Don't Stake My Life on It

By Bailey Bradford

Stakes, kilts and holy water—Andrew Meyer is in for the time of his life!

Radney's tired of being the coven oddball. He had his reasons for being the way he was, and he let those reasons rule his life for centuries. Another mistake—almost harming a human he'd been sent to keep an eye on—has sent Radney on a mission of self-improvement. He's going to conquer his issues and be the best damned vamp ever!

Maybe.

Andrew Meyers has the term paper from hell to write. It needs to be original and intriguing. What could be more so than people with a vampire fetish?

But when that fetish turns out to be one he has, for a very sexy, kilt-wearing, neurotic vampire, the tables are turned. Andrew isn't prepared to find out that vampires are real, but he learns it anyway. With help from his twin brother, Erin, he just might be able to find a happy ending—or an ecstatic beginning—for him and his hot as hell red-headed vamp. If he's careful, and patient, he might even find the vamp for him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pride Publishing
• Release date: Aug 25, 2015
• ISBN: 9781784306663

Bailey Bradford

A native Texan, Bailey spends her days spinning stories around in her head, which has contributed to more than one incident of tripping over her own feet. Evenings are reserved for pounding away at the keyboard, as are early morning hours. Sleep? Doesn't happen much. Writing is too much fun, and there are too many characters bouncing about, tapping on Bailey's brain demanding to be let out. Caffeine and chocolate are permanent fixtures in Bailey's office and are never far from hand at any given time. Removing either of those necessities from Bailey's presence can result in what is known as A Very, Very Scary Bailey and is not advised under any circumstances.

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Don’t Stake my Life on It

ISBN # 978-1-78430-666-3

©Copyright Bailey Bradford 2015

Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright July 2015

Edited by Rebecca Douglas

Pride Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Pride Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Pride Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2015 by Pride Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN

Pride Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.

The Vamp for Me

DON’T STAKE MY LIFE ON IT

Bailey Bradford

Book two in The Vamp for Me series

Stakes, kilts and holy water—Andrew Meyer is in for the time of his life!

Radney’s tired of being the coven oddball. He had his reasons for being the way he was, and he let those reasons rule his life for centuries. Another mistake—almost harming a human he’d been sent to keep an eye on—has sent Radney on a mission of self-improvement. He’s going to conquer his issues and be the best damned vamp ever!

Maybe.

Andrew Meyers has the term paper from hell to write. It needs to be original and intriguing. What could be more so than people with a vampire fetish?

But when that fetish turns out to be one he has, for a very sexy, kilt-wearing, neurotic vampire, the tables are turned. Andrew isn’t prepared to find out that vampires are real, but he learns it anyway. With help from his twin brother, Erin, he just might be able to find a happy ending—or an ecstatic beginning—for him and his hot as hell kilt-wearing vamp. If he’s careful, and patient, he might even find the vamp for him.

Dedication

To being comfortable in your own skin.

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

iPhone: Apple Inc.

Doc Martens: Airwair Intl Ltd.

Excedrin: Novartis Consumer Health, Inc.

HBO: Home Box Office, Inc.

Chipotle: Chipotle Mexican Grill

Goodwill: Goodwill Industries International Inc.

Prologue

Sometimes people, and vampires, make mistakes. I made a big one not so long ago. Well, another big one. See, I really hate feeding from humans. I know, weird for a vamp, but there you have it. This can be a problem, in case that isn’t obvious. What happens is, blood lust hits. Makes a vamp bat-shit crazy. Turns us—okay, me—into a borderline psychopath, when really, I’m a nice guy.

Doesn’t do much for appearances, either. Without enough blood, we turn into pale, shrunken versions of ourselves. Okay, okay, I do. What happens to other vamps in the same instances? I couldn’t say, because I don’t like thinking of the past.

So, I screwed up, but I’m going to fix it. That’s what I was thinking once I had my head on straight and some blood in my belly. But you know, nothing ever works out the way I planned—and maybe that’s a good thing.

Chapter One

"I am not crazy! Radney stomped his right foot for emphasis. And if anyone should be in trouble, it should be Tony since he’s the one who sent me after that tubby human!" Stomp!

"Radney Darrow, if you stomp that foot one more time, I swear I’ll throw you over my knee and paddle your ass." Unlike Radney, Claude spoke calmly, as if he were talking about the weather.

It was downright spooky. Radney shut his mouth but glared and folded his arms over his chest.

As coven leader, Claude could do whatever he wanted to Radney. A spanking sounded particularly humiliating.

Vampires shouldn’t be punished like small human children would be, he grumbled, irritation getting the better of him.

Well, Claude drawled, if you insist on acting like a child, I won’t hesitate to treat you like one.

Radney pouted.

Claude rolled his eyes. Tony has been chastised for sending you after Augustin. What were you thinking, to terrify the human like that?

Thrilled with a chance to explain, Radney enthusiastically answered, "I was thinking that I’d scare him into never, ever speaking of vampires again. And maybe that he’d taste sumptuous. He’s really plump, after all, like a nice, stuffed goose. I mean, yeah, I don’t like to bite people, but I was really, really hungry. He smacked his lips together, his mouth watering. I didn’t get to feed before Tony sent me, either."

You know where your blood supply is kept, Claude said.

But it was stale, Radney complained. At least he refrained from whining. Paulo brought me the stuff the blood donation place threw out. It was gross.

