gazed at me that way.
"What?" I whispered.
"We are about to have company."
"We are? Who?" I heard a gentle knock at the door.
"You may enter," Jean-Claude said, getting to his feet.
"Wait ... you don't know who it is," I hissed, jumping to my feet.
"I know."
The door swung open, and I gasped at the sight of the two men who stood, side by side, in the doorway.
One was tall, with eyes as green as emeralds and dark curly hair framing a face that would leave most male Hollywood stars grinding their teeth in envy. The other, about a head shorter, blond, sweet-faced and smiley. No, they weren't wearing red lined capes or anything like that, in fact, 103
My Vampire Lover
by J. P. Bowie
they were casually dressed in jeans and tee shirts, but I knew immediately what they were.
"Marcus," Jean-Claude said, embracing his friend. "And Roger ... we have not met, but I feel I know you already." He turned to me. "This is Ron. My lover."
I stood staring at them like a dummy for a long moment, suddenly terribly aware that I was the only mortal in the room—alone with three vampires. Three very attractive and friendly vampires, of course—but just for a moment, I felt a tad insecure.
Roger stepped towards me, a big smile on his cute face.
"Don't be nervous. We won't bite!"
I laughed, feeling foolish, and grasped the hand he offered. "Sorry, this will take a little getting used to."
"I know what you mean," he said. "I'm a newbie, too."
"You're not a vampire?"
"Yes ... but still growing. This big guy here..." He took Marcus's hand, and smiled up at him. "He's being Mr.
Patience, while I make a mess of things."
I gazed at Marcus, feeling a sense of awe overtake me. As I took the hand he offered me, I remembered what Jean-Claude had said—"He is legendary among us"—and in his eyes, I thought I could see the centuries of knowledge and wisdom he had attained. How incredible, I thought, to be loved by someone like him who had lived a hundred lifetimes .
What was it, I wondered, that made these exotic creatures choose to love mortals like Roger—now an ex-mortal—and myself. His smile deepened and his grip on my hand tightened just a fraction as he read my thoughts.
104
My Vampire Lover
by J. P. Bowie
"Jean-Claude," he said, and his deep, melodious voice had a sexy huskiness that I could imagine had thrilled many men and women over the years. "Your lover has many questions for you—some that only you can answer." He drew Roger to his side and kissed the top of his head. "But, speaking for myself," he continued, "I love the mortal art of questioning almost everything that comes to their attention. When Roger and I first met, most everything I said, was met with a question. Many times, my long and, I'm sure, boring soliloquies, were interrupted by his 'How? Where? When?'"
Roger giggled. "It's true, but one thing you never were, or are, Marcus, is boring. How could I be bored listening to all those great stories, and in case you haven't noticed, my being changed, hasn't stopped my questioning everything."
I put my arm around Jean-Claude's waist and held him close to me. "We haven't even begun to know each other yet," I said. "That's something I'm looking forward to."
And it was, for as I imagined our future together, my vampire lover and I. I envisaged a life where we would sometimes lie together under a moonlit sky, and after we had made love on the cool clean grass, Jean-Claude would tell me of the life he had lived and of the life he foresaw for us. Who could ask for anything more?
[Back to Table of Contents]
My Vampire Lover
by J. P. Bowie
About the Author
J.P. Bowie was born in Scotland and toured British theatres in numerous musical shows including Stephen Sondheim's Company.
Emigrated to the States and worked in Las Vegas, Nevada for the magicians Siegfried and Roy as their Head of Wardrobe at the Mirage Hotel. Currently living in Henderson, Nevada.
Email: [email protected]
J.P. loves to hear from readers. You
"What?" I whispered.
"We are about to have company."
"We are? Who?" I heard a gentle knock at the door.
"You may enter," Jean-Claude said, getting to his feet.
"Wait ... you don't know who it is," I hissed, jumping to my feet.
"I know."
The door swung open, and I gasped at the sight of the two men who stood, side by side, in the doorway.
One was tall, with eyes as green as emeralds and dark curly hair framing a face that would leave most male Hollywood stars grinding their teeth in envy. The other, about a head shorter, blond, sweet-faced and smiley. No, they weren't wearing red lined capes or anything like that, in fact, 103
My Vampire Lover
by J. P. Bowie
they were casually dressed in jeans and tee shirts, but I knew immediately what they were.
"Marcus," Jean-Claude said, embracing his friend. "And Roger ... we have not met, but I feel I know you already." He turned to me. "This is Ron. My lover."
I stood staring at them like a dummy for a long moment, suddenly terribly aware that I was the only mortal in the room—alone with three vampires. Three very attractive and friendly vampires, of course—but just for a moment, I felt a tad insecure.
Roger stepped towards me, a big smile on his cute face.
"Don't be nervous. We won't bite!"
I laughed, feeling foolish, and grasped the hand he offered. "Sorry, this will take a little getting used to."
"I know what you mean," he said. "I'm a newbie, too."
"You're not a vampire?"
"Yes ... but still growing. This big guy here..." He took Marcus's hand, and smiled up at him. "He's being Mr.
Patience, while I make a mess of things."
I gazed at Marcus, feeling a sense of awe overtake me. As I took the hand he offered me, I remembered what Jean-Claude had said—"He is legendary among us"—and in his eyes, I thought I could see the centuries of knowledge and wisdom he had attained. How incredible, I thought, to be loved by someone like him who had lived a hundred lifetimes .
What was it, I wondered, that made these exotic creatures choose to love mortals like Roger—now an ex-mortal—and myself. His smile deepened and his grip on my hand tightened just a fraction as he read my thoughts.
104
My Vampire Lover
by J. P. Bowie
"Jean-Claude," he said, and his deep, melodious voice had a sexy huskiness that I could imagine had thrilled many men and women over the years. "Your lover has many questions for you—some that only you can answer." He drew Roger to his side and kissed the top of his head. "But, speaking for myself," he continued, "I love the mortal art of questioning almost everything that comes to their attention. When Roger and I first met, most everything I said, was met with a question. Many times, my long and, I'm sure, boring soliloquies, were interrupted by his 'How? Where? When?'"
Roger giggled. "It's true, but one thing you never were, or are, Marcus, is boring. How could I be bored listening to all those great stories, and in case you haven't noticed, my being changed, hasn't stopped my questioning everything."
I put my arm around Jean-Claude's waist and held him close to me. "We haven't even begun to know each other yet," I said. "That's something I'm looking forward to."
And it was, for as I imagined our future together, my vampire lover and I. I envisaged a life where we would sometimes lie together under a moonlit sky, and after we had made love on the cool clean grass, Jean-Claude would tell me of the life he had lived and of the life he foresaw for us. Who could ask for anything more?
[Back to Table of Contents]
My Vampire Lover
by J. P. Bowie
About the Author
J.P. Bowie was born in Scotland and toured British theatres in numerous musical shows including Stephen Sondheim's Company.
Emigrated to the States and worked in Las Vegas, Nevada for the magicians Siegfried and Roy as their Head of Wardrobe at the Mirage Hotel. Currently living in Henderson, Nevada.
Email: [email protected]
J.P. loves to hear from readers. You
Similar Books
