The Conjurer

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A friend jailed for murder in Scotland.A melancholy lover targeted by a vicious vampire in Canada.Heartbroken. Betrayed. Deceived.Can The Conjurer save his friends or will he die trying?

A vintage bottle of red wine was proffered by an alluring young man in a tuxedo, and a smoking hookah by another. As the wine and hashish found their mark in Michael's brain, he sank into the opulence and gazed at Christophe.

"Le Chateau de Vampire. You're playing with me, my charming boy. There are no vampires here. They do not exist."

Christophe's eyes were so dark brown, there was no difference between iris and pupil save a faint circle of flecked gold. With a soft smile, he winked. "Do you like my play, cheri?"

"It's unorthodox and extravagant. Of course, I do."

"Such a scene would enhance Club Pegasus, no? A private room for artful play?"

"Perhaps. It's rather like an elite gay club for only the young and beautiful. Very Dorian Gray.