RELEASE BOOST: Paradise Fought: Abel by L.B. Dunbar

 

 

Title: Paradise Fought: Abel
Series: Paradise #1
Author: L.B. Dunbar
Genre: Contemporary New Adult Romance/MMA
 Release Date: January 25, 2016
Blurb

 

I’m not a fighter.
I was born into a fighting family. As the middle child, I was overlooked in favor of my older brother.
He took the negative attention, too. In comparison, there’s nothing special about me.
I’m not as big as Cobra. I’m not as strong as Cobra. He’s the alpha.
I’m a beta.
The second son.
The lesser one.
The one never encouraged to fight, never encouraged to do anything, but stay out of my father’s way.
I’m not a lover either – but I wished to be – that’s why I needed her.
I met a girl in the pouring rain.
Sounds cliché, but it’s true. It changed everything.
Because of love, I learned to fight.Betas come second, but in this fight, my story is first.

Links to Buy
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Excerpt
If I thought I was going to make a speedy getaway, I was wrong. My savior caught up to me, half way down the walk, outside the finance building. He was quick and a large hand wrapped around my upper arm.“Whoa, sister,” he said, slightly out of breath. “You almost got away from me again.”

“What?” I questioned. I had no idea what he meant: again.

“Never mind,” he muttered, his hand still on me. I looked down at it and he immediately released me. My eyes pinched as I realized I didn’t mind his hand on my skin. There was something nonthreatening about him. He seemed rather innocent, studious, actually. His shirt was buttoned almost to the top and tucked into his pants. The sleeves secure at the cuffs. His jeans were snug and hugged him well. He wore dark rimmed glasses that screamed smart. Brown boots looked too new on his large feet. It was like he had the right parts but the wrong combination.

His blue eyes were soft and easy to look into. They practically spoke to me, but I had no idea what he was saying. His dark hair was disheveled, a bit shaggy, but cool looking. He kind of looked like a pop star, which was a little too sugar sweet for me. His form was questionable. It was hard to tell what kind of body he had under those clothes. He looked rather preppy, like half the guys at this university. I didn’t want to think about it. I’d just sold my soul for another semester.

“So when do you want to do this?” I asked. His blank stare told me he had no idea what I meant.

“Us,” I said, pointing between him and me.

“I…” His voice trailed off as he gawked at me. His expression changed from confusion to shock.

“I didn’t buy you to sleep with you,” he said, a touch of disbelief in his voice. His face turned crimson, then fell. “Why, have you done that before?” It was my turn to be surprised and offended.

I turned on my heels and began stomping away from him. He was too quick and he caught me again. His hand on my arm halted me. This time he didn’t release me when I peered down at his fingers wrapped around my bicep.

“Look. I need help,” he blurted. His face pinked a little, and it was sweet. “I don’t need help with sex. I need help with before.” His tone dropped, and he looked side to side to see if anyone would hear him. I took his meaning.

“You don’t know how to do foreplay?” I questioned in a loud whisper, trying to hide my astonishment. How could anyone have sex and not know a touch of foreplay?

His face pinked again.

“Not that,” he said, sounding like a child. “The flirting. The dating. The…other stuff.”

I was stunned. I stared at him, taking in his features again. He was kind of cute, leaning toward the potential for good looking. He couldn’t possibly need help with this request. The confusion on my face made him speak.

“I don’t know how to flirt.” The words swirled between us.

“I don’t understand.” I didn’t. I didn’t know what he wanted from me.

“I need lessons how to be…cool: with girls. Call it a tutoring session. I need to learn how to be…seen.” His voice took on a touch of sadness. He couldn’t possibly be serious. I continued to stare at him. My mouth might have actually dropped open a bit, and I noticed he was watching my lips. It was a little exciting the way he stared at them. I licked them and his pupils dilated, filling in more black over the blue. His expression changed. Knowingly, he blinked when he realized I was teasing him. His lip quirked up and a dimple showed in his cheek.

“I need to date you,” he blurted. “To learn how to do, what you just did to me.”

 

 

Author Bio

 

L.B. Dunbar loves the original legend of King Arthur. Inspired by this classic tale, she pulled over to the side of the road to take notes when it hit her that if King Arthur lived today, he’d be a rock star. A lover of fairy tales, myths, legends, and anything with happily ever after, she loves to read and write contemporary romance. Her Legendary Rock Stars series is complete with the final tale: The Trials of Guinevere DeGrance, but the story began with The Legend of Arturo King. She also wrote The Sensations Collection, which includes five stand alones based on the five senses in a small town setting near Lake Michigan. Raised on one side of that lake, she grew up in Michigan, but now lives on the other side, in Chicago. Mother to four, wife to the one and only, and teacher to hundreds of former students, she looks forward to sharing more stories in the future.

