Eternal Bite: A Limited Edition Collection of Vampire Stories | Book Blitz

Someone was watching. This wasn’t totally unusual for Ainsley Morris. Her job, after all, required her to wear an eighteenth-century tartan dress that laced so tightly, her breasts looked like they were going to explode. On top of that, her mane of long red curls was equally outrageous. (She’d never been the perfectly coiffed Cinderella at the ball. More like a curvier version of that crazy little redheaded chick from Brave.) But today Ainsley was getting a different kind of attention. Different, even for the Renaissance fair. 

Yes, people always looked and smiled at her, but Ainsley was just one small part of the larger spectacle. She’d never inspired such prolonged, individualized scrutiny. Seriously, if whoever was staring at her wanted a peep show, most of her neighboring vendors showed more cleavage than she did. And that included Kenneth. 

Ainsley casually looked down to check for any wardrobe malfunctions. Maybe she’d slipped a nip and hadn’t noticed. But nope. Nothing too scandalous there. 

She scanned the evening crowd, sifting through the paunchy men with their Minnesota Vikings T-shirts, college kids in their Saint-Whatever sweatshirts, and Girl Scout leader moms with gaggles of tired kids in their wakes. Nothing seemed out of the norm, but there it was again—heated, intense, the itch turning into a burn. 

She tried to diffuse her unease by straightening the vials of perfumes, herbal remedies, and floral-scented notepads on her shelves. Wafts of rose water, peppermint, and lavender filled her nose. 

She’d first applied to work at the fair when she was eighteen, hoping to get cast as a villager. But when she’d mentioned she was going to study botany in college and showed them some of the essential oils she’d made from plants in her own garden, she was given Ye Olde Apothecary booth and told she could supplement the wares with creations of her own, taking a higher commission for those, of course. 

That was three years ago, and now she had a sizable collection of her own home remedies for sale—peppermint oil for headaches; palmarosa and frankincense for wrinkles; chamomile for muscle aches. Not that she was getting rich off it. Most people spent their money on beer and turkey legs, or on some of the “sexier” vendors—like her friend Julia who did tarot and palm reading, or even Kenneth in the neighboring booth who tooled leather belts and vests, mostly for motorcycle folks and dominatrixes. 

So much for trying to distract herself. The weighty gaze was still there, making her hand shake so much she toppled three bottles. 

But she couldn’t fully convince herself. The man’s energy—yes, she was quite certain it was a man—was heavy, hungry even. His intensity followed her every movement, burning into her skin as she re-arranged the tiny vials and tried to look busy. 

A welcomed breeze lifted strands of her hair, tickling her bare arms and raising goosebumps. Her nipples went hard as cherry pits under the thin chemise. 

The man’s attention made her feel awkward and virginal, which was exactly what she was. Ainsley knew what kind of damage a man could do. She’d seen it first hand, and that’s why she swore she’d never flirt with her own disaster. Besides, she preferred the botany lab to Friday night keggers and hookups, and she could take care of her own…um…physical needs just fine, thank you very much. 

Dependable, trust-worthy, honest men were about as real as the love potions she hawked to lure in buyers. 

“How’s it goin’, Ainsley?” asked a throaty feminine voice. 

Ainsley’s head jerked up, thankful for the diversion. The tightness in her chest eased at the sight of Julia, who had a colorful head scarf tied around her long, Afro blowout. Her neck was draped in a half dozen gold bangles, and her turquoise eyes—courtesy of colored contacts—were mesmerizing. She looked every bit the mystic, which was why, when Julia told your fortune, you bet you believed it. The girl made bank. 

“What’s up, Jules?” 

“All my male customers,” Julia teased. “I swear something’s in the air today. One guy seriously bent over and licked my hand when I was reading his palm.” 

“Oh my god. Ew.” 

“I should have kicked him under the table. How have sales been for you?” 

“Got enough in commissions for a few drinks at an overpriced bar,” Ainsley said, touching the leather satchel she wore around her waist. 

“Oooo. Got big plans tonight?” 

“For once. Yeah. It’s my best friend’s bachelorette party, and I,” Ainsley paused for dramatic effect, “am finally twenty-one.” 

“That’s right!” Julia exclaimed, her necklaces jingling. “Happy birthday!” 

There was a high-pitched laugh from the far side of Ainsley’s booth, and they both looked. A group of middle schoolers were uncorking the sample bottles and dabbing them on each other’s necks. 

Ainsley knew they wouldn’t be buying anything. They’d obviously spent whatever money their parents had given them on charcoal caricature drawings and those stupid floral crowns with the streamers. Any minute now…yep. Great. They’d gone and spilled the eucalyptus. A whiff of mint and menthol hit the air. 

“I hate middle schoolers,” Ainsley muttered with a sigh. “I hate that they think they’re cooler than me. Age should give me the upper hand.” 

“You’re plenty cool,” Julia said reassuringly. 

“Really? I’m a Renaissance cos-player whose career ambition is to someday be named a Distinguished Fellow of the Botanical Society of America." 

“Uh-huh,” Julia said, her expression flattening. “I don’t know anything about that but—” 

“I skipped out on a spring break trip with my friends to work on a research project in the botany lab.” 

“Honey…” 

“My best friend calls it the lobotomy lab, and I can’t tell if she’s kidding or not.” 

“Okay. So maybe not super cool, but that’s no way to feel when you’re about to hit the town with your girls. Look at me.” Julia gestured at her necklaces. “What you need is a little bling to brighten your mood.” 

Julia glanced around. When her gaze landed on something to her left, she stifled a laugh. Ainsley followed her gaze and saw that one of the middle schoolers had accidentally left her floral crown behind. The flowers were sad and limp from a full day in the sun. 

“Julia, no.” 

Julia’s smile widened. She grabbed the wilted wreath and placed it on Ainsley’s head. “Yasss, queen!” 

Ainsley’s eyes shifted to the crowd, still feeling the elusive man’s heated stare. In fact, her whole body felt hot. There was a burning sensation in her stomach that rose to her chest and shot down her arms, making her fingers tingle. When she looked back, she was surprised to see that Julia’s jaw had gone slack, but her eyebrows had hit her hairline. “Julia?” 

“Whoa. Ainsley. Go look at yourself.” 

Confused, Ainsley left her booth and stepped in front of Kenneth’s full-length mirror. Same exploding cleavage, same outrageous hair, but the floral crown, it had…bloomed? The sad little carnations had nearly tripled in size. “What the heck?” 

Her neck prickled. Was she imagining things, or had the stranger’s gaze just gone from heated to electric? She spun around, looking for the source, and thought she saw a blur of color ducking behind the blacksmith stall. 

Julia jumped back. “What’s wrong?” 

“I just felt… I don’t know… Maybe I’m going crazy.”