Good Adventure Books

Sometimes being outnumbered is a good thing--a very good thing! Harper When I signed up for an app that let me make some extra cash attending events with single men, I had no idea it would lead me to fall in love--four times! Scott is a caring organic farmer with muscles like no other. Damien is one of the richest men in the world who knows how to spoil me. Rafe is a famous quarterback who always hits me in the right spot. And then there's Tomas, my former professor turned Latin lover. It's scary dating four men, but they don't mind. In fact, they like how happy I am this way. Jack, however, my ex, is not exactly happy to find out my new situation. He'll stop at nothing to have me as his own--and share me with no one. When he goes too far, will my men be able to save me? If you love steamy reverse harem books, this new series from the author of Realm of the Chosen and Ember's Flames is perfect for you. Why choose if you don't have to?

After a car crash, I wake up without a scratch, but my girlfriend, Elena Reed, has amnesia. What shocks me the most is that I can hear my late grandma's voice in my head. "That shameless woman is feigning amnesia to trick Rowan! If I were still alive, I'd break her legs myself!" My eyes fly wide in disbelief. Grandma's voice keeps raging in my head. "Rowan, in your past life, Elena ruined you. You had miserable years with her and nearly died of a heart attack while she was out celebrating Miles' birthday! "Your grandpa is about to have you choose a bride. Don't pick Elena. Pick Piper. She's a good woman!" A second later, Grandpa and the elders walk into the hospital room and spread out photos of heiresses from the four great families, asking me to choose a bride. I don't even hesitate. I choose Piper Alden, the one I've been butting heads with for as long as I can remember. I've always listened to Grandma. If she says that Elena doesn't love me, then I don't want her anymore.

On the day we receive our bonus, one of the staff members of the finance department gives me 500 dollars worth of vouchers for the fast food restaurant downstairs. He tells me that my wife, Jillian Dunn, who is also the company's president, specifically ordered him to do so. In utter disbelief, I seek out Jillian and question her. "Didn't we agree that whoever secures the project will get a 50,000-dollar bonus? Stop messing around! I still need to pay for Freya's cochlear implant!" "I'm not messing around with you," Jillian answers seriously. "These vouchers can last you for a whole month. I wouldn't even give them to you if you were anyone else. "Money is tight right now at the company. Besides, Freya has been deaf for more than a decade now. She can survive being deaf for another decade." The next day, Jillian gives one of the interns a sports car that's worth 50,000 dollars. I look at the photo she uploads of her and the intern grinning widely as they sit in the car and give it a like. Jillian must assume that everything is proceeding smoothly since she has signed the contract. However, she misses the additional condition that's printed on the last page of the contract. I dial her rival's number, asking, "Ms. Swan, are you interested in Project Charlie?"

My son was caught in a car accident. My husband said that without a cornea donor, he would be trapped in darkness forever. Heartbroken, I let him sweet-talk me into signing away my corneas. Blind, I overheard my son gloating, "Dad, the plan worked. Mom fell for it, and Rachel's got her sight back. She won't be miserable anymore." "Yeah, now we're a real family with her," replied my husband. The truth gutted me. They'd played me like a fool to save my husband's old flame. When I confronted them, Rachel Huffman shoved me down a staircase, and I died in agony. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of my son's car accident.

On the company's designated monthly day off, Gigi Lott, Donald Hoover's secretary, posted an Instagram story. The caption read, "So what if you're the boss of me when we're at work during the day? At night, I'm the one on top!" In the photo, she was lying atop a water bed covered in rose petals, and the usually stern Donald was kneeling down to massage her feet for her. From his pocket hung a brand new golden necklace. Just that morning, I bought several gold bars and gave them to Donald while beseeching him to make our relationship public. He happily took the locket from me, but when I tried to take a photo of us with our phone, he smacked my phone out of my hands, smashing it into pieces. With a look of pure derision, he declared, "Why don't you take a good look at yourself in the mirror first? You really are a motherless wretch who wasn't raised right. Look at the lengths you'd go to just to ruin me!" Throughout the last five years, I had meekly gone along with his demand that we keep our relationship a secret, claiming it was because office romances were forbidden. But now, I was abruptly hit with the realization of how laughable it all was. The next day, I sent my father a message. "I admit defeat. I'm willing to come home and inherit the family business."

