Story cover for The Surrogacy by its_ya_girl_Carol
The Surrogacy
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    Reads 59
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    Parts 4
  • WpHistory
    Time 49m
  • WpView
    Reads 59
  • WpVote
    Votes 0
  • WpPart
    Parts 4
  • WpHistory
    Time 49m
Ongoing, First published Jun 18, 2020
Reece Reynolds is barely twenty-six, but she has lived a life fuller than most of those that are twice her age. During her younger years, she faced hardships that most couldn't even imagine. So in order for her to go to the places she wanted to, she made a decision that would provide her the security she needed to get through law school and raise her younger brother, Beckham. Years had passed since the days of her life that were full of uncertainty, and she had finally achieved the sense of normality that she had always craved. 

That was until Beau Sheffield entered the picture, with a request that she hadn't fulfilled in years. Beau was in search of more than he had been able to obtain by any fling or hookup in the past, so when the subject of a child had broached him the thought brought him joy. The only obstacle he faced, was that there was no woman in his life that he found fitting enough to produce his child. Almost like a message from God, himself, a surrogacy matcher produced the connection a woman that she felt would be his best option. 

As Beau and Reece embark on a journey to locate a woman who can provide a hope and love neither had ever experienced, will they be able to part ways once the request is filled or could they find the missing piece in their lives in each other?
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In agony I deliver the children of faceless, infertile clients. To them I am nothing more than a vessel, bearing the fruit they so wish to carry within themselves. They love me for my ability, and they hate me for it. This is why I am hidden away here in the Factory where they cannot see my rounded stomach, swollen with their life. When the life inside me is gone, birthed into their eagerly-waiting arms, I will be left with nothing. I will be impregnated again, and again, until my body is ruined and I am sent away. I should question this system, this ritualistic rending of my heart, but I do not-in fact, I volunteered for this job. And now, six babies later, I am afraid to leave. It is better to carry life, even temporarily, than to have never carried it at all.