Fashionably Dead in Diapers Read online

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title

  Edition License Notes

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Epilogue

  Fashionably Dead in Diapers

  Book 4 of the HOT DAMNED Series

  By

  Robyn Peterman

  * * * * *

  Copyright 2014 by Robyn Peterman

  Cover by Rebecca Poole, dreams2media

  Edited by Mary Yakovets

  Edition License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should delete it from your device and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is coincidental.

  This book contains content that may not be suitable for young readers 17 and under.

  Dedication

  This one is for my babies, Henry and Audrey. Nope, you can't read Mom's books yet, but eventually I will let you (like when you're 30-ish). You two are my reason for doing everything that is worthwhile and good. Thank you for being mine.

  Acknowledgements

  Writing a book is a solitary process, but that is only part of what it takes to put a book out. I am a very lucky girl and I have wonderful people around me.

  First of all, Donna McDonald—you are my Mystery Science Theater partner and I would be a mess without you. Thank you. You have no clue how much you mean to me.

  Mary Yakovets, your editing has saved me from myself too many times to count. You rock.

  Rebecca Poole, your covers are perfect. You have crawled inside my brain. This is very brave of you and I am so very grateful.

  My beta readers, Melissa, Christie and Kellie, your insight is invaluable. I am indebted.

  My Pimpettes, you make life so much fun and your dedication humbles me. Smooch.

  I’d be dead in the water without my critique partners, Donna and Kris. I will walk through fire for you.

  And my family. You make all of this worth it. Thank you for understanding that I talk to imaginary people and for being quiet when I write. Without you, life wouldn’t be any fun at all.

  Chapter 1

  Once upon a time there was a little boy. He was like no other. His power knew no bounds and he was destined for greatness. However, he had to get through teething and diapers first.

  “Ethan, come here. He looks wasted.”

  I sighed with joy as I caressed the beautiful baby at my breast. He looked up at me with lazy eyes and a milk-drunk grin. My heart clenched. His little fangs peeked through his full pink lips and I was relieved he knew better than to chomp down on my boob—those fangs were sharp little suckers. My baby was freakin’ brilliant and he was mine. I pinched myself constantly to make sure this was all real.

  “I love you so much it hurts,” I whispered as I buried my face in the wisps of curly blond hair on his head. Samuel had grown much faster than a regular child. It was as alarming as it was fascinating. At the rate he was going, he’d be a toddler in a month.

  Our bedroom suite at the Cressida House had been turned into a massive nursery—complete with a crib, mobiles, playpens and more stuffed animals than I knew existed. There was also a large pile of nylon dog bones. It was the only thing that he could chew and not destroy in thirty-three seconds—it took him at least a half hour. I felt a little unsettled about giving my child canine toys, but I figured whatever worked was okay. It was better than him chewing on the furniture. The loss of two couches and a seven hundred year old priceless coffee table made me search out an alternative method for him to relieve the pain of teething—hence the truckload of dog bones. However, whenever someone inquired about the neon green and purple toys, I lied and told them we'd gotten a pet Hell Hound for Samuel.

  “He’s a smart boy,” Ethan said quietly as he took in the scene. “I’d stay at that breast for eternity if I could.”

  “You’re a pig.” I grinned with delight at my mate as my insides tingled at the thought of him near my breast or any of my private parts. Having Sammy had put a bit of a crimp in our over-active sex life and I was ready for that to be rectified.

  “Actually, I’m a Master Vampyre and a Prince, but pig will do for the moment.” He winked, which made me want to jump him, but the precious child in my arms put a stop to that.

  I mumbled grumpily as I watched him walk away.

  "Silly, silly—pretty lady, I hate fucking naps. Asswaffle, shit-monster, Jesus in booty shorts. Boobies, boobies, boobies."

  "What did you just say?" I hissed at Ethan. My eyes narrowed and I put Samuel down on the bed.

  "I'm fairly sure I just gave you permission to call me a pig. A rare first for me," Ethan said as he sauntered back in and tried to cop a feel.

  Not happening.

  "That is not what you said." I crossed my arms over my naked chest and gave him the stink eye. My temper had been short lately, most likely due to not getting laid…but calling me names was not working for me. "You called me an asswaffle shit-monster!" I snapped.

  "I beg your pardon," Ethan said as he bit down on his lip to stifle his grin. "I most certainly did not."

  "You most certainly did," I shot back as I yanked a tank top over my head. "Along with saying my Cousin Jesus wears booty shorts and then calling my knockers boobies—three times."

