Fifty Shades Of Sparkling Vampires With Dragon Tattoos That Play Starvation Games by Lacy Maran

have made four
million bucks. So instead the board would have to start popping
pills of their own as their stock took a nose dive.
    Anywhere else and a two million dollar
profit would be a wet dream. But instead, welcome to Wall Street,
where no profit was big enough, no job couldn't be outsourced, and
no penny couldn't be pinched all in the name of making
millionaire's into billionaire's. The suits wanted their sports
cars. They wanted their foie gras. They wanted to buy their own
private golf courses. And Philip had come between that.
    So when the Zombie Security Guards and
Janitors started pounding on the glass to the conference room, it
was almost a relief to Philip. The math finally added up. Forty
brain hungry Zombies versus twelve overpaid blowhards meant good
eating for the undead. And what a last supper it would
be.
    Philip wouldn't be spared from the
carnage, becoming an appetizer himself. But Philip watched his
bosses get eaten with a smile on his face. After all, the
Pharmaceutical Companies stock may not have shot up, but they sure
knew how to make good sleeping pills. So Philip popped a pill and
closed his eyes, before the Zombies ripped them out of their
sockets.
    Newport Beach
    Carlton Stoddard knew just how good
sleeping pills were. The CEO slept like a baby. Then again, it
didn't hurt that he'd gone to bed in a thousand dollar a night
villa. As the East Coast had been ravaged by suicidal stocks and a
zoo of Zombies, Carlton and his West Coast cohorts were just waking
up to their corporate retreat on the Newport Coast. With the way
those fat cats were living it up, you'd hardly know they were in
the middle of a recession.
    Don't tell that to the ten thousand
warehouse workers the company just laid off. Or the Chinese
laborers working in human rights violating conditions so the
company could make obscenely cheap smart phones. The sales managers
for the Wireless Mobile Conglomerate worked damn hard and deserved
corporate spa packages. A Swedish massage with just a little extra
at the end. A room with a complimentary five hundred dollar bottle
of wine. A filet at dinner that cost more per ounce than most
American families weekly food bill. All on the company dime of
course.
    And for Carlton, it was just the break
he'd been looking for. It had been tough for him, having been fired
from his last CEO job and forced to settle for a ten million dollar
buyout. He was hoping his severance would be more like fifteen. But
incompetence had never paid so well. Carlton bounced back from his
unemployed days toiling on his yacht, landing the CEO position at
Wireless Mobile Corporation. Although at thirty million a year, he
did feel a bit underpaid. After all, it didn't seem worth getting
out of bed in the morning for less than twenty-five mil.
    It was poised to be an exhausting day
of relaxation for Carlton. A light two hour massage. Round of golf
on the coast. And finally an awards banquet where his sales
managers told him how great he was. All in a days work
though.
    The last thing Carlton expected was a
toothy surprise at his door. As a matter of fact, when he heard a
tap, Carlton thought the escort he'd ordered had finally arrived to
ride his dick into the sunset. But instead it was housekeeping,
eager to do some Spring Cleaning with his sternum.
    Marge the Maid lunged at Carlton as he
opened the door. Carlton was completely blindsided by the Zombie
Maid. And before he knew it, Carlton was on the ground, mounted by
a brain-thirsty servant. It had been a long time since the CEO had
been mounted by a woman he didn't have to pay. Although it wasn't
the first time a woman wanted to tear Carlton to shreds. But it
appeared Marge the Maid would succeed where so many other angry
women had failed.
    Marge opened her mouth wide, her
chompers ready to take a bite out of the bigwig. But Carlton didn't
get to be the CEO of a company without leaving a trail of blood in
his wake. The CEO fought back, pushing Marge off of him and into
the