First Bite: Accidental Vampire PI, #1

By Avery Daniels

What's a positive thought girl to do when she finds herself one of the undead? Recite plenty of affirmations and use those new toothy skills to assist her PI boss, of course.

In 24 hours, Misty Summers had the worst date of her life, was bit by a vampire, and her PI boss may close his business as he goes through a divorce. Looking on the sunny side, she decides to use her new vampire assets and become the investigator to keep her job and income. She doesn't know what her future holds, but it can't be any worse! When she starts following up on a missing woman's case, she finds herself in the middle of murder. Even with her positive thinking and affirmations, she is finding her new reality daunting. But she vows to take a bite out of crime in her small lake resort town.

If you like Duffy Brown, Nancy Warren, Nova Nelson, Dionne Lister, Trixie Silvertale, and Leighann Dobbs, then you'll love this series with a quirky intelligent sleuth, small town lake setting, and tantalizing mysteries. Misty Indigo Summers is a positive thinking kind of gal and a most unlikely vampire and PI. Buy these fun and clean cozy mysteries and start enjoying Misty's adventures today!

 

Advance Praise: "Author Avery Daniels spins an intricate murder mystery tale full of vampires, witches, and talking cats that keeps you entertained from start to finish. Moving at a brisk pace, the plot takes wild twists and turns, keeping you guessing until the end. The characters are vibrant and colorful, with spirited personalities you can't help but find yourself attached to. The narrative follows Misty, an immensely likable young woman who wants to help others even at the cost of her own convenience. Her bubbly and optimistic personality is incredibly infectious and makes you root for her. I thoroughly enjoyed First Bite and heartily recommend it to vampire fans or readers who love paranormal sleuth stories." Reader's Favorite

• Language: English
• Publisher: Blazing Sword Publishing, Ltd.
• Release date: May 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9781735566368

Book preview

Chapter

One

I never want to see you again! I slammed the passenger side door. Roger sped off in his red truck, his dragging muffler sounded like a tray of silverware ground in a garbage disposal. That ended the date from hell. He took me to a cheap restaurant, we saw the budget dollar movie, and I had to pay for my own popcorn. I can understand being on a budget, truly, I get it. But then to get all handsy in a parking lot, right under a parking light! He had the nerve to get upset when I said no. I had to slap him. When he slapped me back, I elbowed him in his jewels. The complete jerk.

There was a sickle moon hanging lazily in the sky and a cool autumn breeze rustled the gold and russet leaves. I walked faster to warm up. I hadn’t brought a coat since I’d expected to be driven. A gust whipped my hair across my eyes and I swept it back. I took a deep breath and wondered at the smell of autumn, the slightly sharp tang in the crisp air. I wrapped my arms around myself.

The bright side was I stood up for myself and put an end to his assault. Unfortunately, I’m stranded after eleven in a rougher part of town on a Sunday night with nobody around. I wish I could strangle Roger’s pencil neck. I can walk off my anger; we don’t have an Uber or such in the small town of Majestic. I needed to recapture my positive vibes anyway, so a walk would do me good.

Another positive item to the evening was I didn’t spring for a new or previously owned dress for the evening. It would have been wasted on the moron, anyway. I wore my deep purple sleeveless turtleneck and black pants. It was classic and more than he deserved. My best friend, Courtney, had assured me this blind date would be different. Oh, it was different, all right, and not in a good way.

I’ve never actually had a good date, not one single good memory of a date. Tears stung my eyes. Enough negativity. I recited my mantra. I am ready for the perfect man for me. I am working on myself to be the person who will attract my perfect partner. After yet another disheartening experience, it’s all I can do to not blame it all on myself. Nope, the right man is coming to me. Yeah, okay. I may be trying to convince myself more than attracting Mr. Right into my life. I’m okay with that at the moment.

