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    Undying Love
    Undying Love
    Undying Love
    Ebook102 pages1 hour

    Undying Love

    By J.M Goodrich

    ()

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    About this ebook

    After losing both of my parents, I was forced to return home to Glenfall Heights. I expected the looks of pity and sympathy. I even expected the never-ending string of visitors and home-cooked meals.

     

    But there was one thing I never expected- Nicolas Blackwood, the dark and mysterious stranger that showed up just at the right time, when I needed someone the most. 

     

    And I certainly hadn't expected him to be a vampire. 

     

    He instantly captured my heart, even though just being around him could put me in danger. My return home was quickly turning into an even bigger adventure that I was ready for. 

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJ.M Goodrich
    Release dateAug 11, 2022
    ISBN9798986579528
    Undying Love
    Author

    J.M Goodrich

    Jeanine Goodrich is a newly self-published author, originally from Sault Ste Marie, MI. She publishes under her pen name, J.M. Goodrich. Jeanine currently resides in Gwinn, MI with her husband, two sons, and their cat. In her spare time she enjoys reading, spending time with her family, listening to The Beatles, and continues to write fantasy and romance novels.

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      Book preview

      Undying Love - J.M Goodrich

      CHAPTER ONE

      Honoria

      Iparked my beat-up old Toyota in my parent’s driveway, turning off the ignition. It was eerie, seeing every light turned off. The house looked cold, empty, devoid of life. Usually, there would be some type of movement going on inside, some sign of life. Now, there was none. Nothing. An empty void where a happy, loving family once dwelled. Staring at their house, my throat grew dry as tears pricked at the back of my eyes.

      I sat here, in the seat of my car, for what seemed like hours. Stepping foot inside that house would make everything seem that much more real. And I wasn’t quite ready to face that reality yet.

      If I went into that house, there would be no mouth-watering scents coming out of the kitchen, where my mother was constantly cooking and baking. If she wasn’t cooking for her family, she would be making something for one town function or another. Or just a little treat for some of the neighbors.

      There would be no sounds coming up from the basement, where my father loved to spend many hours tinkering away, carving wood into beautiful furniture that he would sell, or toys that he would then give away to the local children. They loved his wooden toys. And him.

      I sank lower into the seat of my car, the feeling of guilt creeping in fast and furious, weighing me down. I wish I had been a better daughter. I wish I would have called them more often, visited them all the time, even without an excuse to do so. I shouldn’t have needed an excuse. I wish we had done more things together.

      I wish I would have told them that I loved them. I mean, I did tell them, just not as much as I should. And now I deeply regret it. I should have told them every chance I got.

      Now it was too late.

      The image of their darkened house grew blurry as my eyes filled up with tears. I rested my forehead on my cracked steering wheel and broke down, my body shaking as I sobbed.

      When the tears had run dry, I fished out a couple tissues from my purse, dabbing at my eyes and nose as I dialed Dylan’s number.

      Dylan was my boyfriend. We had been dating off and on for a few months now. It was nothing serious, but still. I needed him at this moment.

      After a few unanswered rings it went to voicemail. Shaking my head in frustration, I sighed and hung up the phone without leaving a message. It would have been pointless, anyway. Dylan never replied when I left any. He rarely answered any texts, either.

      Why was I even with him?

      Tossing the phone back into my purse, I decided to go visit the only person who always had my back, who always listened and was full of helpful advice. Turning the ignition back on, I backed out of the driveway and headed across town.

      Hey, Gram, I told her, resting my hand on the cold top of her headstone. Vivian Prescott, or Grandma Viv as she was known to me and many others, had died a few years ago from natural causes. I missed her dearly. Not a day went by that I didn’t think of or miss her. I think I had always felt closer to her than to anyone else in my family. She had been a huge part of my life. The day she died was the day I truly felt alone. Now, there was a huge hole that had been ripped out of my heart.

      Wiping the dead leaves and dried twigs out of the way, I sat down on the ground, resting my back against the stone. I know it’s been a long time, Gram, but I just don’t know what to do. I wiped away the fresh tears that had formed. I don’t want to believe this is real. I don’t want to be alone, I said, my voice low, barely above a whisper. How could they be taken away from me? How could all of you be taken from me? It’s not fair.

      I hugged my knees close to my chest, resting my chin on them while my mind drifted. I wondered if my parents were reunited with Gram up in Heaven, or wherever it was they ended up. I hoped so. I hoped they were all together and happy.

      What do I do, Gram? How can I carry on? I wish I could hear her answers, feel her warmth as she held me tightly in a hug, doing her best to comfort me. She was the best at that. She was the best at everything. God, I missed her.

      The graveyard suddenly filled up with fog. I was so lost in my memories of Gram that by the time I noticed, it was so thick I could barely see two feet in front of me. My heart began racing inside my chest. Scrambling to my feet, I felt my way around the tombstones, looking to find my way out of there.

      Soft laughter drifted up out of nowhere, making me feel even more nervous than I already was. I stopped, my heart pounding so hard now that I was sure it was going to fly right out of my chest. Straining my ears, I listened for the sound again, hoping it was as innocent as I first imagined. When it came, I closed my eyes in relief.

      It wasn’t the sound of any sort of demon or monster like my mind was telling me it was. Just people laughing, having a good time. Nothing sinister.

      Letting out a long breath, I dropped my hand from the musty old tombstone I had been using to prop myself up on and followed the sound. I couldn’t explain it, but I felt almost as if I was being pulled towards whatever was making the noise. That, and I was genuinely curious about who would willingly be hanging out in a graveyard, just for the fun of it.

      Graveyards aren’t fun. They’re depressing. And disgusting.

      I weaved my way through the fog and around the tombstones until I came upon a faint glowing. Slowly, I crept up near the small crowd that was gathered near a modest bonfire.

      Seriously, what was wrong with people? A full-blown party in the middle of one of the most depressing places ever. There were way better places to hold parties. Ones where dead people weren’t buried right under your feet.

      Crouching behind a large headstone, I watched them, curiosity getting the best of me. I knew I should just turn around and leave, but I couldn’t help it. From my hiding spot, they appeared to be rowdy teenagers, getting drunk and having fun out here, away from the prying eyes of adults. I guess I could understand that. But still.

      But why the fog? As I pondered this, a crow flew dangerously close to my head. At least I think it was a crow. It had the body and shape of a crow, but it was pure white. I had never seen anything like it before. The feathers, talons, even its beak were bright white. I was so startled by it that I fell backwards against the headstone, a small scream escaping from my throat. I quickly covered my mouth with my hand, hoping the people attending the party hadn’t heard me. The last thing

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