“My With Me In Seattle series is one of the most beloved series that I write. So when I created Lady Boss Press and these authors came to me and wanted to write their own stories within that universe, I was honored and thrilled! I think you’ll enjoy each of these sexy, contemporary romances, each linking in some way to my world. Get ready to fall in love all over again!” —New York Times Bestselling Author Kristen Proby
Eight all-new standalone stories set in Kristen Proby’s With Me In Seattle Universe are out this week and I am so excited to share with you little snippets from them all.
“I’m making a schedule. We’ve been on this bus for twenty-four hours, and it’s already a pigsty. I don’t even want to know who was last in the bathroom, but it’s disgusting. I have to live here alongside all of you. We’re going to install some discipline and well…health and safety.”
“Schedule?” I question, and stepping forward, I stand to the right of her, peering over her shoulder.
She has indeed developed a schedule. To be more precise, she’s written a long list of daily chores with our names beside each of them. It’s decorated in lots of different colors and adorned with motivational stickers. When I look down at the table, I see even more colored stickers and tapes as well as a journal sitting open, embellished to within an inch of its life.
“Er, don’t we have people to come and clean up after us?” Liam scratches his head.
“You do, but there’s no reason we need to live like slobs. It only takes a few minutes to pick up dirty clothes or wash some dishes. I may be a woman, but I’m not going to be doing the bulk of the chores. I have to work as well. I know it’s not as exciting as going out on stage, but it’s still important for your future. I don’t have the time to look after you all like a mother hen.”
Zoey puts Liam in his place and finishes coloring in a red square with my name on it. It informs me that this morning I need to ensure the main bedroom is clean for the next person sleeping in it.
I reach over and pick the schedule up to examine it.
“I’m not cleaning any toilets,” I inform her and press my finger onto the red square that has me doing just that tomorrow morning.
“It’ll take two seconds. All you have to do is ensure it’s flushed and the bowl is clean. There is a spray next to the toilet. You just have to give it a quick squirt.”
“I’m not cleaning any toilets,” I repeat and drop the schedule in front of Zoey.
She lets out a frustrated sigh and places her head in her hands.
“Please, I’m not asking you all to wear rubber gloves and give the bus a deep clean every day. I’m just asking for basic cleanliness to be checked to make it comfortable for everyone in here. It’s about decency and showing care for the other people around you. I know it probably doesn’t bother you all to wake up and be faced with empty bottles, used condoms, and dirty underwear of both the male and female variety on the floor in the morning, but it made me feel”—she gulps a deep breath—“uncomfortable. I’m sorry if it makes me sound like a prude, but I just wanted you to know, and I thought this would help.”