Gold - My Love Forever

Philip Beecham is told that his best friend and secret love Stephen Withers died during a holiday in Munich. But one night, when Philip is wandering alone in a nearby wood, he sees his beloved friend. At first Philip believes Stephen is a ghost, but then learns something much more horrifying: Stephen has been turned into a vampire and needs Philips help to become human again. To get back the man he loves, Philip must make his way through this unknown world of bloodlust and undeath and confront the vampire who stole his friends life. Be Warned: m/m sex. Evernight Publishing www.evernightpublishing.comCopyright 2012 Elizabella Gold ISBN: 978-1-77130-107-7 Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs Editor: Marie Medina ALL RIGHTS RESERVED WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Many thanks to my husband, who remains my primary encourager, champion, and love. MY LOVE FOREVERElizabella GoldCopyright 2012 The fourth of January in the year 1838 dawned cold and hard.

Stephen would not turn twenty-five years of age. Stephen would not marry Caroline. Stephen would not father children that Philip could hold in his arms and teach parlour tricks to. Stephen would not become one of the greatest politicians of England. Stephen would no more come to kiss Philip on the brow, the cheeks Philip wandered alone through Holladay Wood, as he had done every night since he had learned of his dear friends death. The wintry, bitter air swept over his face and chilled him, but the cold felt appropriate, and suited his mood well.

As he wandered deeper into the thick of the woods, he tried as always, and failed, to forget the many times he had walked through the thicket of trees with his dearest friend, and they had linked arms, and laughed and sang. Oh, Philip! You are such a wonder tobehold when you dance about like a charmingfool. Ever since Stephen had told him he would journey to Munich with his family, Philip had felt a cold fist of steel jam into his gut, and the clenched fingers had remained there ever since. Dear Mr. Beecham, I am so bereft, I canhardly write a word. My beloved son, Stephen,has died. Caroline, Philips orphaned cousin who had been informally adopted into the family, had fainted on learning the news. Philip shuddered when he thought of Munich every day of his life.

He could not but imagine the most foul, vile monsters crept round there, seeking to steal the pure loved ones from arms eager to embrace and lips desperate to kiss. Leaving me bereft and crushed, he said aloud. So sweetly, so gently, he had been told, Stephen had slipped away from the world, with no pain. He had confessed to becoming unconscious earlier while out for a walk, and had rested at a hotel, where he had then left the earth forever. Doctors reasoned he must have died of natural causes, though admittedly young. The brook remained frozen, and so he could not listen to the gentle stream trickling along the rocks and smoothing through the mud.

He stood, watching his breath puffing in the air, and wished the white smoke of his lungs were made of spirit, which could reach out to the soul of his friend, wherever he might be. Four months had passed since he had shook so hard hed nearly knocked over his wineglass, and nearly fainted like his delicate cousin. Stumbled upstairs to tell her, dear cousin, more like a sister, Caroline, my darling girl, yourbeloved is gone. And so is mine, he had not added. My love is gone. Turn himfrom your mind, and copulate with as manywomen as you can, and you shall feel renewed asa man, one had urged. Turn himfrom your mind, and copulate with as manywomen as you can, and you shall feel renewed asa man, one had urged.

His frozen heart had melted a little when he had read the words of one well-meaning fellow who had urged him to remember he had other friends besides Stephen, who all loved him and wanted to help him. And yet, he had to continue the game, with the intricate moves which could crush one or uplift one, with all of his pawns but no queen to strengthen him and save him from destruction. His notions were selfish, childish, but he wanted the man whom he could no longer see or speak to or touch. He needed soothing from the very man who had devastated him. A twig snapped and he started. He whipped his head around, catching all the circle of where he stood, but saw no one in the vicinity.

Is someone here? he called, glad for the deep resonance of his voice. No response. He sighed. The noise probably came from a poor wretched squirrel that hadnt hid itself away for the season yet. He scuffed at the snow with his boots and headed back home, wrapping his coat tighter around his form. Will you not come to his funeral, my dearman? I am puzzled to read your letter, which saysyou will not. And he had not gone.

On a bleak September day, Stephens funeral in London had taken place without his greatest friend there to pay him his respects. Philip wondered if Stephen spent his time in the afterlife watching Philip, and so he prayed every night for Stephens forgiveness for such a cowardly act. Or lack of action. He received nothing but silence when he made his entrance into the house. Caroline of course would be shut up in her room. The other girls would be working on their needlepoint or reading, or perhaps early to bed.

His brothers, well, who knew what they might have gotten up to. He went in and bothered the cook for a few leftover items from the evening meal, which he ate in moments, and then met his brother Edward in the hall before he went upstairs. Out in Holladay Wood again, I suppose? Edward said. His face stayed drawn, as ever. Yes, Philip said shortly. Im not the only one who goes there for peace, it seems.

Oh? Edward raised an eyebrow, seemingly the most enthusiasm he could muster. Who else did you see? I dont know. Philip made to puff from his pipe, then remembered he had not lit one yet. He did so and sighed. I heard a noise. I think I disturbed the person or thing lingering there.

I did not see him. Hmm. Well, your pipe smoke wont save you if there is a snowstorm while you are out there, Philip, Edward said. I should leave off were I you, until the weather becomes a bit milder, perhaps. Thats our Edward. Always thinking of the best outcomes of any given situation.

I thank you, but I shall continue to wander there at my leisure. The choice remains yours, dear brother. Edward yawned. I shall be off to bed now, I think. Good night. Philip puffed on his pipe.

Good night. Edward wandered off. A moment later, Philip went up the stairs to his bedroom. His eyes carefully avoided the other bed where Stephen had slept so many times. But Philip could not escape his own bed.