Sisterwives for the orc

This is Jumanji meets Elder Scrolls meets medieval romance with a blacksmith Orc. Basically a fantasy union for the ages. It’d be downright perfect… Except for the fact that my new husband comes with a side of three other wives.

I spend five bucks to play an old arcade game that promises adventurers a chance to choose their very own epic romance.

I’m transported to another reality. A realm where three Orc women inform me that I’ve been added to their family, and I’m about to marry their husband.

That’s right. They share a husband. These Orcs think I’m about to become their sisterwife. Obviously, I have to escape them. There’s absolutely no way anyone could be happy living like this forever… right?

Note: This is a 78K story that tells the tale of a woman trapped in a wild game reality like Jumanji (and a bit like Zoltar from Big). Romance readers (and ’90s-era gamers and Skyrim fans) will find little easter eggs here and there!

EXCERPT:

“Here’s the thing. I’m like the most monogamous person ever—and I expect the man I’m with to be the same. Monogamous. So your husband already being married?” I transfer my stare to each one of the trio in a very pointed fashion. “This is a huge problem for me.”

“You’ve come with no money, I expect?”

My credit card should still be in my pocket, but it’s less than useless here. I shake my head, feeling sick.

She shrugs sadly. “You might get some coin for your jewelry, but not enough to survive on.” She eyes me up and down. “You’ll end up selling yourself, unless you are skilled in a trade and can sell other services?”

Dread filling my insides like icy cold water, I shake my head again.

She gives me a gentle smile. “Then our house is not only your most decent option, it’s also simply a good option. Roarg will treat you very well. You’ll see. Give him a chance.”

Panting, I sputter, “B-but I—”

Ulda has had enough though. Looking no sweeter even though she’s rocking a sleeping baby on her shoulder, she points to a set of stairs flanked by freaking tree trunks. Beside the stairs is a door. “Go. Take off those otherlander clothes. You will bathe—”

“But I don’t want to marry your husband!” I cry.

Ulda sighs like I’m being a real pain—and she cuffs me on the ear, again, too fast for me to duck or block, making me howl. “You will wash. You will get dressed in something fine. And then you will climb in his bed and excite Roarg with your strangeness and you will please yourselves until morning. Do I make myself clear?”