Author Links

NEW RELEASE: Paradise Fought (Abel) by L.B. Dunbar

 

 

Title: Paradise Fought: Abel
Series: Paradise #1
Author: L.B. Dunbar
Genre: Contemporary New Adult Romance/MMA
 Release Date: January 25, 2016

 

Blurb

 

I’m not a fighter.
I was born into a fighting family. As the middle child, I was overlooked in favor of my older brother.
He took the negative attention, too. In comparison, there’s nothing special about me.
I’m not as big as Cobra. I’m not as strong as Cobra. He’s the alpha.
I’m a beta.
The second son.
The lesser one.
The one never encouraged to fight, never encouraged to do anything, but stay out of my father’s way.
I’m not a lover either – but I wished to be – that’s why I needed her.
I met a girl in the pouring rain.
Sounds cliché, but it’s true. It changed everything.
Because of love, I learned to fight.Betas come second, but in this fight, my story is first.

Links to Buy
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Excerpt
If I thought I was going to make a speedy getaway, I was wrong. My savior caught up to me, half way down the walk, outside the finance building. He was quick and a large hand wrapped around my upper arm.“Whoa, sister,” he said, slightly out of breath. “You almost got away from me again.”

“What?” I questioned. I had no idea what he meant: again.

“Never mind,” he muttered, his hand still on me. I looked down at it and he immediately released me. My eyes pinched as I realized I didn’t mind his hand on my skin. There was something nonthreatening about him. He seemed rather innocent, studious, actually. His shirt was buttoned almost to the top and tucked into his pants. The sleeves secure at the cuffs. His jeans were snug and hugged him well. He wore dark rimmed glasses that screamed smart. Brown boots looked too new on his large feet. It was like he had the right parts but the wrong combination.

His blue eyes were soft and easy to look into. They practically spoke to me, but I had no idea what he was saying. His dark hair was disheveled, a bit shaggy, but cool looking. He kind of looked like a pop star, which was a little too sugar sweet for me. His form was questionable. It was hard to tell what kind of body he had under those clothes. He looked rather preppy, like half the guys at this university. I didn’t want to think about it. I’d just sold my soul for another semester.

“So when do you want to do this?” I asked. His blank stare told me he had no idea what I meant.

“Us,” I said, pointing between him and me.

“I…” His voice trailed off as he gawked at me. His expression changed from confusion to shock.

“I didn’t buy you to sleep with you,” he said, a touch of disbelief in his voice. His face turned crimson, then fell. “Why, have you done that before?” It was my turn to be surprised and offended.

I turned on my heels and began stomping away from him. He was too quick and he caught me again. His hand on my arm halted me. This time he didn’t release me when I peered down at his fingers wrapped around my bicep.

“Look. I need help,” he blurted. His face pinked a little, and it was sweet. “I don’t need help with sex. I need help with before.” His tone dropped, and he looked side to side to see if anyone would hear him. I took his meaning.

“You don’t know how to do foreplay?” I questioned in a loud whisper, trying to hide my astonishment. How could anyone have sex and not know a touch of foreplay?

His face pinked again.

“Not that,” he said, sounding like a child. “The flirting. The dating. The…other stuff.”

I was stunned. I stared at him, taking in his features again. He was kind of cute, leaning toward the potential for good looking. He couldn’t possibly need help with this request. The confusion on my face made him speak.

“I don’t know how to flirt.” The words swirled between us.

“I don’t understand.” I didn’t. I didn’t know what he wanted from me.

“I need lessons how to be…cool: with girls. Call it a tutoring session. I need to learn how to be…seen.” His voice took on a touch of sadness. He couldn’t possibly be serious. I continued to stare at him. My mouth might have actually dropped open a bit, and I noticed he was watching my lips. It was a little exciting the way he stared at them. I licked them and his pupils dilated, filling in more black over the blue. His expression changed. Knowingly, he blinked when he realized I was teasing him. His lip quirked up and a dimple showed in his cheek.

“I need to date you,” he blurted. “To learn how to do, what you just did to me.”

 

 

Author Bio

 

L.B. Dunbar loves the original legend of King Arthur. Inspired by this classic tale, she pulled over to the side of the road to take notes when it hit her that if King Arthur lived today, he’d be a rock star. A lover of fairy tales, myths, legends, and anything with happily ever after, she loves to read and write contemporary romance. Her Legendary Rock Stars series is complete with the final tale: The Trials of Guinevere DeGrance, but the story began with The Legend of Arturo King. She also wrote The Sensations Collection, which includes five stand alones based on the five senses in a small town setting near Lake Michigan. Raised on one side of that lake, she grew up in Michigan, but now lives on the other side, in Chicago. Mother to four, wife to the one and only, and teacher to hundreds of former students, she looks forward to sharing more stories in the future.