  "Interesting," he commented as he plopped down on the bed and wrapped Samuel in his strong embrace. The baby cuddled up to his father and cooed as he grabbed a fistful of Ethan's hair and shoved a chubby thumb into his mouth.

  If I wasn't so pissed I would have joined the two men I loved more than anything in the world, but I wasn't done yet.

  "Did I say anything else?" he inquired casually.

  "As if you didn't know." I rolled my eyes and got up in his perfectly gorgeous face. "You said you hate fucking naps…Oh shitballs," I shrieked and slapped my hands over my mouth. "Impossible. No fucking way."

  We both stared at Samuel. Ethan was thoroughly amused and I was horrified. My perfect little three month old son glanced up and winked. If I could have hurled I would have. However, Vampyres can't puke.

  "Ohmygodohmygodohmygod, I am an unfit mother," I shouted as I paced the room frantically. "I give my son dog bones and he already curses like a fucking sailor. Vampyre- Demon social services will take him away. We have to get out of town and you have to watch your language around him. Do we have duct tape?" I demanded.

  "I'm sure we can find some," Ethan said as he watched me race around the room like a lunatic.

  "That's good. I need to strap my mouth shut for about a year and then everything will work out fine. Samuel," I said sternly. "You just said some really
shitty words. We do not fucking speak like that in this house. Do you understand Mommy?"

  Samuel giggled hysterically and flipped me off.

  "Sweet Baby Jesus in a thong," I screeched. "Where did he learn that?"

  "Gamma Gigi," a sweet voice bounced through my head. Ethan sat up with a look of utter shock on his face.

  "Did you hear that?" I demanded as he stared at his son.

  "I did," he said reverently. "Amazing."

  "It's not amazing. It's bad. Very bad. He's three months old. He's the size of a nine month old according to those dumb-ass human baby books and he can flip the bird. What is amazing about that?"

  Sparks began to fly from my fingertips and my hair began to float around my head. This was so not happening.

  "This is a fine excuse to forbid your grandmother from coming to visit him anymore," Ethan volunteered logically.

  That gave me pause. Maybe this wasn't all my fault. My crazy ass family had been around constantly. Uncle Satan. Pam aka my guardian angel. Mother Nature aka Grandma Gigi. My cousins, the Seven Deadly Sins. Son of a bitch—I was an unfit mother. No child should hang out with Satan on a daily basis. I mean he was fun and all, but he was still the Devil.

  "We're having a meeting," I said as I shoved all the dog bones under the bed. "Every last one of them is going to sit here and listen to the new fucking rules. No more swearing or bird flipping." I froze. "Do you think the Baby Demons took him to a strip club?"

  My stomach dropped to my toes. I didn't deserve this child. We were the most dysfunctional lot imaginable. He would be better off with normal parents who didn't swear, fly and destroy cities with the flick of a finger.

  "I'm going to lay down the law and if anyone disagrees, I'll tear their head off or at the very least maim them thoroughly."

  "You're not serious," Ethan said. A look of horror marred his ridiculously handsome features. "That will be a clusterfuck of epic proportions."

  "Clusterfuckclusterfuckclusterfuck," Samuel gleefully bellowed in our heads.

  My eyes narrowed dangerously at my mate and my son.

  "Fine." Ethan sighed dramatically. "But get ready for life to be over as we know it."

  "First of all, we're already dead, so that part of the argument doesn't work, Little Mister Master Vampyre. And if we keep going at the rate we're traveling, we'll have a depraved convict with absolutely no morals on our hands."

  Samuel pulled his wet thumb from his mouth with a pop and grinned. "Bite me, assjacket!" he yelled at his father in an adorable voice that was no longer confined to our heads. It was loud and clear and I had to bite down on my cheek to keep from laughing. Of course the laughter died a violent death in my throat as my perfect son wiggled his chunky fingers and set the curtains on fire.

  "Call everyone. Now," Ethan ground out as he gently laid the fire starter on the bed and doused the flames with magic. "We have a bit of a problem on our hands."

  Chapter 2

  The little boy was precious to his parents and ohhhh so very smart. So smart he tended to get his way without his overprotective parents even knowing what happened…If this has occurred at your house, try a time out. When that fails (and believe us, it will) bring in back up.

  "So are they're all coming?" Ethan asked warily. He ran his hands through his thick blond hair as he paced his office in agitation.

  "I think so." I muttered as I paced right behind him, nervously touching each piece of furniture and priceless knickknack I passed. "Have they ever all been in a room together?"

