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Authors: J. P. Bowie

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Bound in Blood

BOOK: Bound in Blood
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A Total-E-Bound Publication


Bound In Blood

ISBN #978-0-85715-000-4

©Copyright J.P. Bowie 2009

Cover Art by Lyn Taylor ©Copyright December 2009

Edited by Michele Paulin

Total-E-Bound 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, Total-E-Bound Publishing.


Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound 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 2009 by Total-E-Bound Publishing 1 The Corner, Faldingworth Road, Spridlington, Market Rasen, Lincolnshire, LN8 2DE, UK.


This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated


My Vampire and I




J. P. Bowie


For everyone who loves a sexy vampire story, for Michele who works so hard at making my stories better, for Carol Lynne who gives me endless support – and for Phil, who puts up with me and my flights of foolish fancy.


Trademarks Acknowledgement


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


Magic Mountain: Disney Enterprises, Inc.

Looney Tunes: Time Warner Entertainment Company LP

Red Hat Society: Red Hat Society Inc.

Van Helsing: Universal City Studios LLP

Oprah: Harpo, Inc.

Camaro: General Motors Corporation

7-11: 7-Eleven, Inc.

Buffy: 20th Century Fox Television

Styrofoam: Dow Chemical Company

Jack Daniel’s: Jack Daniel’s Properties Inc.

Oldsmobile: General Motors Corporation



J. P. Bowie



Madrid, Spain: 1635


With considerable interest and excitement, Count Enrique Galvez watched the young man who had just entered the Grand Salon of the Palazzo de Granada. Tall, wide shouldered, with a mane of dark, almost black hair, and dressed fashionably in a coat of dark-green silk, the man exuded confidence and finesse. He would have been a stand-out in any social gathering, but here, amongst Madrid’s nobility and jaded elite, he was magnificent.

Galvez was quick to make himself known. As soon as the man had been announced as Señor Carlos Galeano and greeted by his host and hostess, Galvez hurried across the room to where he stood making polite conversation.

“Your servant, Señor Galeano.” The count bowed slightly. “I am Count Galvez, and I bid you welcome.”


Carlos stared at the handsome count appraisingly. He had heard of him, and what he had heard were reasons not to seek him out as a friend. Still, garbed in a fine suit of blood-red silk, his dark-blue eyes alive with humour and mischief, Galvez seemed a suitable choice with whom to spend a few minutes of amiable conversation.

“I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Count.” Carlos returned Galvez’s smile and bow. “Now, perhaps you can show me where I can quench my thirst.”

“Indeed I can.”

Galvez tucked his hand under Carlos’ elbow and steered him across the crowded salon to where servants poured wine into large crystal goblets. Carlos could not help but notice the admiring stares he received from both men and women as they passed, nor the sometimes wary looks those same people cast upon his companion. Galvez picked up a goblet from one of the trays and handed it to Carlos with a quizzical lift of his left eyebrow.

“Red. Is it to your liking?”

“It is.
, Count.”


J. P. Bowie



.” Galvez picked up another glass and, with a sultry smile, raised it. “To your health.” His gaze locked on Carlos’ golden-brown eyes. “And please call me Enrique. These endless formalities seem redundant nowadays.”

The men sipped their wine then Carlos looked around the salon for a familiar face. “Ah, there she is,” he said, relieved to see his cousin, the Lady Andorra, chatting with a group of dignitaries on the other side of the room.

Galvez frowned. “You know the Lady Andorra?”

“She is my cousin.”

“Ah.” Galvez looked at Carlos from under his lashes. “She shares your beauty—a pity she does not also share your charm.”

Carlos stiffened with shock at the man’s rudeness, but before he could utter the angry retort that sprang to his lips, the count chuckled and touched his arm. “The Lady Andorra does not care for me and makes no bones about it. I see her coming this way, so I shall leave you immediately, although temporarily, and avoid her ire.” He turned on his heel and disappeared into the noisy throng.

Carlos watched with awe as his cousin glided across the floor towards him. The Lady Andorra was a woman of unsurpassed beauty. Regally tall, she wore a gown of some golden gossamer like material that shimmered and drifted about her body as though it were a part of her. Her pale creamy skin and startlingly large dark eyes under a luxurious fall of black-as-midnight hair made her the envy of every woman in the room and the object of lust for every man. But if these men and women had known Andorra’s otherworldly beauty hid a dark secret, their envy and lust might have turned to sudden fear.

“Carlos, you have been here all of two minutes, and already, you have conversed with that charlatan, Galvez.” Andorra’s eyes held reproof mixed with concern. “The man is not a worthy companion for you.”