My boss had a new boyfriend called Eugene Larson. The first day he came to the office, he put on a great show of exerting his dominance. He deleted my number from my boss's phone right in front of me. Eugene waved his phone in front of me while playing innocently. "You can talk to me about anything you need to communicate to Tina, Mr. Sanders. I'll help you pass the message to her. I don't have much sense of security, so please don't mind this. It's to avoid any misunderstanding between us." I was hoping my boss, Tina Kayden, would be able to say something fair on my behalf, but all she did was stare at Eugene approvingly and adoringly throughout the conversation. She turned to me and said, "This is a pretty good plan, Mr. Sanders. Do take good care of Eugene from now on." As there was no way for me to reject her, I was forced to add Eugene's contact to my phone. However, the moment he had my number, he flooded my phone with messages. [Mr. Sanders, is the client you're meeting tomorrow with the surname Charleston a man or a woman?] [Where are you having the meeting tomorrow? Wear something casual tomorrow. It would be best if you avoid washing your face and hair. Otherwise, I would think you're trying to seduce my wife.] [I believe your relationship with Tina is innocent. You're not allowed to betray me because I'm treating you like my buddy!] [By the way, you have an extra duty from now on. You need to remind Tina every 30 minutes to send me a message telling me that she loves me.] As I read these ridiculous messages, I laughed in anger. I put my phone on silent mode and flung it to the side before going to bed. The next morning, I woke up to dozens of missed calls on my phone.

I went into labor at the same time as the woman next door. My husband took me to the hospital, but I delivered a stillborn child. Instead of comforting me, he lashed out, "Did you mess around while you were pregnant? Is that why you gave birth to such a monster?" I lost my baby, my name was dragged through the mud, and I was forced to divorce him and leave with nothing. One day, I happened to overhear my husband speaking to the neighbor: "Good thing we swapped your stillborn baby with May's healthy one. If your in‑laws had looked closely, they would have realized the dead baby was actually ours." That was when I finally understood the truth. They had been involved long before. He pushed me on purpose, causing premature labor, just so they could take my healthy baby and give me her dead one. When I confronted them, they held me down in the bathtub and drowned me. Yet when I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day I went into early labor. This time, I'll make sure she gives birth to that stillborn child. This time, I will expose them both for their affair and for what they did to me.

The day my mother-in-law discovered she had uterine cancer, she packed up and moved in to our home. “I don’t have much time left. I’m all out of hope!” she choked out. “You’d be cruel to kick me out. Show me some mercy!” I looked at my speechless husband, then at my beloved son I had raised with so much love and care. I asked them, "What do you guys think?" My husband silently made a grim expression and grabbed my arm. “How long are you going to hold on to that little incident that happened after Everett was born? Mom's already so sick." My son echoed his sentiment, “Grandma doesn't have much time left. Of course we have to take good care of her!" I smiled at them and said, “Alright. You guys can take care of her if you love her so much."

I endured hundreds of injections just to give Stanley Brighton a child. He was moved to tears and held me, promising that even if we couldn't have children, he would love only me. I diligently followed the doctor's advice and underwent treatment. The day I confirmed my pregnancy, I was so excited that I wanted to rush home and share the good news with Stanley. But what awaited me was unimaginable. Stanley and the female tenant we shared the apartment with were lying naked together in the bathroom, sharing an intimate bath. He was behind her, holding her close, his lips incessantly biting at her earlobes. "I'll give you as many children as you want! Ten, eight—whatever it takes! Just divorce her!" "Alright, just give me some time. I'll divorce her for sure!" Hearing their whispered entanglement, I turned away, stepping into the rain, determined to leave. I would disappear to a place where Stanley could never find me, not in this lifetime.

My husband is a rock climbing route setter. It's our wedding anniversary today, but he brings his female best friend with him on an adventure to discover uncharted territory. It comes about because his female best friend says life is so boring. We're trapped in the mountains when we encounter extreme weather, and the rescue helicopter can only take two people with them. They climb up the ladder deftly, leaving me to slowly grow colder in the rain. I shout his name with all my strength. "I have a heart condition! I'll die if I don't get to the hospital soon!" He throws a rope down at me without even sparing me a glance. "Luna has menstrual cramps—she never says she's in pain. You, on the other hand, are only good at acting. Think of a way to get down yourself." What he doesn't know is that his "good friend" has already sliced the rope he threw to me.