Why Do CatNap And DogDay Fight In Poppy Playtime?

Mature Content Warning. This book is made mainly for adults. It contains explicit sex scene, Affair partner (cheating), strong languages, and Every other mature themes. You're welcome to read at your pleasure 😜😜😜 Poppy's Secret Confession {Steamy Diary} brings you the full confession of a married woman's raw, unapologetic *true-life woven into fantasy* erotic stories where all her fantasies weren't just fantasies that she imagined, she lived them. leaving behind tension and embracing, exploring and allowing pleasure to take over. These stories are fast, hot, messy with a twist in most erotic way.

In this lifetime, Lyana Coiningan, the widow, laments about how envious she is about my bedroom by telling Alpha Theron Ulrick, "Luna Astra's bedroom is so huge and beautiful! If Dexter could stay here, he'd definitely forget all about the sorrow caused by his father's death…" While Theron is still hesitant about giving my bedroom away, I've already taken the initiative to pack up my things and give it to Lyana. On the coldest day of winter, Lyana's son, Dexter Ulrick, suddenly wails and complains about how cold the weather is. He then demands to have my son, Cayden Ulrick's fur cloak. Cayden doesn't hesitate to take off the cloak and give it to him. Everyone in the Silverfrost pack says, "Luna Astra is the embodiment of the Moon Goddess. She knows when to let others have all the good things. On top of that, she doesn't fight over anything with anyone else. Even her son is as understanding and demure as she is." Theron compliments us on how understanding we've become as well. But what they don't know is that I've already bought flight tickets in preparation to leave the Silverfrost pack. Once I get my hands on the mate bond dissolution potion, I'll be able to take Cayden to a land far, far away from this place. In my previous life, Theron had neglected Cayden and me forever because of Lyana and Dexter. He even passed his assets to them after his death. Now that we get a second chance in the same lifetime, both Cayden and I don't want to have anything to do with Theron anymore.

She is a young and beautiful werewolf. When the man hell-bent on possessing her and her best friend, and both of them kidnapped, they become unwillingly participants in a games of life. Partners fight to the death with their bare hands. If they refuse, they will die.

When the zombie apocalypse hit, pets leveled up into guardians. Three per person. That was the cap. My buddy dropped serious cash on three Caucasian Shepherds. My landlord dumped his fish and started raising crocodiles. My girlfriend bolted to the zoo and came back with a lion. Me? I had three strays. Bubba—blind. Missy—lame. Snowy—barely a month old. The second the system locked pet slots, I knew I was screwed. I barricaded myself inside with my three "broken" cats and kept my head down. Day one—fear. Day two—helpless. Day three—the cats strolled back in, tails up, dragging something I didn't recognize. Bubba looked at me. "Dad, I bit off every zombie head on the block. I'm solid, right?" I just stared.

Gina and I were just ordinary werewolves in the Silver Claw Pack. Our incomes were modest, but we married well. Her mate was the captain of the Silver Claw Pack patrol unit. Mine, the fire squad leader. They grew up together—childhood friends—and were the youngest golden duo in the Werewolf Alliance. On the day we married, our mates each bought us a luxury high-rise apartment on the top floor of the central castle, side by side, with the promise of sharing life and death together. That is, until that fateful night. Rogues broke into the central zone. Chaos reached even the upper levels of our building. The tower caught fire. Amidst the thick smoke, I sent a desperate mind-link to my mate. He blocked it. Turns out, both our mates were busy shielding their shared first love, Lifu. They ignored our calls for help. Gina dragged me as we ran. She was six months pregnant; her pup was already kicking from the panic. Her mate never showed up either. We made it to the stairwell, where we were trapped for five hours. Toxic fumes filled our lungs. I went into labor too early. My pup didn't make it. Gina bled for three days in the hospital. Her pup was gone too. Meanwhile, our mates were digging through the wreckage—twenty-four hours straight—searching for Lifu's lost dog. That was it. Right then and there, Gina and I looked at each other and knew. We were done.

After I get pregnant with my second child, all the pets in my household start viewing me as their biggest enemy. The tabby cat who once loved clinging to me now poops in my nutritious meals every day. The parrot who only knows how to repeat "hello" begins cursing at me to suffer from a miscarriage. "Die, Leanne Foster!" When I feed the goldfish, they protest against my efforts by quitting food entirely. The next day, they are all dead. Even the terrier I've kept with me for ten years lunges at me like a mad bitch the moment she sees the baby clothes in my hands. After I almost suffer from a miscarriage, I plan on giving the pets away. But my daughter, Harper Steele, hugs the terrier and the cat as she pleads to me sadly, "Mommy, please don't give them away!" My husband, Adam Steele, is worried about my unborn baby, but he also doesn't want to hurt Harper's feelings. In the end, he comes up with a compromising solution. "Honey, there's still one month left till your due date. Just endure the pets for a month, okay? I'll lock them up in their crates and make sure that you're safe." Eventually, I agree to that solution after giving it some thought. But unexpectedly, on the day my water breaks, as soon as I dial Adam's number, the pets rush out of their crates simultaneously and begin tearing at my stomach with their claws and fangs. In the end, I close my eyes weakly from the sheer pain. I can never understand why my pets hate the unborn baby in my womb that much. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day I find out I'm pregnant with my second child.