“And good evening to you too, my cousin.” Carlos lifted her cool hand to his lips. “May I say you look more beautiful than ever?”

“You may.” Andorra melted under her cousin’s charming smile. She tapped him gently on his chest with her fan. “But please beware of men like Galvez—and the company he keeps. The Comte d’Arcy is a friend of his.”



J. P. Bowie



“A degenerate who, it is rumoured, dabbles in the black arts.”

Carlos shivered with mock fear. “Oh, then by all means I shall avoid their company.

One should be very afraid of those who dabble in what does not exist.”

He grinned, and Andorra tapped him again on the chest—this time harder. “Do not laugh at me, Carlos. Galvez and d’Arcy are reprehensible scoundrels and should be barred from attending these soirées. “

“My dear cousin, if you were to bar every scoundrel from attending, this room would be near to empty.”

Andorra managed light laughter. “You may be right about that, Carlos, but there are scoundrels—and then there are men like Galvez and
. Just be careful, is all I ask.”



If Carlos could only have foreseen the events that followed, events that would plunge himself and Andorra into a nightmare of blood and death, he might have taken her words more seriously. Several nights later, he was invited to dine with Galvez. The invitation he received said it was to be a small and intimate dinner party, and despite his cousin’s disparagement of Galvez, he accepted. As the evening progressed, as far as Carlos was concerned, it turned out to be a very strange affair. Little food was served or eaten, yet copious amounts of wine were served. The Comte d’Arcy was there, Galvez of course, and three other gentlemen whose good looks and graceful movements fascinated Carlos—one in particular, a slender young man with mesmerising, luminous eyes of a colour Carlos could not quite place—sometimes ice blue, other times a silvery grey. He was introduced to Carlos as Sir Aubrey Gallant.

“Sir Aubrey is visiting us from England,” Galvez gushed. “He is on his way to France with the Comte d’Arcy.”

Carlos felt an almost immediate attraction towards Sir Aubrey, finding he could not tear his eyes from the young man’s steady, sensual gaze. None of the other guests seemed to mind when he and Sir Aubrey retired alone to one of the many ante rooms in Galvez’s sumptuous home. As though in a trance, Carlos found himself in Sir Aubrey’s embrace, the smaller man gazing up into Carlos’ eyes, his sensuous lips curled in a lascivious smile. Sir BOUND IN BLOOD

J. P. Bowie



Aubrey’s arms slid around Carlos’ neck and pulled him down for a long, languorous kiss that had his head thrumming and his cock hardening so swiftly he thought for a moment he would ejaculate inside his breeches. Gasping, he tried to release himself from the embrace, but the slender man’s strength was formidable, and Carlos felt his clothes being stripped from his body—but how? Sir Aubrey’s arms were still entwined around Carlos’ neck.

They were now both naked, and Sir Aubrey lowered Carlos to the floor, his hands everywhere at once, stroking, caressing every part of Carlos’ muscular torso, lips teasing and nibbling at his hot, fevered flesh. Sir Aubrey took Carlos’ throbbing erection into his mouth, sucking on it greedily, his lips gliding up and down the hard, thick length, bringing Carlos a sweet torture he could not resist. He came in great, wrenching spasms, his semen flooding the other man’s mouth, his body arching off the floor in a paroxysm of ecstasy.

Smiling with satisfaction, Sir Aubrey sat astride Carlos thighs. For a moment or two, he massaged the bigger man’s heaving chest, his fingers gently teasing Carlos’ nipples then, very slowly, he lowered his head, his lips nuzzling Carlos’ throat.

The pain of the bite made Carlos start with surprise. “What are you doing?” he gasped, pushing against Sir Aubrey with all his might, trying to force the man’s mouth away from his neck. But once again, Sir Aubrey showed incredible strength. He clung to Carlos like a leech, sucking the lifeblood from the wound he had inflicted on Carlos’ neck. Carlos tried to cry out, but no sound came from his lips. His limbs lost all power to move, his eyes, staring up at the painted ceiling above him, blurred and dimmed. He was losing consciousness, and try as he might, he could not stop himself slipping away into the darkness that now surrounded him.


Sir Aubrey sat up and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. He stared down at the young man who lay unconscious between his pale, sinewy thighs and chuckled softy.

“A delicious brew,” he murmured. He rose and dressed quickly, leaving Carlos alone in the room, naked and defenceless. Sir Aubrey smiled at the two young men waiting outside the door. “He is yours now. I left enough for you both to enjoy.”

BOOK: Bound in Blood
8.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

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