One day, Kazimir is gonna live in a lighthouse, but until he can afford to buy one, he’ll simply have to satisfy his need by breaking into abandoned ones.
For years, Kazimir Wrenley’s dream has remained the same—to live in a lighthouse. He saves every penny he can to make it a reality, but lighthouses aren’t cheap, and they aren’t on the market all that often. Together with his trusty sidekick, Pharos the Border Terrier, he visits all the lighthouses within reasonable—and unreasonable—distance.
Ashby Kalen pissed off the wrong queen, namely the vampire queen, and now he’s chained up and starving in Surging Reef, an abandoned lighthouse. No one gets out of there alive, so when a human saunters in as if he owns the place, Ashby is sure he’s hallucinating.
Vampires don’t exist, Kazimir knows that, but he can’t explain what he’s seeing with any other word. Vampire or not, he’s not leaving a living being chained to a wall. Ashby can’t believe his luck when Kazimir is willing to help him escape, but will they make it out before the queen catches them?
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Paranormal Gay Romance: 18,798 words
Chapter 1
Ashby Kalen clawed at the stone slabs as agony tore through him. The silver had long since burned the flesh around his ankle, leaving the bone exposed.
He couldn’t remove the cuff or break the chain. Which left breaking the bone, and he wasn’t ready yet. Didn’t know if he’d ever be.
His fingertips were bloody, and his healing slow. The sound of the ocean lapping at the stony shore of the island lulled him into a pain-hazed trance.
He hadn’t been conscious when he’d been brought here, but he did not doubt where he was.
Surging Reef.
No one came here simply to visit. No one walked out of here. At least not until they were led out to be euthanized.
Did he deserve to die? Maybe.
Did he deserve to be tortured with silver chains and left to starve? He didn’t think so.
Queen Anne wasn’t what he’d call merciful.
Had he snacked on her favorite pet? Yes, he had. Or he’d tried to. The moment his fangs had pierced the skin, it had been over.
He’d been starving, and the tart little trollop had played him. Was he too full of himself and too stupid to realize it at the time? Sadly, yes. Thinking wasn’t his forte, not when he was hungry. Had he used his brain instead of his dick—or stomach—he was sure he’d have realized how incredulous it was to think Naveen wanted him.
He’d spent weeks in isolation, swearing left and right and up and down he had nothing to do with the group of assassins who’d found the tunnel into Anne’s house.
She lived in the most amazing six-bedroom stone house that had happened to be owned by a rum runner during the Prohibition era. The entrance of the tunnel had long since been blocked, but he might have let it slip it was there. He might also have let it slip when Queen Anne would be elsewhere occupied.
Could she prove it? Nope.
Did she suspect him? Hell yeah.
Would she look bad if she killed him without proof? She would, but as stated before, she wasn’t known for being merciful. The only reason she’d spared him was because she couldn’t afford conflict within the ranks.
He wasn’t loved by all, not by a long shot, but he had enough friends for there to be suspicion and outrage if she had him killed without evidence.
But he’d presented her with a solution. Sometimes it sucked being an idiot.
Hervey Jehan, the king of the Woodland Kingdom, tried to take over the Waterside. Since Anne wasn’t Ashby’s favorite, he hadn’t reported there being Woodland spies in the territory. He had bought them a beer and… eh… It had been a glorious night with plenty of liquor and a few pretty humans to snack on.
In retrospect, maybe he should’ve been more careful. Though he wasn’t here because of the spies, and while the failed assassination hadn’t helped his cause, it wasn’t the reason either.
No, it was Naveen, the fucking little strumpet.
Anne had kept him locked up in her horror basement—with the cool rum-running tunnel—for a couple of weeks, and he’d been starving.
He should’ve known better, of course. Naveen had been there, prowling in front of the cage as soon as Anne was out of the house.
He should’ve known he wasn’t there because of Ashby’s charms. He’d never understood what Naveen did with Anne. It was obvious he wasn’t into women, but Anne loved him, and he guessed some men liked being treated like precious pets.
