitby in just under six hours. Not bad going for a three-hundred-and-fifty-mile trip on congested English roads. Seeing dawn break over the picturesque town was exquisite, the shades of pinks and reds in the morning sky absolutely breath-taking. With acres of rugged wild fields splaying out to my left and right as I headed towards the coast, I sucked in a deep breath of fresh air and felt a sense of vigour spread through my veins. 

I couldn’t help but think, as the purple topped lavender fields passed me by, that it would be the perfect place to hide a body out here. No one would ever find it. I smirked to myself as my love of all things dark, grisly, and murderous took control of my mind once more. My mum had been concerned at one point about my interest in such subjects, but she’d gradually come to accept it as a healthy intrigue as oppose to the screaming signs of a serial killer in waiting.

Dad owned his own hotel right on the seafront, and I was looking forward to getting stuck in and helping him run his business. I dreaded to think what would happen to his beautiful house once he...my eyes watered. I couldn’t even face the fact that one day, soon, he wouldn’t be here.

As I pulled into one of the limited car parking spaces behind Dad’s house, I dabbed at my eyes, blinking the water away furiously. I thought I’d shed all the tears I could manage last night when my mum insisted on a girly night in with Chinese food, chick flicks, and all manner of sweets. Oh, and three bottles of wine, which by the way, I only managed to drink two glasses of. Needless to say, Mum looked damn awful this morning as she dragged herself from her bed to hug and kiss me goodbye.

Shaking away all sad thoughts, I sucked in a deep breath and told myself to be optimistic and happy. That's all that Dad needed right now, no doom and gloom and waves of tears. I grabbed my humongous suitcases from my boot and looked up at the back of Dad’s creamy coloured hotel. It looked like a fresh lick of paint had been done not too long ago. Compared to the dreary looking buildings either side, it stood out like a diamond amongst onyx.

The back door to the kitchen had been left open, which meant Sophie would be cooking and most probably rather hot, bless her. Sophie had lived in Whitby all her life. Her husband had left her many years ago for a pilates instructor and her two boys had both been tragically killed in the line of duty over in Afghanistan. At a loose end, she’d applied to be the cook at Dad’s B&B just to give herself something to do. That had been nearly fifteen years ago, and she now also cooked in the evenings too for those guests who requested evening meals.

Joanna was the only other person who worked here. A single mum of two-year-old twin girls, she often brought them to work with her when she couldn’t get childcare or, as I suspected, couldn’t afford it. Long blonde hair, big brown eyes, and a size zero, I'd told her many times to get herself into modelling, but she was too shy and lacked the confidence to pursue such a career.

I walked through the back door and into the utility room. It had been a dining room at some point, making a lovely open kitchen/diner but when Dad bought the house, he moved the dining room to the living room to fit in all the guests.

As soon as I walked in, it somehow felt smaller, like the room had shrunk. It had always housed the washing machine, tumble dryer, and the dishwasher, but for some reason, it now felt cosier than normal. To my surprise, some changes had been made. The walls had a fresh lick of paint, magnolia of course, but several shelves were dotted around, and a black marble effect worktop had been installed over the top of the machines. Perhaps the new additions made it feel more closed in than normal.

To the left sat the kitchen. As I glanced through, I rocked back on my heels. The entire kitchen had been revamped. The grimy cream tiles and falling apart white cupboards had been ditched for oak and black marble effect worktops. A built-in microwave, built-in oven, shiny new extractor hood, Dad really had gone the extra mile to update the kitchen into something modern. I bet Sophie loved it.

Hey, Sophie said, giving me a wide smile as she walked back into the kitchen from the lounge. So good to see you. How have you been?

I’m good, how are you? I said, reaching out for a hug.

Wrapping her arms around me, Sophie sighed. I’m ok. Not so sure about your dad though.

I stepped back and waved my arm at the kitchen. I presume this has all happened since his...diagnosis?

A sad look washed through Sophie’s green eyes. Along with her chocolate coloured hair framing her face, she often reminded me of Bambi. It’s like he’s got no control anymore. He’s just spending money for the sake of it.

I winced. But this is a good cause. The kitchen was pretty awful.

She shrugged her shoulders. I know but he’s just not...

Not what?

We both startled at the sound of Dad’s voice.

Dad, I said, rushing towards him for a hug. What has been going on? What’s all this?

Nice to see you, too, he said, giving me a sly smile. He slipped his arms around me and squished me in one of his normal bear hugs. Good to see you, pumpkin.

I kissed his cheek and replied, Even better to see you, Daddy.

He laughed and let me go. It wasn’t often I called him that, it was more a pet name when I felt cute. The place needed updating, he said, gesturing to the kitchen. No time like the present. My handyman found me all this for a bargain of a price and he fitted it too.

