The Vampire's Dinner

By TJ Nichols

For vampire Charles Redfort, Christmas is a bitter reminder of the day he was killed by a werewolf. After fleeing the vampire army he was created to serve in, he has lived in exile in England. Once a year he allows himself to tell the truth about his life over dinner. Then he eats the man he's hired for the night.

Blake Wells is an engineering student by day and escort by night. He works Christmas because he doesn't want to see his father, and his mother doesn't want to see him. When he meets Charles, he thinks he's gotten a bonus present that he can't wait to unwrap. But as the truth is revealed, Blake will have to think fast to live until morning and convince Charles to give up his lonely life.

 

For readers who like their Christmas stories with a bit of bite.

• Language: English
• Publisher: TJ Nichols
• Release date: Nov 20, 2019
• ISBN: 9798215788240

Book preview

The Vampire’s Dinner

The Vampire’s Dinner

A Gay Christmas Novella

TJ Nichols

Copyright © 2016 by TJ Nichols

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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Contents

Foreword

The Vampire’s Dinner

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Excerpt

Afterword

Other books by TJ Nichols

About the Author

Foreword

Thank you for buying The Vampire’s Dinner.

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The Vampire’s Dinner

For vampire Charles Redfort, Christmas is a bitter reminder of the day he was killed by a werewolf. After fleeing the vampire army he was created to serve in, he has lived in exile in England. Once a year he allows himself to tell the truth about his life over dinner. Then he eats the man he’s hired for the night.

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Blake Wells is an engineering student by day and escort by night. He works Christmas because he doesn’t want to see his father, and his mother doesn’t want to see him. When he meets Charles, he thinks he’s gotten a bonus present that he can’t wait to unwrap. But as the truth is revealed, Blake will have to think fast to live until morning and convince Charles to give up his lonely life.

Chapter 1

Snow was falling and settling on the footpath that ran through the center of the park. He wanted to be able to appreciate the swirling flakes before they melted away, but he couldn’t. The beauty was transient and would be ugly brown slush tomorrow.

Lights of every color had been strung from the trees. The tree in the center was lit up so bright he wondered if it would catch fire. He half hoped it would just so he could see the humans watching the carolers scurry.

His cane tapped on the ground as he walked, his leg stiff from the old injury. He could’ve skirted the park, but it would have taken him longer. However, as the voices of the choir carried toward him, he wished he had. Their overly saccharine songs and Christmas cheer made his fangs ache—although that could be hunger.

A snowball hit the back of his leg, and he stumbled, caught himself on his cane, and put too much weight on his bad leg. He turned, ready to growl. The kid who’d thrown the snowball smirked even as his mother apologized.

There were too many people around, and they were all here having a good time. He curled his lips in something that approximated a smile and kept walking. Christmas. He hated the cheer and the goodwill. Mostly he hated being reminded of the day he died.

The gleaming lights of the hotel greeted him from the other side of the park, and he quickened his pace. He checked his watch. He had half an hour until his evening plans would begin. If everything else went smoothly, that was plenty of time, but today had been full of delays.

Heat hit him as he walked through the hotel door. He didn’t spare a nod for the man standing there bundled up against the damp London cold.

The hotel concierge greeted him with a perky attitude that bordered on obsequious. Mr. Redfort, we are so glad to have you back this Christmas. Your suite has been prepared. Will you be having your usual meal?

Yes. He hadn’t been able to eat in over four hundred years, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to sample roast duck and Christmas pudding with brandy sauce. That would be delightful, Peter.

He’d made the effort to read the man’s name tag. People liked that kind of thing, and he had learned if one was very polite to the staff and left a large tip, one could literally get away with murder.

On Christmas that was exactly what he did.

It was his present to himself. One night when he could be himself.

He had no luggage and Peter didn’t press. Sometimes he planned on staying around to enjoy the city. Not this year, though, as he was finding little to his taste. Tomorrow he’d get on the train and go home and make plans for how he was going to spend the next twelve months.

Each year it became harder to find something worth doing.

Perhaps it would be easier to turn himself in to his brethren. They would haul him back to what was now Germany and stake him out to wait for the sun. That was the punishment deserters got. It was what he deserved. But death was so final, supposed