Adina Falling (Threads of Fate) Read Online Free PDF Page A

I didn’t need financial security that would come from a marriage; I was perfectly suited to take care of myself. I really wasn’t completely certain that I wanted to be with the same person for all eternity because that’s a very long time in vampire years.
    Barbara York was a good mom; she was always happily waiting for me when I came home from school. She helped with my homework and was readily available with a shoulder to lean or cry on.
    When night time came, however, my mother would switch gears and she became a party girl. Our home opened up to a rowdy bunch of characters. She wasn’t discriminating either. Vampires, shifters, werewolves, it was a regular Halloween parade on any given night.
    Which meant, I had been exposed to things at a young age that most parents tried to shield their children from. Orgies were a constant theme. I witnessed a lot of sexual activity in my mother’s large living room. People fucking in every corner of the house. They weren’t allowed upstairs, that was the only rule. It was my mother’s way of protecting me. But, I still saw everything. And by everything, I mean everything.
    I believe that those experiences are what led me to be an erotic writer. I saw enough stuff growing up to give me material for a million books. I even started sneaking in to join the parties by the time I had turned 18. I was a very horny teenager. If my mom ever found out, she never mentioned it to me. But trust me; growing up with constant, in-your-face sex can produce two different types of people...a slut or a nun. I became somewhat of a slut, although I’d like to think of it more as research.
    Despite what it may sound like, I had a fairly happy childhood. My dad had never been around much so when he left; there was no gaping hole that needed to be filled. My mother, stuck forever at the age of 32, the age she was when my father had turned her, did the best she could with the coping and parenting skills she had. I think she did a decent job raising me because I never turned into some sort of juvenile delinquent. I was always on the Honor Roll and I graduated from University of Michigan with a Master’s Degree in Creative Writing.
    I had a couple of step-fathers that tried to fill an unnecessary role. Her first husband, Frank, was a nice guy. He was sort of boring to look at and was even more boring to be around. Those five years of marriage took place when I was in Middle School. I refer to those as the Beige-era. Our whole house was redecorated in boring beige along with dull accent pieces in dull variations of beige. The parties stopped happening, too. Even though Frank and my mom met during one of the orgies and he knew what he was getting into, he put his foot down once the marriage contract was signed.
    Life had become far too ordinary for my mom so around the fourth year of their marriage, she began to rebel. So after a couple of heated arguments, Frank took his stuff and left. Shortly after that, my mom redecorated the house in a Moroccan theme, colors were back and so were the parties.
    When I was a Junior in High School, my mom remarried again. This time, she hooked up with a werewolf named...get this...Harry. No kidding. He was insistent I was to call him Harold and no matter how many times he reprimanded me or complained, I couldn’t bring myself to call him anything other than Harry. All my friends did, too. Anyway, their marriage was a disaster from the get-go. He was an animal. I thought he was hot though, I used to have fantasies about him. Until shortly after they had gotten married, he started with his late night, uninvited visits to my room. I’m a fighter; I will defend myself when necessary or not rendered incapable. Harry bears permanent scars where no hair will ever grow back. A reminder of what can happen when he tries to have sex with someone who doesn’t want to have sex with him.
    After I got sick of the continuing late night visits from Harry, I confronted my mom who