<p><i>''It was the middle of November, I was supposed to be out jogging, but instead I was sitting at my breakfast table talking about men, sex, werewolves and vampires. I should be concentrating on my dangerous situation - the ardeur between me and Jean-Claude, Master Vampire of the City, and Richard, my werewolf lover, is reaching new levels, evolving into something altogether new, acting with a will of its own.''<br></i><br>But instead Anita Blake, preternatural expert and feared executioner, is less interested in vampire politics than in the ancient, ordinary dread that women down the ages have experienced: am I pregnant? And, if so, is the father a vampire, a werewolf or someone else entirely. <br><br>And being a Federal Marshall, known for raising the dead and hunting vampires, is no way to bring up a baby.</p>