Your handyman?

Dad nodded. Yes, I hired him a few months ago. He's done wonders so far. You'll meet him soon enough. Now, let’s get you all settled in.

The house had four storeys, five if you included the basement level rooms which were for staff. Joanna and Sophie both had their own places and had refused to move in. I could understand that. The small windows that provided the only source of daylight made the rooms feel dark and dingy, not ideal for young children or your general sense of happiness.

This way, Dad said, grinning. Come hither.

Dad led the way, confusing me yet again. The way to the basement had always been through a door in the corner of the kitchen. That had now been de-handled and painted magnolia to match the rest of the kitchen walls.

He led me back outside, making me seriously frown. Where the back door sat to the very left of the building, I could see nothing but the rest of the back wall of the house, except for a tap.

Am I living outside like a rabbit now or something?

He laughed. I wanted the outside to look like there was still only one door so ta-dah, he said, grinning. He pressed the tap downwards, as if it were a normal door handle. To my surprise, the wall moved, opening outwards like another door. Very clever, don’t you think?

My brief conversation with Sophie sprung to mind. Something was definitely off with Dad. He had never been this...this erratic or bizarre.

This way, you don’t even have to enter the house. No disturbing the guests, which you know I hate.

Sure, it was very cool. I certainly hadn’t noticed the extra door until he’d opened it. I raised my eyebrows and folded my arms over my chest. What is this, Dad? What’s with the secret squirrel?

He spluttered with laughter. Nothing, sweetpea. I thought you might like the independence this would give you. No curfews, no restrictions on visitors... He gave me a cheeky wink.

My cheeks flamed instantly. Dad! I put my hands to my cheeks and willed a hole in the ground to open up and swallow me. Now.

Oh, come on, pumpkin. We’re all adults. I know you won’t be my innocent little girl forever.

I stepped back and put my hands up in a surrender sign. Seriously, Dad, not having this conversation with you.

He grinned at me. Ok, I promise I'm done. Shall we?

I eyed him with suspicion for a few minutes before following him through the door. I expected some sort of narrow tunnel, visions of The Great Escape ran through my head. Instead, a wide corridor, brightly lit with powerful white lights overhead and a gorgeous light grey tile floor greeted me.

Is this why the utility room felt smaller?

Dad nodded and grinned. Because it is. Took quite a bit of doing, this. He pointed to my left where the stairs from the normal entrance merged with the corridor. I told him to leave those in. Just in case we ever need to use them again.

Then I noticed the floor had a gentle slope to it, barely noticeable, but when the bottom step of the wooden staircase met squarely with the tiled floor, it gave me such a weird feeling of having descended somewhere without even knowing it.

As we walked down, light flooded the once dark space, revealing what appeared to be furniture of some sort. There should have been four bedroom doors along the back wall but they appeared to be gone. Instead, a few feet later, the wall on my left ended, and revealed an open plan mini apartment. I leaned against the right-hand wall to steady myself and gasped.

Dad...what is this?

It’s your new home, pumpkin, he said, tears welling up in his eyes. My handyman did this, all for you.

Kitchen, dining room, a massive king size bed, a huge flat screen TV in the end of the bed, and one door at the very end, which I presumed led to a bathroom, it was an amazing mini world I’d been gifted. Even the windows had changed from separate small ones into one long one that seemed to also be a little larger.

I don’t know what to say, Dad. Thank you doesn’t really cut it.

You don’t need to thank me, sweetpea, I know how much of a huge change this is for you and I wanted to make it as easy as possible for you. New life, new house, well, kind of.

I threw my arms around his neck and allowed a few tears to fall. What an amazing dad I had. I couldn’t help but wonder what other changes would happen to my life as a result of moving up here.

Chapter Two

Ifirst caught sight of him on my second day in Whitby when my dad insisted on doing the rounds of the tourist routes, again.

Dad, come on, I know them all inside out.

For old times sake, Caitlyn, he said, his voice weak and fragile. I don’t know when I won’t be able to do it anymore.

Guilt tugged at my heart as a wave of tears threatened to spring free from my eyes. With Sophie left to hold the fort at the hotel, Dad and I indulged in a full day of tourist activities.

As always, first things first, we headed out for breakfast, to a café my dad had always loved, aptly named The Bridge Café. It served the best full English breakfast I had ever tasted in my life. My mouth watered just at the thought of what awaited me.

A small building, black framed with huge glass windows looking out over the marina, it would be easy to pass it by as a greasy spoon and think no more of it. The owners, Harry and Sue, had both grown up with my dad and were very fond of telling me stories about my younger self whenever they saw me.

Sue greeted us with her usual beaming smile and then enveloped me in a squishy hug. She reminded me of Mrs Doubtfire, right down to the way she dressed and her bubbly personality.  

