One Bite Per Night

by Brooklyn Ann

  Drawing out the moment, Vincent slid inside her tight, wet sheath with impossible slowness, biting back a growl of triumph with each inch of his entry. Once he’d penetrated his bride fully, he remained still, luxuriating in the feel of their joining, and resumed kissing her silken lips, just as he’d done when he’d taken her virginity.

  Lydia trembled with the effort not to move. Her body clenched tighter around his cock, and he gave up the fight, rocking his hips with hers in an intoxicating rhythm. Needing her closeness more than anything in the world, he pulled her into his arms, feeling her heart pounding against his.

  She cried out against his lips as her core tightened and pulsed around him. Vincent deepened his thrusts, triumph roaring through him as he rode the wave of her climax and his own began. Something primal within roared. She is truly mine at last.

  For a second, their eyes met in savage hunger before, in tandem, they struck. Vincent plunged his fangs into Lydia’s neck, and she claimed his throat with equal savagery. As he drank down her sweet nectar, his orgasm increased, feeding hers until he was nearly blinded in the conflagration. After an eternity of mind-bending ecstasy, Vincent collapsed on top of her.

  “So,” Lydia gasped, heart hammering against his chest. “That is what you mean by savoring. May I do the same with you next?”

  He licked his lips in anticipation. “Of course, but be warned. I’m not finished enjoying you. In fact, I intend to continue doing so every moment I’m with you, and when we are back in Cornwall…”

  “Cornwall,” she breathed. “I cannot wait to be home again.” Her next words filled him with warmth. “Though I love Cornwall, you are my home.”

  Epilogue

  Christmas 1822

  Lydia embraced the Siddons sisters as they took their leave. Sally and Maria kissed her cheeks and thanked her once more for the paintings of Vauxhall Gardens…as well as the humorous caricature of a balding Thomas Lawrence.

  “Thank you for the lovely gowns…and the decadent undergarments,” she whispered.

  She could not wait to surprise Vincent later with the naughty crimson underclothes.

  She watched them climb into their sleigh, noticing that they looked much happier and more confident than when she’d first met them. The comforting time spent with their mother…and firsthand witness of Lawrence’s eternal guilt and loneliness, had been a balm to their tortured souls. Now they seemed to revel in their work as seamstresses, outfitting the vampires of Cornwall as well as a few wealthy mortals.

  With a satisfied sigh, she went back inside where Vincent waited with one last present.

  Lydia opened the package and squealed with joy. “A magic lantern!”

  “It is more a gift for myself.” Her husband grinned, fangs gleaming in the firelight of the Yule log. “I want you to make me more stories and more sunrises.”

  “Only if we can first enjoy our new bed. I want to test the strength of those iron bedposts.” Lydia stopped and put a finger to her lips. “Hush. Listen…” Her preternatural hearing detected the chime of sleigh bells approaching.

  Vincent raised a brow. “It seems we have visitors.”

  Moments later, Aubert announced the arrival of the Duke and Duchess of Burnrath.

  The duchess shook snow from her ermine-trimmed cloak before pulling Lydia into an embrace. “Happy Christmas!”

  “Happy Christmas to you as well. What a wonderful surprise it is to see you!”

  Angelica grinned. “We have just departed for our fifty-year sojourn. I am eager to travel the world, but we wanted to see how you two were getting on.”

  Before she could answer, Lydia heard Ian comment to Vincent, “She just said her final good-byes to her family. I thought she could use some cheering up.”

  “We are excessively happy,” she told the duchess. “How are you, really?”

  Angelica managed a brave smile. “As I have had over a year to prepare, I feel I am handling it rather well. It pains me that I won’t have the opportunity to see them again, but I am comforted by the fact that my mother and Papa will be too occupied with their new fortune to mourn me overmuch.”

  Lydia’s heart went out to her friend. She knew what it was like to lose family. For once she was grateful that she had no ties to her remaining kin.

  In effort to maintain the light mood, she ventured, “What is the talk in London?”