Claude stood. Was it? I’ll check it and if you’re not lying, I’ll have a word with Paulo. If you’d just drink regularly, you wouldn’t get in these predicaments.

If by predicaments, Claude meant Radney wouldn’t starve until he nearly lost his shit from blood lust, he was probably right.

I don’t like biting humans, Radney repeated. The only way he managed it was if he was out of his mind with hunger. They scream.

"We’ve been over this many times before. They do not scream. Not if you do it right." Claude tugged at his shirt cuffs. Always immaculately dressed, Claude was never seen in anything other than one of his expensive, tailored suits.

Maybe you should spank whoever decided it was a good idea to set up a vampire dating website to attract humans, Radney suggested. I mean, I get that you guys like to hook up all the time, but—

You guys? Claude said in that calm, creepy voice again.

Radney knew he’d screwed up big-time. Yeah, I mean gay men. Everyone knows they like to, um, play around a lot. Gods knew Radney had seen how horny his sire, Beiste, had been. Though to be fair, Beiste fucked men and women, and probably things Radney didn’t want to know about, so he shouldn’t have stereotyped anyone. That’s what I heard it’s like to be gay nowadays.

And tell me, Radney, do you see me bringing in a parade of hot young men to fuck on a nightly basis? Claude narrowed his eyes. No, you do not. I’ve had enough of your bigotry.

What? Radney shook his head. I’m not bigoted! I read that book in the library, the one Chelsea gave me on homosexuality in the twentieth century. If I was a bigot, why would I read that? Plus, there’d been things in his past, albeit he’d had little control over them. But still.

God, Claude groaned. Chelsea gave you a book on homosexuality? Why? And even more importantly, why did you take it from her and read it?

Radney was beginning to suspect he’d been played the fool by Chelsea. Uh. She told me if I didn’t read it, she’d stake me in my coffin while I slept?

Did she really? Claude asked.

It sounded better than the truth, but Radney couldn’t hold out on a lie to Claude. "Er, no. But she did say I’d wake up bald if I didn’t educate myself, and she handed me that book. She was also the one who’d insisted that it was okay for him to tell a certain joke that, in retrospect, he could clearly see was inappropriate. Sometimes I’m gullible."

I am aware, Claude acknowledged. Describe the book cover to me.

It was the one with a picture of a Bible and this ugly old guy on it, Radney said. Like boner-killingly ugly.

That book was written by a conservative talk show host who hates everyone and everything that isn’t an old, white, wealthy male, Claude explained.

Oh. Radney considered that information for a moment. Well, if it helps, I didn’t make it past the third chapter, but don’t tell Chelsea.

I’ll be telling Chelsea quite a few things, Claude assured him. It might be in your best interest to take a little vacation. I’ll have Paulo supply you with fresh blood shortly.

Am I being punished? Because it didn’t sound like he was being punished, which was a relief.

No, though the next time you do something as asinine as terrorize a human, I’ll bury you for a century. Claude crossed over to the door.

What about Tony? Radney dared to ask. Tony was Claude’s favorite vampire, the one he was training to take over the coven. Radney was more than a little jealous about that, though he shouldn’t have been. Claude wasn’t his sire, after all, just his leader.

Tony has been dealt with. He gets to take care of the human, Augustin. Claude opened the door and smiled slightly. And by the way? I wouldn’t advise mocking Augustin over his weight, or quoting any of the ridiculous shit you read in that book. Augustin strikes me as the kind of man who will exact revenge for each insult.

Revenge? Radney giggled. What’s he going to do? He’s just a human.

Claude’s disdainful expression almost crushed Radney. Don’t be a bigger fool than you already were tonight, Radney. Being human doesn’t mean being weak.

Radney hated disappointing Claude. Yes, sir. He bobbed his head, already working on ways to show Claude he wasn’t a total loser.

And he wasn’t a bigot! Radney had just been joking that one time, repeating something Chelsea had told him. He’d laughed with her, and she’d encouraged him to share the joke. He was really coming to hate her.

Gods, he wouldn’t want to live in the coven if he was bigoted! Was the joke really that bad? Or is the problem that everyone else lacked a sense of humor and education about comedy.

Comedians always push people’s comfort levels. Well, the most famous comedians do. Not that I want to be a comedian, but it’d be great to make a joke without everyone getting their panties in a wad. Jeeee-zuz!

I make jokes about everyone, Radney griped as he started to leave the room.

No one thinks your jokes are funny, Claude snapped. They’re rude and offensive. You’re more the class bully than the class clown.

That stung enough that Radney actually cringed. I’m not a bully! he said, then he transformed into a bat and flapped away as quickly as possible.

Chapter Two

Radney generally didn’t care for the great outdoors, but having found a cave to hide in for a few days had been necessary. Chelsea was mean enough to off him and to take on Claude if he tried to punish her for it.

Not that Claude would hold back with her any more than he did with Radney. Even so, Radney was beginning to suspect that Claude would do a happy dance if Radney ran off permanently or got staked. The more time Radney spent pouting, the sorrier he felt for himself.

Unfortunately, he needed to feed. Paolo had brought him fresh bagged blood before Radney had left. There was no way Radney wanted to risk getting so hungry he went nutty with blood lust again. Plus, he wanted to prove to Claude that he wasn’t totally useless. Radney remembered his time as Beiste’s property. Anyone who hadn’t served Beiste well had come to an ugly end. He’d never let anyone be a burden.

A burden to the coven. That’s what I am, but not for much longer.

Radney yawned and