Who was he to judge?
In his hunger delirium, he’d been sure Naveen had been stalking around because he wanted Ashby. He was a fine specimen when not starving and chained up in a lighthouse, more than one person had told him so. Why wouldn’t Naveen want him? He sure as hell wasn’t getting dick from Anne, and Ashby could give it to him. A bite for a decent shag was a fair deal. A deal he’d made several times in the past with people much less appealing than Naveen. A vampire had to do what a vampire had to do, and being hungry sucked.
He was a little unsure of how everything had happened. Naveen had been there making suggestions, talking dirty, and showing off his harlot qualities in all the best ways. He’d moaned and stroked his throat, pushed himself against the bars of the cage.
Right as Ashby’s fangs had sunk through the skin, Anne and a group of guards had appeared in the basement.
And now he was here. At Surging Reef. Inside the abandoned lighthouse.
He’d never forget the smile Naveen had given Anne when the guards had dragged him away.
A setup.
He sighed and allowed a new wave of pain to wash over him. He was so fucking stupid.
Maybe he deserved to die here.
* * * *
The breaths rasped in Kazimir Wrenley’s chest as he ran as fast as he could without hurting Pharos, his dog of two weeks. Well, the dog wasn’t two weeks old. The vet estimated him to be three, three and a half years, but Kazimir had only had him for two weeks.
That night he’d snuck in to see Wolf Point Beacon, a lighthouse built in 1852. They didn’t have tours like many other lighthouses did, but he’d gone there to see it and had noticed a padlock on the door.
If they didn’t want people to enter, they should’ve locked it up properly. He was only having a look. It wasn’t in use, and he would never touch anything he shouldn’t.
He’d gone at night. It took away some of the magic to have to poke around by the light of his phone’s flashlight instead of taking in its full glory in daylight, but he couldn’t afford to get caught, and people noticed things when they were awake.
Still, the oak floorboards had taken his breath away, and it was clear someone had lived there. There was a room he assumed had been a kitchen, and there had been a small pantry with a few shelves still intact. Amazing. When he’d looked his fill, he’d left the lighthouse in the same condition he’d found it—apart from the bolt cutter he’d taken to the padlock.
When he’d left Wolf Point Beacon, he hadn’t been running. He’d walked in the calm of the night until he’d heard a low whine.
There, on the side of the road, he’d found Pharos. The poor little thing was unable to stand, his right back leg at an odd angle, and his fur matted with mud and dirt and blood.
Kazimir had taken him to the vet, learned he was an unchipped border terrier, who’d spent some time on the streets. He’d most likely been hit by a car and was now the proud wearer of a pink cast. The problem was he wasn’t allowed to run on the cast, and Kazimir needed to run. Luckily, Pharos accepted being carried.
Since Wolf Point Beacon had been a success, he’d grown bold and gone to Hamwick Point. It’s the only Heidenstam lighthouse he wouldn’t have to travel for days to see, and it was on his list.
The list contained over 2500 lighthouses, and he’d visited two hundred fifty-three of them. He had some way to go, but he didn’t mind.
One day, he’d own a lighthouse. He’d seen a documentary a few years ago about a group of men who bought old lighthouses and renovated them. He’d do that, but only with one. He didn’t dream about buying, fixing up, and then selling. No. He wanted a lighthouse. A pretty lighthouse where he would live, where the salty winds would caress the walls, where icy water would splash in the winter while he was warm and cozy inside and could look out over the roaring sea.
He didn’t know shit about renovating things, but he put away every penny he could because one day—one day—he’d own a lighthouse. Not a Heidenstam lighthouse. The one he’d visited today was cool. An iron tower resting on steel pipes with a spiral stair in the middle, fifty-nine feet tall, and finished in 1863. Impressive, but he didn’t want to live in one like that.
He would if it were the only kind he could get his hands on, but he’d always pictured himself in a masonry lighthouse, or maybe a screw-pile.
