Read Fifty Shades Of Sparkling Vampires With Dragon Tattoos That Play Starvation Games for Free Online

my life story
was riddled with bad metaphors, shameless happenstance, and hollow
plotting, so what else was new?
    Besides, there was some seriously hot
and heavy humping to do, and my naughty bits could not have been
more ecstatic. And, as an added benefit, it turned out having a 104
year old husband meant he'd had over a century to master the art of
getting jiggy with it. But, all good sex came to an end though.
And, shocker of shockers, sometimes boinking had some permanent
repercussions (no, not the wacky siph dog). That's right, I caught
a nasty case of baby fever.
    If you could believe it, with one
completely improbable plot twist, I had a fanged bun in my oven
right there on my wanton honeymoon. It turned out vampire sperm
sure knew how to throw ovaries one hell of a party. Then it was
just like wham, bam, thank you zygote. Suddenly my life would never
be the same. Now if having an overactive fetus wasn't enough of a
sign that the honeymoon was over, morning sickness was the final
stake through my happy go lucky heart.
    ***
    Just like that, the soggy Northwest was
calling our names. Although nothing could have prepared us for the
spork in the road we came to next.
    "My vagina hurts," I kept saying to
myself as my pregnancy went completely off the rails. But I wasn't
the only one concerned with the turbo charged trimesters I was
enduring.
    "Wow, pregnancy really blows," Hunky
said, as comforting as a cactus in my crotch.
    "Yeah. This must be really awful for
you not having a watermelon-sized half fanged creature growing in
your belly. Let me cry you a crocodile tear river."
    "Now is not the time for sarcasm. I
know you've always wanted children, but if we don't do something,
that fanged freak might kill you."
    "Oh no you don't. We can't just bail on
our unborn bundle of joy at the first sign of complicated
pregnancy."
    "Honey, you've been throwing up
confetti puke all morning and your uterus has been shopping online
for a designer casket. We seriously have to consider giving up this
baby."
    "Did Second Fiddle give up wanting to
bone me even though I carved his heart out with a toothpick? No.
Have psychotic vampires given up trying to kill me even though I'm
the least special person in the history of ordinary? Hell no. And
has this fetus given up making me sicker than a dog even though I
asked it nicely to calm the hell down? Absotively not. So I ask
you, should we be the only ones to give up around here?"
    "Yes."
    "Well, so much for that online course I
took in rousing speech giving. Look, I know you're worried I might
do something melodramatic like die on you, but despite the fact
that I should have been killed about ten times right now, I'm alive
and kicking."
    "Actually, that's your baby using your
digestive tract as a deadly playpen."
    "Fine, Mr. Brooding Vondoomster. Have
it your way and be educated and smart and crap. But I'll have you
know that I have a connection to this baby. So if you want it,
you'll just have to go into my womb and get it."
    ***
    Meanwhile, on the other end of the soap
opera spectrum, Second Fiddle was having a hell of a time adjusting
to life as a shirtless hunky bachelor. Yet there the luscious lunk
was, pining for the pregnant one that got away. Never mind that he
could have been swinging his dingaling into any number of women’s
orifices at that very moment. He wanted to smolder passionately
over a girl that took projectile vomiting to a whole new
level.
    But being a member of the wolf pack was
about more than just cutting firewood while topless. There were
important decisions to be made. No, not about world peace, poverty,
or global climate change. About my potentially lethal bun in the
oven (I guess it really was true. I was the center of the
universe).
    But despite how pussy whipped Second
Fiddle was by me, he was only one wolf--and was vastly outnumbered.
So while the broken hearted wolf was securing his place in the
competitive moping hall of fame, his pack was pondering