My low-heeled strappy sandals slapped against the sidewalk, an exclamation point with every step. There wasn’t any traffic, and I had a couple of miles to go. Other than my footsteps, it was quiet except for a dog barking in the auto salvage yard behind me. But I felt a presence and knew I wasn’t alone. I sped up. I was speed walking now and my heart hammered. This really wasn’t a good area. Majestic was a modest-sized town, just big enough to warrant two canines on the police force. I didn’t want to find out firsthand about the seedy side of town.

Were those footsteps behind me? I stopped abruptly. I heard a scuff, then nothing. My senses screamed run, and even though my sandals weren’t the best for it, at least they were strapped on. I grabbed hold of my purse strap to keep my purse with me. I didn’t care how it looked; I took off running for everything I was worth. My mind continued to yell, faster, faster!

One instant, it was a clear sidewalk in front of me, and the next I ran into a man who had just appeared. My mind reeled at his abrupt materialization. His eyes were strange; even in the dark, his eyes bore into mine. I took my purse and aimed for his head. He moved so fast I barely saw a blur. Next thing I knew, the guy was behind me, had pinned my arms, and was trying to give me a hickey!

Worst day ever! There just is no positive way to look at any of this night. I struggled, scratched, and kicked but was losing my energy quickly. I remember slumping to the ground. I think he was still attached to my neck. I wanted to keep fighting, but I couldn’t even stay conscious.

Chapter

Two

Iwoke up to my alarm clock. I swatted the alarm off and lay there in the dim morning light. Winston, the only male who has never hurt or disappointed me, licked my face. I stroked Winston’s short tuxedo fur, and he curled up against me, purring. My bedroom doesn’t get a lot of light since I live in the basement apartment of a house and the bedroom is on the north side.

Mrs. Maksimowicz (pronounced Mac-sim-oh-wits), a widow, owns the rest of the house over my head. One of my first jobs was cleaning the house for her when I was a teen, and I jumped at the chance to rent her newly renovated basement. She feels better personally knowing her renter, and I feel better being available to help her out. I sat up and could have sworn Winston complained at my moving.

Jumbled memories of last night floated through my head like a quickly fading dream. I bristled at the terrible date. But the attack… was I really attacked? I stood up and checked myself; no bruises, no signs of assault. I was in my slick faux-satin pajamas, so that was a good sign. I put on my glasses and they didn’t fit the same, like they were bent a little. Just enough for me to notice. I ran into the bathroom in my purple satin slippers and checked my neck. Nope, no sign of any hickey at all. I let out a sigh of relief. Although, I felt sore and achy all over, like the flu with a side of sluggish energy.

Maybe it had been a nightmare. A fading nightmare. For the life of me, I couldn’t remember how I got home. Could I have been so tired walking the few miles home on top of the adrenaline release from escaping Roger that I just didn’t remember?

I stared at my reflection. My blond curls were sticking up like I’d been electrocuted. I had dark circles under my eyes and appeared more pale than usual. I just had to suck it up and get my butt in gear. I had to get to work. I was at the six-month mark as secretary at My Private Sherlock, and my boss, Mr. Jarod Hunter, was moody and a stickler for being on time.

I got in the shower and found I wanted cold water only. It felt so good. Yes, it was a little strange, but on the bright side, I was saving on utilities.

I rushed to my closet to get dressed. I had a small assortment of previously owned business suits. I was dressing for the life I wanted, so I routinely shopped at the pre-loved stores for quality castoffs. I was debating between my dove-gray pantsuit and the brown skirt suit when I distinctly heard a voice grumble, You smell different.

I stopped with the hanger holding the gray suit in my hand and looked around my dimly lit bedroom. The only other living thing I could see was Winston curled up on the bed. I tiptoed, still holding the hanger, down the hall to the large square living room with my pre-owned tan couch and loveseat. The crocheted orange and yellow throw pillows were courtesy of Mrs. Maksimowicz, and the kitchen with its white cabinets and appliances. Not a soul. Was I starting to imagine things?