Caitlyn, look at you, she said, holding me back at arm’s length. Such a proper young lady. It’s great to see you again.

You too, Sue. Say hi to Harry for me.

Her cheerful face darkened. If he survives his fishing trip. Stupid fool has gone out this morning with that young Wilson lad.

Dad smirked. He’ll be fine, Sue. He’s got more years experience on a boat than what you have cooking food.

That doesn’t help him when his shoulder seizes up or the arthritis in his hip makes him all but useless.

I stifled a giggle and took a window seat, admiring the view over the open harbour. A small pedestrian path separated the café from the River Esk and the busy port. Black iron railings lined the edge of the concrete to save people falling into the deep water.

Even with clouds covering the town today, the scenery here was nothing short of amazing. The sight of St Mary’s Church up on the hill on the opposite side of the quay sent shivers down my spine. It was so old yet majestic looking and I knew what lay just behind it—the legendary Whitby Abbey.

The bell above the door tinkled as another customer walked into the café, letting a gust of fresh, salty air blow through the small room. Despite it being July, the English weather meant suffering either blustery cold wind or unbearable heatwaves. As per usual for England, summer usually lasted for all of a week, culminated in a tremendous thunderstorm before the weather turned for autumn.

A flock of seagulls hovered over the river, squawking and swooping down to the docked boats. I sighed in content as Dad chatted with Sue, surveying the prettiness that would now be my life. A midnight blue boat chugged down the murky river, its noisy engine cutting out as it approached to dock. I didn’t know the ins and out of boats, but I knew enough from my time up here that it was a fishing boat.

I watched in amazement as it came to a stop right outside the café. A figure moved inside the cabin. I studied its wooden deck, slick wet with water, and covered in thick nets. That’s when I first saw him—Marcus Davenport.

He emerged from the cabin with his back to me, a head of shiny black hair appeared first, thick and glossy, hanging just above his ears and moving freely with the light breeze outside. Broad shoulders followed next, then a trim waist and long lean legs. He turned around and then I found myself truly stunned.

Startling blue eyes, high cheekbones, plump pink lips, a gentle curving nose, and the palest skin to rival any albino, words couldn’t describe him. My mouth dropped open and if I didn’t know better, I’d swear he saw my reaction as right at that moment, his lips tweaked up into the most delicious, dangerous smile I’d ever seen.

Sauntering across the deck with ease, he almost seemed to glide, as if walking on air. Dressed in faded ripped jeans and a very clingy white t-shirt, I could clearly see his defined pecs as the wind blew his top even tighter against his lithe body. Part of me, the wicked part, wanted him to fall over on the slippery deck, but the other half of me wanted to carry on enjoying the show as this spectacular specimen of the male species showcased himself right in front of my very eyes.

That’s Marcus Davenport, Sue whispered, making me jump as she leaned down to my ear. Quite the sight for sore eyes, isn’t he? Harry couldn’t have chosen to go out with him, could he? Tsk tsk.

Heat rushed to my cheeks. Had I really been staring that much? I tore my gaze from the gorgeous man outside and looked up at Sue.

Is he allowed to dock there?

Sue grinned at me and squeezed my shoulder. Oh, you’ve a lot to learn about this place, girlie. Marcus Davenport can do whatever he likes. He ploughs more money into this town than the council.

I raised my eyebrows and used every last ounce of willpower not to look out of the window again.

Dad finally sat down into the seat opposite me. He took one look at me and said, What’s wrong, honey?

Nothing, why?

You’re all flushed. Are you feeling ok?

With my heart still pounding, I waved a hand dismissively at my dad and lied. I’m fine. Just hungry.

Dad eyed me for several seconds before tending to his cup of coffee. Sue chuckled next to me as she asked us what we wanted to eat. Just as she wandered off into the kitchen with our orders, the fine form of Marcus Davenport walked past my window, close enough to touch.

If only the glass wasn’t in the way...I thought to myself, sighing wistfully.

Then to my shock, he opened the door to the café, strolling in like he owned the place. The little bell above the door rang again, covering me in chills.

I couldn’t help it.

I had to look at him.

As he strode through, he turned and looked at me, our eyes locking for several seconds. He flashed me a cheeky grin and then to my absolute horror, took a seat at the table next to ours.

Brian, he said, nodding to my dad.

Dad looked up from stirring his sugar into his coffee. Marcus! Long time, no see. How have you been, old chap?

Good, thanks. You?

Oh, you know. Skipping from one day to the next.

Marcus’ eyes scanned over my dad’s body and he pulled his lips into a thin line. He cast me a look of sympathy, for the briefest of moments, before resuming small talk with my dad.

I reached for my pot of tea, and as I picked it up, the metal lid clinking against the body grabbed my dad’s attention.