  “Georgiana and the marquess are already expecting a child. Lady Morley defected to her dower house after the wedding and has not been seen since.” Angelica lit a cheroot and gave her a wry grin. “People are saying she may have gone mad.”

  Vincent laughed. “That certainly calls for a celebratory drink. Now tell me, has there been much talk about us?”

  The duke looked up from his inspection of the Christmas tree. “There was a whirlwind of gossip when you first departed, but it has since died down. Now the subject on everyone’s tongues is our departure and, of course, Rafe. Since I leased him Burnrath House, he’s been pestered by countless curious mortals. Furthermore, the Elders forbade him from boxing for the duration of his lordship, and he is chafing under the restriction.” He turned to Vincent. “I would appreciate it if you would visit London and look in on him sometime after I am gone.”

  “I’d be glad to.” Vincent smiled. “Perhaps he can take his frustration out on the chessboard. Did he like Lydia’s painting?”

  “He did. In fact, he hung it up in his study.”

  Lydia warmed at the honor.

  “Rafe isn’t the only subject of talk.” Angelica leaned forward, dark eyes serious. “Lady Rosslyn caused a bit of a scandal when she applied to medical school.” She sighed bitterly. “She was turned away flat…and only because she’s a woman.”

  Lydia’s heart clenched in anger and sympathy. “That is completely unfair! Cassandra is the most intelligent person I’ve ever met. She would have made a fine doctor.”

  “She assured me that she hasn’t given up,” Angelica said with a hopeful smile. “Thus far she’s retreated to her dower house, doubtless working on a plan.”

  Ian nodded. “It would not surprise me if the countess found a way around such obstacles. The world is changing.”

  Vincent nodded solemnly. “But I feel it will be changing faster than even we can imagine.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Lydia rested her head on her husband’s shoulder. “As long as we are together, we can face anything.”

  ***

  Rafael Villar stood in the dark drawing room at Burnrath House, watching the snowfall blanketing the lawn. Warm light glowed from the windows of the neighboring houses where families were dining together and enjoying their exchanged gifts.

  Far away in Spain, his mortal family was doing the same. Alejandro, his uncle and Maker, should send him a letter soon, letting him know if the presents he’d sent arrived on time. The thought of presents made him think of the ones he’d received, the first in centuries. Vincent’s youngling had sent him a magnificent painting of a stormy sea, along with a jesting note saying that it reminded her of his temperament.

  Anthony, his third in command, had gifted him with a tin of Turkish cigars. He’d also received a beautifully illustrated copy of Don Quixote from Lady Rosslyn. Rafe stroked the cover and scowled.

  After Ian and Angelica departed, Rafe had enjoyed his new peace at Burnrath House. No more irrepressible duchesses, no more chaperones looking down their noses at him, no more snobbish, mocking whispers and stares from the ton, and best of all, no more inconvenient and dangerous involvements with mortals.

  Unfortunately, Lady Rosslyn seemed determined to disrupt that peace. He’d received several dinner invitations, and she’d even attempted to call upon him twice. Angelica’s friend had harbored a pointed interest in him since their first encounter at Burnrath House. When she noticed his scars, she did not regard them with disgust or pity like ev
eryone else. She only studied them with curiosity, an unspoken question in her eyes…eyes as bright blue-green as the Mediterranean Sea.

  Rafe had rebuffed all of her attempts to further their acquaintance, ignoring her subtle inquiries as to his refusals. He could not tell her that he was the most powerful being in the city. He could not tell her that the longer she remained in his vicinity, the more he wanted to yank out all of the pins restraining her auburn hair, to send the coppery mass tumbling over her perfect shoulders before plunging his fangs in her throat and tasting the very essence of her life.

  The front door opened, and a blast of winter air cooled his heated fantasy.

  “You missed a jolly good party, my lord.” Anthony shook snow from his tousled brown hair. “The champagne flowed, and Madam Florence’s girls were in a most generous spirit.”

