Harem Scareum

Sure, the people in town talked. A lot. They whispered impolite things behind her back, they threw rotten eggs at the windows; they refused to sell her bolts of succulent red damask velvet, calling it "the fabric of Belial." But Heather didn't care. It had been her dream since childhood to open her own bordello, and ain't no one out there could stand in the way of her goals! Ain't nobody ain't no how!