You sure you’re ok, honey? You’re shaking.

I smiled and nodded. Perfectly fine, Dad. Just hungry.

So you keep saying.

Mum ploughed wine into us last night so I need some hangover food.

His eyes widened and a look of alarm passed over his weathered face. Are you saying you drove up here drunk, Caitlyn? I brought you up better than that!

I sighed. No, Dad. I’m not drunk, trust me. Out of three bottles of wine, I managed to savour two glasses.

He laughed. Pinot Grigio?

Merlot.

Ah, yes. How could I forget? He shook his head. Sue will be out soon with the food.

I nodded, trying in vain to calm my bright red cheeks but the more I thought about how they were burning, the hotter they became. I could feel Marcus’ eyes on me, watching me, studying me, roving over me. The more I became aware of it, the more heat rushed to my face. I suddenly realised how animals in a zoo must feel, being stared at all the time by a sea of curious faces, except I had one face with enough scrutiny of a thousand.

Somehow, I managed to pour a cup of tea without spilling a drop. Feeling rather triumphant at my mini victory, I debated if I could also pour milk without spilling it. As I picked up the small white porcelain jug, Dad announced he needed the toilet.

He disappeared through the door at the back of the café that led up two flights of stairs to the gents. A further set of stairs led to the ladies.

Hi there, said Marcus.

I jumped, startled that he had actually addressed me directly. Hi, I breathed, keeping my eyes on the milk jug.

I’m Marcus.

Tipping the jug over my mug of steaming tea, I nodded. Sue said. The milk trickled out slowly, streaming down the underside of the spout and onto the starched white tablecloth. Damn it.

A light laugh sounded from my left-hand side, eliciting goosebumps from me instantly. What was it with this guy affecting me in such a way?

Would you like some help?

Irritation mixed with embarrassment did not make a good combination. I think I can manage to pour some milk, thanks.

Clearly not.

I spun my head around and fixed him a steely glare. Affecting me in unknown ways or not, I wouldn’t stand for cheeky remarks like that from a stranger.

Whoa, easy, he said, lifting his hands in a surrender sign. I was only joking.

I kept my glare pinned on him for a few seconds before turning my attention back to the milk.

So what should I call you? he asked.

My mind whirred with some sort of witty remark, some sarcastic comment to keep him at arm’s length. The stir of emotions inside me unsettled me and I needed to figure out what the hell was going on.

Eventually, I gave in. Caitlyn.

Caitlyn Summers. Nice.

The way he said my name sent a shudder down my spine. He had a silky smooth, deep, masculine voice. Combined with everything else about him, it felt like all of my book boyfriends were suddenly rolled into one real life human being right in front of me.

The door at the back of the café banged shut, signalling Dad’s return to the room. I finally mixed some milk into my tea and then tipped in three heaped teaspoons of sugar.

Dad sat back down and lifted an eyebrow. Still adding tea to your sugar, huh?

I grinned. You’re to blame for my sweet tooth, remember.

He opened his mouth and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, dropping his removable dentures down. That’s the price I paid.

Ewww, Dad, come on. That’s gross. I’ve got to eat yet, and you’ve done that in front of someone too? I frowned and shook my head. Totally disgusting.

Dad and Marcus both laughed.

How’s the fishing been? Dad asked Marcus.

Good. Really good. How’s business at the hotel?

Booming. Never been better.

Taking a day off today?

Dad nodded. We’re doing the tourist rounds today, aren’t we, Cat?

I nodded, lifting my tea to my mouth.

Old tradition for us, Dad continued. Every time Cat visits, we spend the first day going around the town.

Are you here for long?

I froze when I realised he’d directed his question at me. My hair had fallen forwards, obscuring him from my view, thankfully. Indefinitely, I replied.

That sounds a bit more permanent than a visit.

Dad cleared his throat. Caitlyn has moved up from her mother’s house to...help me with the hotel. I’m not too well these days.

I’m sorry to hear that, Brian. I hope it’s nothing too serious?

Tears sprung to my eyes as soon as I allowed the slightest thought of Dad’s cancer to creep into my thoughts. I took a sip of my tea, well aware it would be scalding hot, but I needed a distraction. The boiling liquid blistered the roof of my mouth, scorching my tongue and springing the tears free from my eyes.

I gasped and swore under my breath.

You ok, pumpkin? Dad asked, leaning across the table.

I nodded, wiping at the few stray tears with the back of my hand. It’s still a bit hot.

He passed me a spare cup and tipped some milk into it. Here, drink that quick. It’s nice and cold.

I chucked the milk down my throat like a shot of sambuca. The instant relief it brought was more than welcomed. Thanks, I said, setting the cup back down on the table.

Where’s the first stop then? Marcus asked.

The Abbey of course, Dad replied,