  One glimpse of my face would quickly banish their generosity. Rafe frowned and lit a cigar. “Did you look in on the East End before your revels, as I asked?”

  His third sobered. “Yes, my lord. There is talk of humans roaming through the cemetery at night, though that seems to have stopped a few weeks ago. I told them to inform you straightaway if they see another one.”

  “Do you think they were hunters?” Rafe fought back a growl. His burn scars seemed to flare with fresh pain.

  Anthony shrugged. “I am not certain. If they were, I’d think they would have made a move by now.”

  Rafe shook his head and took a deep draw on his cigar. Between a pertinacious countess and the possibility of vampire hunters skulking in his cemeteries, his reign was not commencing as peacefully as he’d intended.

  Author’s Note

  The phantasmagoria was the precursor to modern horror films. Created in the late eighteenth century, the projected images of ghosts were used to fool people during séances. Even after the ruse was revealed, many people found the images so convincing that a 1798 production by Étienne-Gaspard Robert at the Pavillon de l’Echiquier in Paris was halted by police due to accusations that the magician was trying to bring Louis XVI back from the grave. These productions remained popular in Europe and America until the invention of motion pictures. Naturally, with Angelica’s taste for the macabre and Lydia’s skill in painting, these vampires embraced this invention. However, Lydia’s first love will always be traditional painting.

  The son of an innkeeper, Sir Thomas Lawrence rose to incredible heights with his gift for painting. He was supporting his family with his portraits at the age of ten. By the time he was eighteen, his work gained the attention of Princess Charlotte, thus granting him esteem—and commissions from the most important people in the country. In 1820, he became president of The Royal Academy of Arts.

  Despite his income from his work, Lawrence was frequently in debt due to overwhelming generosity toward his friends. He was also foolish in his love life, first being engaged to Sally Siddons, eldest daughter of the famous tragic actress, Sarah Siddons. Lawrence abruptly shifted his attentions to Sally’s younger sister, Maria. He threatened suicide if their mother would not seek Mr. Siddons’s approval of an engagement. Then, when Maria was stricken with consumption, he went back to Sally.

  Before Maria died (or became a vampire) in 1798, she made Sally promise never to marry Lawrence. Sally kept her promise and followed her sister to the grave (or became a vampire) in 1803. Grief stricken, Mrs. Siddons and her family broke all contact with Lawrence until around 1829, when he was commissioned to draw a portrait of her niece, Fanny Kemble, who was reputed to resemble Maria Siddons. It was his last portrait. Lawrence died abruptly in 1830, reputedly from “ossification of the heart” and blood loss.

  Perhaps the Siddons sisters had their revenge after all.

  Acknowledgments

  I owe my thanks to a lot of people, without whom this book wouldn’t have happened.

  To Kent Butler: Even though I barely knew you at the time, your awesome hair inspired my muse and gave me a template for my hero. Thanks for being cool about it when I confessed.

  To my editors, Deb Werksman and Susie Benton, for pushing me to make the book the best it could be, and for the many fun brainstorming sessions on weaving Thomas Lawrence and the Siddons sisters into the story.

  To my awesome publicist, Beth Sochacki, for her hard work in making my first book a success.

  To my son, Micah, for drawing an incredible map of the Cornish coast and situating Vincent’s castle.

  To Shelley Martin, Bonnie Paulson, Michel King, Millie McClain, Rissa Watkins, Dot Dittman, and Tana Essary for their priceless aid in critiquing the book.

  To Edward and Candice Francis for an incredible author photo shoot in the cemetery.

  To Dean Chamberlain for giving me a phenomenal release party for the first book and already helping me plan the next.

  To all my friends at Gus’s Cigar Pub for all of your support and encouragement.

  To all the people who saved my butt during times of crisis by providing aid and succor: Danae, Dot, Jade and Arlan, Dad and Kathy, Theresa, Grace, Asa, Aunt Wendy, Dean, Kent, Bill K., Bill F., and Bill S.

  And finally, to all my friends and family. You know who you are.

