Twins for the Wild Orc

Twins For The Wild Orc

Sweet Monsters Treats

Michele Mills

Copyright © 2023 by Michele Mills

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Cover Artist: Mariah Sinclair

Editor: Aquila Editing

Created with Vellum

Contents

Twins For The Wild Orc

1. Drew

2. Drew

3. Drew

4. Whelan

5. Drew

6. Whelan

7. Whelan

8. Drew

9. Drew

10. Whelan

Epilogue

Twins For The Wild Orc

A drunken, one-night stand with a wild Orc turns into a life-long commitment.

Because I’ve given birth to his twin babies. And now I can’t find the green, horned father of my children, which is really my own fault. He came on strong, calling me his “Bride” and I got scared at the idea of marrying a ferocious Orc. After he passed out next to me, snoring loudly (because he’d finished for the seventeenth time) I slipped out of the hotel bed and sprinted off into the night.

A year later, our babies are three months old and it’s nearly impossible, caring for the needs of Orc twins all on my own.

My babies need their daddy. And maybe…I need him too?

After hiring a private investigator, I’ve found the exact commune he lives on in the wilds of Maine.

And I’m bringing him two sweet treats for Halloween—his twin sons.

Sweet Monster Treats

Twins for the Wild Orc is a sweet and steamy monster romance that is part of the Sweet Monster Treats collection. Each book is a standalone, containing its own Happily Ever After, and they can be read in any order. Be sure to explore the other titles in the collection:

Cookies for my Orc Neighbor by Michele Mills

Candy For My Orc Boss by Ava Ross

Cupcakes For My Orc Enemy by Honey Phillips

The Single Mom and the Orc by Honey Phillips

Single Dad Orc by Ava Ross

Chapter 1

Drew

Both my precious orc babies are asleep in the backseat of my brand-new SUV.

I’ve never in my life found it necessary to own a car so freaking huge and rugged, but driving through northern Maine in chilly October, to meet up with the twisty-horned Wild Orc who knocked me up a little over a year ago, has convinced me to purchase something different.

Halloween is three days away and I’m on my way to visit (and hopefully move into) an Orc Commune that I think is entirely off the grid. Therefore, I’ve got a shit ton of luggage and baby paraphernalia squeezed into the back of the car and I’m certain all of it will be highly necessary.

White pines, maple trees and lush green mountainous countryside zip past on either side. This newfound quiet with both twins dozing off behind me feels like a massive lottery win. My tires finally crunch through the leaf-swept roads in peace.

Both of my three-month-old babies, Bran and Owen, each spat out their pacifiers earlier in the drive, wailing loudly, with nowhere for me to pull over to try and calm them. I’d made sure to stop at the last bit of civilization to feed and change both babies to keep them comfortable before progressing farther up the narrow roads, but to no avail. I about had a panic attack at their constant crying, tearful from my own frustration. But now I can see through the rearview mirror that my fussy twins are finally asleep, their little chests rising and falling.

Oh, babies.

I love them desperately—their small black starter horns, soft green skin and dark eyes cause my heart to melt—but I’m also grateful they’re out for the duration of this trip. This cease-fire is what I need so I can focus and get us to our destination—and this is what they need too. Now I can finish the rest of this long-ass drive ahead of me. Because I’m on a mission to reunite my babies with their long-lost daddy, and nothing is going to stop me from accomplishing this task.

Because my babies are a blessing and I’ve come to the realization that they need their orc daddy.

And I need him too.

The moment I discovered I was pregnant with not one but two orc sons, I was all-in. Strangely, I wasn’t scared, just happy and elated. Yes, it was nerve-wracking to discover at twenty-nine years old I was going to instantly become a single mom, especially since I’d always envisioned marriage and raising children with an eventual husband in the picture. But it didn’t work out that way, and since I was financially stable, I wasn’t horribly concerned about the ramifications.

I’ve got this I wrote constantly on post-it notes taped onto my fridge, bathroom mirror, and wall calendar.

And I did, at least at first.

The pregnancy and delivery of the twins turned out to be the easy part. I cradled them both in my arms in the hospital bed, their pudgy tummies causing my heart to skip a beat with love and devotion. I wanted to nibble on their little arms and kiss their delicate hands twenty times a day.

Like I said, a blessing.

But as soon as they came home, the honeymoon ended and the hard work began. My best friend Amelia flew across the country to stay with me the whole first week after I brought my babies home, which was super sweet of her. But the babies were a handful for the both of us and not just because there were two of them. The twins wanted only me, and I wasn’t enough to keep them happy.

The live-in Nanny who arrived when Amelia left tried to help but the babies rejected her too, which was bizarro considering she was wonderful. Bran and Owen are often restless and want only to be fed directly from my breast. Bottles simply won’t do. They prefer my arms holding them and no one else. Nothing much seems to comfort them. I fall asleep each night with the both of them in my arms, and even then, their sleep is fitful.

I haven’t published a thing, written a single word, or even checked social media, since the moment I went into labor. I’m lucky if I can get a shower. My life has been a roller coaster of feeding babies, changing diapers and trying to eat and sleep.

I kept trying to tell myself it would all get better with time, but I sense irritability and unhappiness from Bran and Owen that isn’t normal. I know this isn’t the way my boys naturally behave, but I have no proof. Just a mother’s instinct. My pediatrician and my lactation nurse in southern California are sympathetic but neither of them understand orc development and think a single woman raising orc twins without their orc father nearby is a never-before-seen oddity. They’ve literally asked to use me as a case study.

Ugh.