It's got a lot of work to be done. The plot needs tightening in several places, the inconsistencies are outrageous, and all the dialogue sounds like me! But here's the opening two paragraphs.

My master got in rather late this morning, reeking of sushi and Chanel No 5. He went straight to bed, didn't pet the dog, didn't feed the goldfish, didn't lock the door even. I couldn't tell from his demeanor if he'd had a successful or unsuccessful evening. But apparently he was tired. He's been seeing this one particular lady, a rich widow with a broad neck. He rarely marries his marks: he isn't the kind to fall in love, and it doesn't require marriage to bite.

But I'm being rude. I should introduce myself. My name is Fang, and I'm a Kuvasz. My master is a vampire. I don't know when I first discovered he was a vampire. The fact that he never goes out in the daytime was a clue. That he never cooks with garlic. That he has a scrapbook by his bed with cut-out photos of women's necks from magazine necklace advertisements. But I think it was the subscription to VQ that finally tipped the scales.