Back in my bedroom, I rushed to dress. Winston, I think I’m imagining voices now. Do you think talking to myself has caused this?

No. You finally can hear me. I won’t have to resort to pleading for food now. Can you fill my bowl before you rush out? My handsome tuxedo cat stared at me from the bed.

I shook my head. This could not be happening. I must be imagining things. Did I hit my head last night? I was late leaving for work, so I would have to schedule a nervous breakdown for after work. I filled Winston’s bowl, just in case, as I rushed out the door, my keys in hand.

The one reliable thing in my life was my handed-down two-door compact car. My brother, Ashton, the darling of the family, gave it to me because it wasn’t sporty enough for him. My parents, Jonathan and Rebekah, paid for his new car, so he didn’t even bother with trading it in, which was a stroke of good luck for me. After a life of being in Ashton’s shadow, it finally paid off for once. Oh yes, I call my parents by their first names. Only Ashton gets to call them Mom and Dad. But on the bright side, I haven’t bothered with Mother’s or Father’s day cards since I was thirteen. In case you are wondering, Jonathan and Rebekah haven’t even noticed.

I didn’t have a garage, so my charcoal-gray car with wide teal racing stripes down its sides was parked street-side. It was overcast with a forecast for rain but I didn’t bother with an umbrella. I would be in the office except for lunch and a little rain wouldn’t hurt me. Majestic, Oregon, has been bucking for the title of rain capital of the US for several years. Seattle, Portland, and Hilo in Hawaii kept beating Majestic, but I’m sure they will get their soggy title eventually. The rain would usually bother me, but I liked the subdued light today. The autumn colors seemed more vibrant to me, even with overcast skies.

I grabbed the newspaper at the office door with the top story about Councilman Reince Saxby trying to sell forest land and managed to sit at my desk exactly one minute before eight. Score! Ashton didn’t know how fast that little car could go.

I tucked my modest knockoff purse in the bottom drawer and picked up my coffee mug with its message, "I’m not just a secretary, I’m a big cup of wonderful covered in awesome sauce with a splash of sassy and a dash of crazy" proudly displayed and went to get a cup of sludge for energy. I’ll be the first to admit the cup was a moment of overcompensating for my pathetic parents and upbringing. Still, it was my favorite mug, and it made me smile.

The office was rented in a small strip mall two blocks from downtown’s main road. It was a good location, and the office was only twenty or so years old, so it was reasonably priced. Most days I enjoyed walking to the main downtown section for lunch in the Gone Fishing Deli or the authentic Italian pizza joint, Lakeside.

Downtown had undergone a rejuvenation about ten years earlier. The city council took drastic action to counter our near-comatose economy and adopted a theme like many other small towns had done to attract tourists. In Washington they have a town that is all Bavarian-themed, and in California there is a small town that is Danish-themed. Rather than go with an ethnic idea, they decided to accentuate their best feature, Majestic Lake. Everything in town was decorated, named around, or related to the lake. Lake-cabin decor abounded in every restaurant, bed and breakfast, and hotel. Lake-related tchotchkes were in every gas station and the grocery store. It was part of the licensing for businesses to have lake-related names if at all possible.

We had to agree to lake-related furnishing since our name wasn’t lake-related in the least. Over the coffee pot was a battery-operated singing fish hanging on a wooden plaque. It croons some country song about cool water. I took the batteries out a month after I started. Decorating the walls were a large canvas of Lake Rules, some boat oars crossed, coordinating wooden planks painted aqua on distressed white saying You’re on Lake Time and Life is Better at the Lake, and the impressive seven-foot-long two-man tree saw painted with a scene of Majestic Lake.

I poured the dark brown corrosive liquid into my mug. Mr. Hunter must be in early because I usually get the coffee going. I could hear somebody in his office, behind the closed door, and they were crying. If it was a client, they would be blubbering about their unfaithful spouse, but it wasn’t just the crying. Everything this morning was different.

