Duty Bound
Featuring stories from Felicity Brandon,
Katie Douglas, Lily Harlem and Lucy Felthouse.
Buy
now or read free in KU (universal link): http://mybook.to/dutybound
Blurb:
When
their uniforms come off...
Bossy, dedicated, overprotective, super
complicated. A woman needs a man like that in her life like she needs a
temporal lobe headache, right? Think again, because when the uniforms come off
and the temperature skyrockets, it’s time to forget Hell and take a trip
straight to Heaven.
How about multiplying that by three, four,
or more? You get the picture? This set of panty-melting reverse harem stories
will have you gasping, panting, squirming and sweating. Read late into the
night with these steamy tales featuring priests, military men, S.W.A.T.
officers, gardeners, waiters, and more.
For a limited time only, grab your own
harem of hot men who are determined to be the best of the best, especially when
it comes to adoring their woman.
Buy
now or read free in KU (universal link): http://mybook.to/dutybound
Excerpt
from Chasing the Chambermaid by Lucy Felthouse:
Prologue
Only the slop, slop, slopping sound of her
painfully slow footsteps through the thick, sucking mud convinced Connie White
she was actually making any progress. Her limbs and extremities had long since
gone so numb that she couldn’t be sure otherwise.
Come on, Con, just a little bit further.
That sign said something about an estate, and an estate means buildings. A
bloody cowshed will do—anything for some respite from this infernal sodding
weather.
She pushed on for several more minutes, then
gasped with shock and relief when her next step met not with sloppy mud or
waterlogged grass, but a track. A rough track, but a track nonetheless. And it
had to lead somewhere, surely? It ran left to right across the line she’d been
taking, so Connie had to make a decision. Which way would lead her to…
something? She was already soaked to the skin and freezing cold, so a couple of
seconds of rumination wouldn’t make the slightest bit of difference to her
physical state. She really didn’t want to end up going in the wrong direction
and heading further away from any semblance of civilisation.
She took a breath and remembered her
gran’s—long since dead, bless her—nonsensical motto—or one of them, anyway: If
in doubt, turn left.
Connie shrugged, and another of her gran’s
daft phrases flitted into her brain. In for a penny, in for a pound.
She hoiked her backpack higher, hunched her
shoulders against the relentless wind and rain, and turned left. Moments later,
she was rewarded as the hulking shape of a building appeared from the sheets of
wind-buffeted rain. Excitement gave her a burst of energy, spurring her on.
Fifty feet. Forty. Twenty-five. God, what was this place? It looked so old and
decrepit the Vikings could have left it behind. Doesn’t matter. If it provides
even a modicum of shelter, it’s an improvement on where you slept last night.
The wooden bench on the tiny village’s green hadn’t exactly been the warmest or
most comfortable place to lay her head. And she shuddered to think about what
would have happened if someone unsavoury had happened across her, alone and
vulnerable. She’d been very glad to wake up and hurriedly continue on her
journey that morning.
The last few feet went by in a blur of
motion, her body still numb and not entirely under her control. At least the
track was easier to walk on. It wasn’t particularly smooth, but at least it
wasn’t trying to pull off her walking boots, like the sucking mud had been.
Finally, she burst through the building’s
heavy door, only the adrenaline pumping in her veins making it possible to even
shift the thing. Fuck, I’m exhausted.
The last thing she remembered was shucking
off her backpack and slamming the door against the elements. Then silence.
Buy
now or read free in KU (universal link): http://mybook.to/dutybound
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