Vampire Dreams

First in the Victorian Erotic Romance Trilogy

Homeless and without any family, Arden Stephens must live on the streets of mid 19th century London, never a safe place for a young woman. One night, as she is running for her life from an attacker, she is rescued by Brandon Ridley and offered a place in his home as his maid. Brandon is enchanted by Arden from the moment they meet, but just as she has secrets, so too does he. A vampire hundreds of years old, he yearns for the companionship she can give him. But for that he must make her one of his kind.

Nightly, he visits her in her sleep, preparing her for the night he will finally make her his own. For Arden, the wanton dreams she has about her handsome employer seduce her and each day when she wakes up, she finds herself more drawn to him. But love and desire aren't enough for Brandon to sire her. He must first obtain the approval of his maker, an ancient vampire named Vasilije who has thwarted his chance for happiness before.

But if Brandon can convince him, he may finally find the love he's been without for centuries.

Reviews for Vampire Dreams:

WOW, what an amazing read! This is why I love vampire erotica stories. As much as you love a dangerous vampire, it's mainly about the sensuality and seduction of a vampire that makes you enjoy the read. I have never read anything by this author as she is new, but when an author can amaze you with their first release you know you can expect only more good reading material.
~Lady Raven

Vampire Dreams is a short novella that wastes no time in delivering a romance with vampires, seduction and enough eroticism to have you fantasizing for the rest of the day!
~Lori, Romancing The Darkside

Using each page wisely, Bisset ably created threads of sexual tension throughout her novella, and the hero's entrance into Arden's dreams allowed the author to write an erotic vampire seduction while maintaining the heroine's uncertainty of the darkly delicious unknown.
~Moira, Brazen Broads Book Bash

Beyond the sensuality is a well-written story. The author constructs a vampire world where there is a hierarchy that involves rules of who a vampire can sire. In this world, potential vampires must be vetted through one's sire, and Brandon has the difficult luck of having a sire in Vasilije who's selfish and cruel. The conflict that grows out of these rules is interesting and makes me want to read more about this world.
~Selena, The Enchanted Book

The dark streets of the city lay sprawled out in front of her, filled with both possible danger and salvation. As she ran, her feet pounding on the stones beneath them, her breathing came in pants that stole the moisture from her mouth. Her eyes frantically scanned for someplace to hide as she pushed her legs to run faster.

She could hear his feet as each one solidly hit the ground behind her. His stride much longer than hers, he was coming closer with each step.

If he caught her...

The pounding of her heart hammered in her ears as the blood pushed faster and faster through her body. Up ahead, she saw a door ajar in a rundown building. If it was empty, she might be able to hide and hopefully escape from the pain of what awaited her if he captured her.

She slipped through the doorway, but her cape caught on the doorknob, costing her precious moments. As she worked to free herself, she heard his footsteps slow down to a walk, a sign he was as sure as she he'd won.

Free to run once more, she turned and ran headlong into the chest of a man who stood silently watching her.

"Please save me! He's coming for me!"

Without a word, the man took her by the arm and led her to a table near the far wall. With his hands on her shoulders, he hesitated a moment and then spun her around.

His voice deep, he said, "Place your hands on the table and bend over."

Unsure if she'd chosen a fate as horrific as the one she'd fled from, she did as she'd been told and waited in terror for what was to come.

The noise of her stalker entering the building caused her to turn her head, but the voice behind her sternly warned, "Face forward."

She felt hands lift her cloak and skirts, allowing the cool night air to hit the bare skin of her thighs. The feeling at once thrilled and shocked her, and she instinctively stood up to cover herself.

The man behind her forcibly pushed her back toward the table and leaned over her to whisper low in her ear, "Trust me," as he pushed his body firmly against her backside.

"Hey you! Where's the girl who came in here?"

With his hands on her hips, the man who gave her no choice but to trust him pushed his hips toward hers and thrust toward her still clothed body to simulate sex, complete with throaty groans.

"Hey! I asked you about the girl who came in here!"

Never looking back, Arden squeezed her eyes closed and waited for the attack she feared. Instead, she heard the man whose body continued to meet hers bark, "Go away! This whore's mine!"

Indignant at the use of the word whore to refer to her, she started to push herself up but his hand held her by the neck and forced her to remain still on the table. A sound like a hiss came from her protector and the other man hurriedly ran out of the building.

A hardness brushed past her thighs and she realized while she'd escaped death, she now faced being raped by this stranger who had asked her to trust him. Over and over, his erection teased her. Fear turned to arousal as she felt his stiff cock press toward her and her body begin to want him. His hand on her neck eased almost to a caress as he continued to hold her down.

Noises behind them told her the original attacker had been chased off, and when the thrusts stopped, she pushed back against him, forcing him off her. Spinning around, she smoothed her dress and snapped, "You are no gentleman! Whore?"

The man stood looking at her, a small grin creeping onto his lips. In a voice far silkier than she'd heard from him before, he said, "You didn't need a gentleman."

Realizing he had no intention of apologizing for calling her a whore, she stubbornly tried to push past him, unsure where she would go, but he blocked her path solid as a stone.

"Let me go! I demand you step aside."

"I wouldn't be that gentleman you expect if I simply let you walk back out into a potentially dangerous situation, Miss..."

After a few moments, she saw the sense in his words and relented. "Miss Stephens," and then added, "Arden Stephens."

"Well, Miss Stephens, I feel responsible for seeing you safely home, so if you'll just give me the address, we'll be on our way."

Sighing deeply, she dropped her gaze to the ground. Now he'd realize just what kind of person she was. Homeless. He'd probably think she'd deserved being chased as a thief or pickpocket.

"Miss Stephens?"

Arden looked up into his deep brown eyes that seemed to search her face and felt the warmth of humiliation grow in her cheeks. She looked at the fine cut of his clothes and his expensive coat and wrestled with how to explain that although she had no home, she was no street trollop to be looked down upon. She was just one of the unfortunate few whose father had died before his daughter had been blessed by a husband and whose mother had died of typhus in the last great outbreak.

"I don't have a home," she said quietly.

"Well, dear lady, the gentleman in me feels compelled to remedy that situation. You'll come to my home, and although I expect it's beneath your station and gifts, I can offer you the position of my maid as my previous one has recently left my employ."

Arden looked up and studied the face of the person who'd been the kindest to her since her father had died nearly a month ago. His brown eyes seemed gentle, but his face possessed a darkness that seemed contrary to them. She guessed he could be a few years older than her twenty years but noted how strong he'd proven himself, so she corrected herself realizing she couldn't place his age even as he stood no more than a foot away.

"I couldn't do that. I don't even know your name," she halfheartedly protested.

"Please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Brandon Ridley, and you seem to have few options better than my offer."
© 2011 Gabrielle Bisset