Yes, I’m back with recaps of Fifty Shades Darker. See, I started reading the book and I got so irritated by it and there was no way to vent about it, so I decided to come back early. Oh, well, let’s get started, then, with the Acknowledgements and Prologue of Fifty Shades Darker.
Also HUGE thanks to Kathleen and Kristi who stepped into the breach and sorted stuff out.
It got so bad they drank on the job just to slog through this piece of shit.
Thank you too to Niall, my husband, my lover, and my best friend (most of the time).
Too bad she was having fantasies of Edward when you were hooking up.
And a big shout out to all the wonderful, wonderful women from all over the world whom I have had the pleasure of meeting since I started all this, and whom I now consider friends, including: Ale, Alex, Amy, Andrea, Angela, Azucena, Babs, Bee, Belinda, Betsy, Brandy, Britt, Caroline, Catherine, Dawn, Gwen, Hannah, Janet, Jen, Jenn, Jill, Kathy, Katie, Kellie, Kelly, Liz, Mandy, Margaret, Natalia, Nicole, Nora, Olga, Pam, Pauline, Raina, Raizie, Rajka, Rhian, Ruth, Steph, Susi, Tasha, Taylor and Una. And also to the many, many talented, funny, warm women (and men) I have met online. You know who you are.
And Edward and Bella and Jacob and gee…who am I missing? Oh yeah! “You know who you are” means Stephenie Meyer.
And finally, thank you to Janine, my editor. You rock. That is all.
Yes, thanks for working to turn this badly written fanfic with questionable themes into an international phenomenon that has only inspired other badly written fanfics with questionable themes. To the prologue!
He’s come back. Mommy’s asleep or she’s sick again.
I hide and curl up small under the table in the kitchen. Through my fingers I can see Mommy. She is asleep on the couch.
Are you playing hide-and-seek?
You are one fucked-up bitch. You are one fucked-up bitch. You are one fucked-up bitch. You are one fucked-up bitch. You are one fucked-up bitch. You are one fucked-up bitch.
Christian’s views on all women.
A chilling wail wakes him. Christ! He’s drenched in sweat and his heart is pounding. What the fuck? He sits bolt upright in bed and puts his head in hands. Fuck. They’re back. The noise was me. He takes a deep steadying breath, trying to rid his mind and nostrils of the smell of cheap bourbon and stale Camel cigarettes.
You may want to stop smoking altogether, Christian. Just for your own sake.
And I’m just getting started. Stay tuned for Chapter One!