  "Yes."

  "Well then, how bad can this be?" I gripped Ethan's hand in excited relief. If they'd done it before this would be a piece of cake.

  "It was in 79 AD," he said as he waited for my reaction with raised eyebrows.

  "Is that supposed to be significant to me?" I demanded with a pit the size of a bowling ball growing rapidly in my stomach. "I skipped ancient freakin' history in high school to window shop and I majored in art in college."

  Ethan slowly sat down on the couch with an expression I couldn't decipher. This was either going to be hilarious or nauseating.

  "There was a picnic in Pompeii…"

  "Fuck." Not even remotely funny.

  "Exactly. Of course I wasn't there, but the story is quite colorful. Your uncles, God and Satan, got in a fistfight over Eve who was still with Adam at that point. No one liked the cake Mother Nature brought. Your grandfather didn't realize Mother Nature—his wife—would be there and brought a few girlfriends. The Seven Deadly Sins were PMSing. The Angels of Light and Death were determined to kill each other. However, your Cousin Jesus and The Kev simply watched. So there you have the truth behind the destruction of Pompeii," Ethan explained logically as he shuddered.

  "Mount Vesuvius had nothing to do with it?" I choked out. The bowling ball was now lodged in my esophagus.

  "That was just a cover," he replied.

  "Fuckityfuckfuckshitballsfuck. Why can't I have a normal family?" I shouted.

  This was bad. We didn't even live in the vicinity of a volcano if we needed to cover up any mass destruction. We were in Kentucky. We didn't have a conveniently exploding mountain nearby. This was such a clusterfuck waiting to happen. Maybe I would talk to them individually…or have the meeting in Purgatory. No one would miss Purgatory if it blew up. It was boring and smelled funky.

  "Astrid, your family is normal—considering."

  "Considering what?"

  "Considering they're all immortal and certifiably insane."

  "Not helping," I muttered. "Wait." I jerked to a halt as my ass started buzzing. Why in the Hell was my ass buzzing? "Oh my Hades," I shrieked. "My butt is vibrating."

  "Your phone is in your pocket," Ethan informed me as he did his best not to laugh.

  "I knew that," I hissed as I yanked it out, practically removing the pocket of my cute Prada jeans in case he was wrong and it was a bomb. "I have a text."

  I quickly scanned the message and squealed with joy.

  "We're not going to be homeless and Kentucky will not be wiped off the map of the United States. God and Jesus can't make it and the Seven Deadly Sins won't be here either. They have to do community service on a chain gang in Oklahoma for something to do with streaking and money laundering—like that makes any sense."

  I rolled my eyes and dropped down on the leather couch in relief.

  "Nothing your cousins do make sense. However, at the moment I'm quite grateful for that," Ethan said as he stood and gently covered a sleeping Samuel who was oblivious to the impending drama. We had placed cribs in every room in the compound. It was crazy, but wildly convenient.

  "It seemed like such a good idea—now I'm not so sure," I whispered as I leaned into the crib and sniffed my son's curls. He smelled like sunshine and wind—he was perfect.

  "Normally I'd agree with you, but after our boy conjured up a zoo in the foyer complete with elephants, lions, and wild boar…I'm thinking we need to lay down a few laws."

  That had been a fucking bloodbath.

  "Not to mention the five alarm fire he set in the nursery or the puppet show of thirty stuffed animals that he brought to life," I added as I pressed my fingers to the bridge of my nose to ward off the memory of having to kill the stuffed teddy bears and blue giraffes that were trying to escape the house and terrorize the human world.

  "Yes, there is that," Ethan said as he stared at the holes in the ceiling that the stuffed dragons had made before we snuffed them out. "So tomorrow is the big day?"

  "Yep. Tomorrow at noon."

  "We're going out," Ethan announced in his I'm the boss of everyone tone.

  "No, we're not," I snapped. "It might not be my entire family in attendance tomorrow, but we still can't guarantee we'll have a standing house after the get together. I think we should stay in, play with the baby, and make sure he doesn't conjure up a Demon from the Basement of Hell or something worse. Besides, we don't have a babysitter."

  My beautiful mate shook his head in frustrat
ion. "We have enough babysitters to make the Guinness Book of World Records. You just have to pick one."

  "And how exactly am I supposed to do that? We could very likely come home to our child speaking in tongues or making the Sailors Hall of Fame for filthy fucking language."

  Ethan's eyebrow shot up and I swear it touched his hairline.