  Don’t miss the next of Brooklyn Ann’s Regency Scandals with Bite:

  Bite at First Sight

  Scarred, embittered vampire Rafael Villar catches aspiring physician Cassandra Burton alone in a graveyard at night, and you’ll never guess what strange bargain they strike…

  Coming soon from

  Sourcebooks Casablanca

  Bite Me, Your Grace

  by Brooklyn Ann

  London’s Lord Vampire has problems

  Dr. John Polidori’s tale “The Vampyre” burst upon the Regency scene along with Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein after that notorious weekend spent writing ghost stories with Lord Byron.

  A vampire craze broke out instantly in the haut ton.

  Now Ian Ashton, the Lord Vampire of London, has to attend tedious balls, linger in front of mirrors, and eat lots of garlic in an attempt to quell the gossip.

  If that weren’t annoying enough, his neighbor Angelica Winthrop has literary aspirations of her own and is sneaking into his house at night just to see what she can find.]

  Hungry, tired, and fed up, Ian is in no mood to humor his beautiful intruder…

  What readers are saying:

  “It was romantic and quirky and a lot of fun. The author writes with such heart. I can’t wait for her next one!”

  “I loved this book! Absolutely amazing!”

  For more Brooklyn Ann, visit:

  www.sourcebooks.com

  Forged by Desire

  by Bec McMaster

  Look for the fourth book in Bec McMaster’s highly acclaimed London Steampunk series, coming in late 2014

  The captain of the Nighthawk guard has a deadly mission: capture a steel-jawed monster who’s been preying on women. Capt. Garrett Reed hates to put his partner Perry in jeopardy, but she’s the best bait he has. Little does he realize, he’s the one about to be caught in his own trap…

  Perry has been half in love with Garrett for years, but this is not exactly the best time to fall in love—especially when their investigation leads them directly into the clutches of the madman she thought she’d escaped…

  Praise for Bec McMaster:

  “Bec McMaster brilliantly weaves a world that engulfs your senses and takes you on a fantastical journey.”—Tome Tender

  “[McMaster’s] descriptive powers are flawless and her ability to draw the reader in is unparalleled.”—Debbie’s Book Bag

  For more Bec McMaster, visit:

  www.sourcebooks.com

  My Lady Quicksilver

  by Bec McMaster

  I will come for you…

  He will find her no matter what. As a blueblooded captain of the Nighthawk Guard, h
is senses are keener than most. Some think he’s indestructible. But once he finds the elusive Mercury, what will he do with her?

  It’s his duty to turn her in—she’s a notorious spy and traitor. But after one stolen moment, he can’t forget the feel of her in his arms, the taste of her, or the sharp sting of betrayal as she slipped off into the night. Little does Mercury know, no one hunts better than the Nighthawk. And his greatest revenge will be to leave her begging for his touch…

  “McMaster continues to demonstrate a flair for wildly imaginative, richly textured world building. Set in an alternate version of London ruled by vampires…the perfect choice for readers who like their historical romances sexy, action-packed, and just a tad different.”—Booklist

  “One of my top books of 2013…just amazing.”—Royal Reviews

  For more Bec McMaster, visit:

  www.sourcebooks.com

  Lessons After Dark

  by Isabel Cooper

  Author of No Proper Lady, a Publishers Weekly and Library Journal Best Book of the Year

  A woman with an unspeakable past

  Olivia Brightmore didn’t know what to expect when she took a position to teach at Englefield School, an academy for “gifted” children. But it wasn’t having to rescue a young girl who’d levitated to the ceiling. Or battling a dark mystery in the surrounding woods. And nothing could have prepared her for Dr. Gareth St. John.

  A man of exceptional talent

  He knew all about her history and scrutinized her every move because of it. But there was more than suspicion lurking in those luscious green eyes. Olivia could feel the heat in each haughty look. She could sense the desire in every touch, a spark that had nothing to do with the magic of his healing abilities. Even with all the strange occurrences at the school, the most unsettling of all is the attraction pulling her and Gareth together with a force that cannot be denied.