The Vampire's Personal Assistant

By Jasmine LaRue

One wine-fueled night, after being fired from her third job since graduation, Samantha decides to reply to a mysterious ad seeking a personal assistant.

Rich businessman Mr. Haley has had trouble keeping assistants in the past, but isn't open about the reasons why. He also happens to be the most attractive man Samantha's ever met. Will the demands he makes of his new assistant be too much? Can Sam control the fantasies she has about her boss? And how will she react when she learns the truth...that Mr. Haley is a vampire?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jasmine LaRue
• Release date: Nov 17, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310823107

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The Vampire's Personal Assistant

by Jasmine LaRue

Distributed by Smashwords

Copyright 2014 Jasmine LaRue

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Sam's excitement grew as she sat cross-legged in front of her computer and glanced over the advertisement, pausing on phrases that sounded absurd and perfect: Personal Assistant Wanted...travel expenses paid...wardrobe considerations...maintain fitness and appearance. She shook her head and laughed to herself, pouring another glass of wine. It was worth a shot. She needed to send a picture with her resume.

Samantha had the impression that this mysterious employer would notice that her nicest clothes were cheap fashion from the mall. The monthly wardrobe allowance was, after all, more than what she took home last year. The only solution (and she giggled as she realized it) was to pose nude. It would be a great equalizer. (It didn't strike her at the time that anyone responding to an ad like this probably didn't have the disposable income necessary to buy designer clothes—she was not at a disadvantage.)

The challenge, then, was a backdrop. Sam looked quickly around her studio apartment for a clean, bare wall to use as a backdrop. The wallpaper (yes, faded pink and teal wallpaper—there were a number of reasons this studio was only $300 a month) was peeling on the only stretch of bare wall big enough to showcase her frame. She had to hang up a sheet.

This is when Samantha opened the second bottle of wine. She deserved it, after being let go from her job as a receptionist suddenly on a Friday afternoon. Things were more desperate than she wanted to let herself believe, at least until after the weekend. She was 25, unemployed, and her apartment was a mess. Perhaps her lowered inhibitions would make this an investment in her future. With her laptop propped on boxes on a bar stool, the image just a little tilted, she started stood in front of her nicest flat sheet and hesitated. She downed her glass of red, and with a