This one just didn't do it for me. I was in a state of "ungrippedness" for all of it, and it just left me thinking, "That's it? Meh." It could just be me; I freely admit to being sick to death of erotic vampire stories.
The 'Erotic Lesbian Vampire Fiction' label is a big hump (forgive the word choice) to overcome, in fact, 'erotic-vampire' anything has a lot to answer for...
I don't think this story overcame said hump.
A lot of good honest ink and paper(more recently, electron and pixel) has been slain in the pursuit of purple-prosed blood/sex fetishism.
This genre suffers from the same problem all, yes, I mean
all erotic fiction suffers from:
Eroticism and its triggers vary on a person by person basis, as such, all erotic fiction is by definition subcategorized and specialized. Even the 'vanilla' Harlequin stuff can generally be categorized as: 'heterosexual, white, bourgeois tales ending in long-term commitment/marriage.' (I know this is a tendency, not an absolute. Save your words, Harlequin fans.) People into different things will likely be nonplussed by such stories.
Erotic fiction, by its very nature rarely has universal appeal, even if the main thrust (forgive the wording, once more) of the work isn't titilation.
I'm not personally offended when someone has a scene describing acts involving body parts I don't have, and erotics triggers that don't effect me (some people are), but I'm often bored.
Leaving all this aside:
This story, in my opinion, failed to acheive plot. Vignettes are fine, but again, a specialty work.
What was actually different at the end of the story? A giant thing moves in the deep, and the main character says 'oh, my master mentioned a giant thing...I hope she digs me up soon.' Meh.