I reached up and patted the silly fish. I took a sip of coffee and found it tasteless. I don’t mean flat or stale, I’m talking about nothing. I noticed I couldn’t smell anything either, not the coffee, not Mr. Hunter’s aftershave, nothing. Well, I still needed some caffeine to fuel my dragging butt. At least I didn’t have to suffer through the nasty-tasting stuff Mr. Hunter claims is real coffee, like the stuff they drank in the Army.

If my taste buds and nose were compromised for too long, I would have to go to the doctor. That’s an expense I’ll put off as long as I can since that would cut into necessities. I drank half of the coffee quickly and decided it was time to try iced coffee because the heat was just too much.

The crying in Hunter’s office stopped, a chair shifted, and the sound of footsteps walked to the door. Mr. Hunter opened the door, his eyes puffy and red. My mouth fell open. Mr. Hunter had been who I heard crying. His broad shoulders were slumped, and his crew cut somehow managed to look messy. I’d never known him to express emotion of any kind, let alone shed a tear. This couldn’t be good. Maybe a close relative had passed.

I thought I heard you come in. His bloodshot eyes stared at me but didn’t seem to actually see me.

I waited for a lecture about punctuality, five minutes early is on time, and so on.

I’m taking a few days off to handle some personal business. Classic Mr. Hunter. Wouldn’t want to share his human side and tell me what had him bawling.

Sure, sir. Were you close? My subtle way of showing sympathy.

She’s my wife, of course we were close. He scowled at me.

Oh, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry for your loss. Can I help with funeral arrangements? I put on my most understanding face. How terrible to lose your spouse.

He scoffed, She’s not dead. He took a deep breath. She wants a divorce and moved out. I need to follow her to her sister’s in Seattle and try to work things out. He ran a hand over his sandy-brown fuzzy head. Look, I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. I’m not even sure if I’ll stay in business. So you can go home. I’ll try and give you a few weeks’ severance pay and a good recommendation. He sniffed, and his eyes teared up.

He was in bad shape. I never would have guessed that underneath his tough-as-a-Sherman-tank exterior, he was so devoted to his wife. Of course, I didn’t know what he was like at home, and maybe I would be on Mrs. Hunter’s side if I knew better. All I did know was that suddenly I was without a job—again.

Don’t worry about anything. I’ll take care of closing up the office.

He shuffled out the door, leaving it open in his wake.

I shut the door and sat at my desk. The least I could do for Mr. Hunter was work those few weeks until he returned. I had invoices to send clients so there was money in the bank to pay me. Okay, so my motive wasn’t completely sympathetic and altruistic. I had rent coming due, so there was a bit of self-interest involved.

I conserved energy for the office bill by turning out the lights and turning down the heat. It was the beginning of autumn, so we were just beginning to need the heat in the mornings, but I seemed fine with cooler temperatures today, as evidenced by my cold shower. The lights turned off seemed good for my eyes. I even turned the light down on my computer screen.

I was on fire. My fingers seemed to fly over the keyboard, and in an hour, I had gotten twenty itemized invoices all generated and stamped, waiting for the mail carrier. Mr. Hunter was frugal, so we didn’t have a full-blown accounting program. I had to keep track of all the charges for clients and then compile them for the invoice. This normally took me a good part of the day. I even double-checked the invoice charges and totals before stuffing the envelopes. I crossed my fingers that a few of them would pay immediately so I could get paid.

Chapter

Three

After ten the phone rang. I figured I might as well keep up the appearance of the business being open, and that Mr. Hunter was on vacation for a couple of weeks.

My Private Sherlock. It’s elementary to hire us. How may I assist you? I cringe every time I have to say that ridiculous line.

Hello, Mr. Hunter, please, a man’s direct tone demanded.

"Mr. Hunter is out of the office for a few