A shout sounded behind him. He cursed and upped his speed. He’d only wanted to see if he could climb the steel construction. The door into the staircase had been locked properly, not with a padlock, so he couldn’t get in. Or maybe he could’ve. He had his break-and-enter backpack with him, and in it he had a lock pick, but he wasn’t super quick at picking locks, and it was the middle of the day. It would look suspicious if someone caught him fiddling with the lock.
Instead, he’d dropped the backpack on the ground, told Pharos to guard it, and climbed the crisscross bars. He believed he could’ve climbed to where the solid wall took over, but someone had spotted him.
It wasn’t in use, so there shouldn’t have been a lighthouse keeper, but a man had come out of the small house situated nearby.
Kazimir had jumped down, grabbed the backpack and Pharos, who was waiting for him at the bottom, and ran. He hadn’t believed the idiot would chase him.
“Almost there.” He hugged Pharos a little tighter as he aimed for the cattle grid. His car was on the opposite side of the field, and luckily, the cows were hanging out at the other end of the pasture.
He didn’t have a clue how Pharos reacted around cows, and he didn’t want to find out. Especially not since they needed to get out of here, and he wasn’t allowed to run on his cast.
Kazimir sped up as the car came into view. They crossed another cattle grid, and he put Pharos down to unlock the car.
“In you go, bud.” He opened the passenger door and huffed as he lifted Pharos and put him on the seat. He’d strap him in later. He ran around the car and threw himself inside. He fumbled with the key for a bit, but got the car started and drove off.
He looked in the rearview mirror. The man had stopped by the first cattle grid. Kazimir didn’t think he’d be able to see his license plate from there.
“We did it!” He held up his palm to Pharos for a high five and got a yip in return. They’d have to practice more. He could do a high five if Kazimir held a treat in his other hand.
He drove for a minute or two before he stopped and put the seatbelt harness on Pharos. Then he blew out a breath and got them rolling again. “Time for some ice cream, don’t you think?”
Pharos only panted, tongue lolling, which Kazimir took as a yes.
Check out the National Lighthouse Day Box Set!
Celebrate National Lighthouse Day with this box set!
The National Lighthouse Day box set is a collaboration between Holly Day, K.L. Noone, and Amy Spector containing three gay paranormal romance novellas featuring lighthouses, along with ghosts, vampires, and elemental magic.
Contains the stories:
Surging Reef by Holly Day: One day, Kazimir will live in a lighthouse, but until he can afford one, he’ll simply have to satisfy his need by breaking into abandoned ones. Kazimir saves every penny he can to make his dream a reality, but lighthouses aren’t cheap. One night, when he breaks into one, he finds a vampire chained to the wall. He can’t leave him there, but how do you steal a vampire without getting caught?
Storm Point by K.L. Noone: Eric’s here to write a story about the Storm Point lighthouse. But a dark presence is summoning painful memories of his past and danger in the present. Mer’s a good sea-witch and lighthouse-keeper. But ghosts aren’t his specialty, and they’re growing stronger. The arrival of a gorgeous travel writer and untrained sensitive is a complication Mer doesn’t want. But Eric might be the answer he needs.
Milo Burnbrook and the Long Way Down by Amy Spector: After losing his job in California, Milo returns to Maine as the new event coordinator for the Rocky Cliff Lighthouse. Soon, sparks fly between Milo and Jackson, a man whose rejection sent him running from Maine in the first place. That is, until he discovers Jackson was the prime suspect in the death of his previous boyfriend, Jason Reese, who fell from the top of the Rocky Cliff Lighthouse.
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Paranormal Gay Romance: 60,798 words
It isn’t that I have a pretty garden. It’s not fit for any magazines or pretty Instagram posts. Far from. (Though you should see my zucchini plants right now. I might have gone a bit overboard with the zucchinis this year. I have eight plants, and… eh… the yellow flowers are so pretty!)
Ofelia Grand 