The Vampire's Breakfast

By Kera Faire

At a mysterious masquerade ball, two lovers with an unknown agenda wonder what will happen when the masks come off at dawn?
Dorissa has always refused Rafe’s offer of marriage, but this ball might just be the right time to change the ton's strictly-enforced rules. Provided they both survive until the morning...

Be Warned: BDSM, anal sex, spanking
This is a previously published work. It has been revised and edited for Evernight Publishing.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evernight Publishing
• Release date: Jun 20, 2016
• ISBN: 9781772338959

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Published by Evernight Publishing ® at Smashwords

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2016 Kera Faire

ISBN: 978-1-77233-895-9

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Editor: JS Cook

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.

THE VAMPIRE’S BREAKFAST

Kera Faire

Copyright © 2016

When the sky is dark and the time is right,

Vampires emerge to dance in the night.

To eat, play, and love, and think that they might…

Take one extra bite before it gets light.

Chapter One

What do you mean, it’s vampires at dawn? Dorissa stroked the pale lemon silk of her ball gown into place, noted how the neckline skimmed the swell of her breasts at just the right place to tease and tantalize and looked up at the elegant man who stood next to her. Did he really know what he was saying?

His domino mask dangled from his fingertips, and the strings danced in the slight breeze that also ruffled the wayward curls of her hair. His hair, of course, remained exactly as he intended. How did he manage that? Dorissa tucked one lock behind her ear. No one could ever call her neat and tidy.

Thank goodness.

He grinned and she thought the sobriquet, ‘saturnine devil’, could have been coined for him.

You heard me. Exactly. As per usual, his comments were brief in the extreme. Sometimes it irked her more than others. This was one of those times.

Damn him. Just for once can’t he expand on his replies? Tell me what he really means?

I thought it was a mere masked ball. Did she manage to keep the petulance out of her tone? It was hard to say, but she rather thought she’d succeeded. This time. Until he essayed his devilish grin—the one that could undo all her good intentions if she were not careful—twirled the mask until she went dizzy looking at it, bent, and kissed her nape. As ever, his kisses made her scalp tighten. The graze of his teeth over