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eBook Category: Erotica/Paranormal Erotica/Dark Fantasy
eBook Description: Fertility specialist Dr. Adam Brenton enjoys a one hundred percent success rate. Though his methods are both highly unconventional and completely illegal, Brenton has no shortage of happy clients. However, none of the not-so-good doctor's treatments can impregnate Michelle Archer. He has to find out what he's doing wrong; there's a reputation at stake, not to mention a few souls. Dr. Brenton is--literally--the gynecologist from Hell. [Strong Sexual Content]

eBook Publisher: Fictionwise.com, Published: Aberrations, ed. Richard Blair, 1994
Fictionwise Release Date: February 2002

274 Reader Ratings:

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Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: eReader (PDB) [29 KB] , ePub (EPUB) [26 KB] , Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [15 KB] , Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [68 KB] , Palm Doc (PDB) [15 KB] , Microsoft Reader (LIT) [51 KB] , Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [87 KB] , hiebook (KML) [69 KB] , Sony Reader (LRF) [43 KB] , iSilo (PDB) [13 KB] , Mobipocket (PRC) [16 KB] , Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [44 KB] , OEBFF Format (IMP) [25 KB]
Words: 4367
Reading time: 12-17 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

The waiting room was empty of people and totally, beigely nondescript, filled with out-of-style furniture and months-old women's magazines.

She glanced once, hesitantly, at the business card she held.

Dr. Adam Brenton, it read. Fertility Specialist.

"May I help you?" came a voice from behind the small glass reception window, startling her and causing her to drop the card.

"Yes," she stammered, bending to retrieve it. "I'm Michelle Archer. I have an appointment."

Dropping the card into her purse, she walked to the window. The nurse sitting behind the glass flashed Michelle a pleasant smile before punching information into a small computer on her desk.

"If you'll just fill out these forms, the doctor will be right with you. Oh, and can I have a copy of your insurance card?" she asked, smiling again.

The clipboard held a bewildering array of brightly colored forms, some in duplicate or triplicate, others single sheets of loose paper. She attempted to read through the forms, but realized that it would be futile. There was just too many and just too much fine print.

It took her about 20 minutes to complete the forms, and she took the clipboard back to the window and returned it to the smiling receptionist.

For 20 more minutes, she fidgeted, listened to the mostly annoying soft rock music played in the office, idly glanced through the magazines. Not one other patient showed up during that time.

Without warning, the door opened, and the nurse motioned her into the office. She guided Michelle into an exam room and reminded her to take off all her clothing and put on the paper gown. Michelle nodded; she knew the routine.

She was barely into the gown when there was a knock at the door. Not waiting for a response, the door was thrust open with force, and Michelle jumped, gathering the paper around her body.

"Mrs. Archer," said the rather large man that entered the room. "I'm Dr. Brenton. Pleased to meet you."

He thrust a hand the size of a canned ham at her, and she reached out and took it. The doctor was tall and broad, an imposing figure in a white lab coat. His face was young looking, smooth and tanned, and totally ignorant of his age. His bright, off-putting blue eyes were half-framed by a pair of thin reading glasses perched low on his nose.

His style, his sun-bleached hair and his slightly too-red tan gave him the rakish look of a burnt-out cruise ship doctor.

"Now," he said, snapping on his rubber gloves and drawing the instrument table closer to him. "Your doctor forwarded your files, but let's take a look for ourselves, shall we?"