Author Links

TASTE TEST by L.B. Dunbar

Synopsis

In a modern twist of fairy tales,
what if the beast is a woman instead of a man?
Ethan Scott
I was about to find out when a mysterious job led to the secluded home of a horror novelist. I’d lost everything: my scholarship, my education, and my way. In denial of my family inheritance, I took the unusual employment as a chance out of a hole, but I found myself buried in the unknown trauma of another situation much deeper.
Ella Vincentia
I had changed my name and my address to keep myself hidden, but my scars were more than physical. Living as a recluse in the woods, I was used to being alone, so I wasn’t happy when a certain someone was always in my space. Our first encounter was less than pleasant and tension continued at every attempt to tame me.
Secrets
I knew she was keeping secrets and I wanted to help, but she was cutting me down and cutting me off every time she opened her mouth. Our frustration with one another grew until a misunderstanding changed everything. How can I be the next guy after something so tragic? It was a challenge I wasn’t sure I was willing to take.
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Excerpt
I
looked directly at her. The blue cloak matched her angered eyes and for a
moment I thought I saw something else in them. In her bent over position, she
looked down at me and I shivered with excitement thinking she was reaching for
me, until she leaned forward further and tried to tip the boat.
“Get
out.”
“Are
you…” I stopped. I was going to say crazy,
insane, cuckoo
.
“Say
it,” she snapped.
“I
wasn’t going to say it,” I lied.
“Yes,
you were,” and she reached for the underside of the boat, but could only touch
the side, pushing on it.
I
still had a hold on the edge of the dock and I let the boat float away a little
as if her push had an effect, before I pulled it back.
I
knew I was taunting her more.
“I.
Said. Get. Out,” and she reached forward again at the same time I pushed the
boat away from the dock. Ella lost her momentum and lunged toward me with a
look of shear panic. I caught her around the waist as I let go of the dock, but
the force of her coming at me pushed us both to the right and we hit the icy
cold lake. It was a short drop, and despite the shock of the water, I wrapped
one hand around Ella’s head to protect her from hitting the shallow bottom. I
slammed my shoulder into the pebbly lake bottom, landing on a rock as I twisted
to buffer her fall. I struggled to hold Ella and free my legs that now balanced
above me in the kayak.
Once
me legs were free, I easily kicked the soft bottom of the lake and righted
myself, still clutching Ella around the waist and head. The cold water had been
a shock, but the cool air above the surface was additional pins and needles. I
sucked in a breath, clenching Ella to me. I heard her gasp for air as she
shoved me hard in the chest like she had the day before behind the couch.
“What
the hell are you doing?” she yelled.
“Trying
to protect you.”
“Well,
I don’t need protecting.”
“You
almost drowned us,” I returned her growing anger.
“Us?
You almost drowned me. Holding me under the water,” she shouted back at me. She
had pushed back from me but now stepped awkwardly closer again in the knee-deep
water.
“And
you ruined my cloak.” Ella looked down at the soggy material and pulled some of
it up. The hood fell back when we’d returned to the surface, and her hair fell
in heavy waves around her shoulders. The water glistened off it, making it a
darker mixture of fall-leaf tones. I held in the moan trying to escape and
clenched my hands into fists at my side. I wanted to shake her madly then kiss
her passionately.
“You
almost drowned me by thinking you could push me out of that boat.”
“Well,
you weren’t getting out.”
“What
are you? Two? Cut the spoiled bitch act.” Ella gasped in shock as I shook my
head and ran both hands through my hair. I didn’t want to get mad at her.
“Funny.
Yesterday you said I was beautiful. Today I’m a bitch,” she retorted.
I took two steps
toward the dock in my water sodden clothes before I turned to face her again.
“You
are beautiful,” I started loudly, angrily, “if you’d just keep your damn mouth
shut,” I added in a whisper and finally pushed myself upward onto the dock. She
continued to stare at me as I crouched on the wooden platform and offered her
my hand.
“Come
here,” I said in an unknowingly seductive voice.
“I
don’t need your help,” she snapped back, resigned as she walked toward the
dock, dragging the soaking wet, heavy material behind her. I stood.
“I
get it. You don’t want my help. You don’t want my protection. You don’t want my
food,” I spit. “What you need is a good spanking,”…
I’d like to say I was always a writer. I’d also like to say that I wrote every day of my life since a child. That I took the teaching advice I give my former students because writing every day improves your writing. I’d like to say I have my ten-thousand hours that makes me a proficient writer. But I can’t say any of those things. I did dream of writing the “Great American Novel” until one day a friend said: Why does it have to be great? Why can’t it just be good and tell a story?
As a teenager, I wrote your typical love-angst poetry that did occasionally win me an award and honor me with addressing my senior high school class at our Baccalaureate Mass. I didn’t keep a journal because I was too afraid my mom would find it in the mattress where I kept my copy of Judy Blume’s Forever that I wasn’t allowed to read as a twelve year old.
I can say that books have been my life. I’m a reader. I loved to read the day I discovered “The Three Bears” as a first grader, and ever since then, the written word has been my friend. Books were an escape for me. An adventure to the unknown. A love affair I’d never know. I could be lost for hours in a book.
So why writing now? I had a story to tell. It haunted me from the moment I decided if I just wrote it down it would go away. But it didn’t. Three years after writing the first draft, a sign (yes, I believe in them) told me to fix up that draft and work the process to have it published. That’s what I did. But one story let to another, and another, and another. Then a new idea came into my head and a new storyline was created.
I was accused (that’s the correct word) of having an overactive imagination as a child, as if that was a bad thing. I’ve also been accused of having the personality of a Jack Russell terrier, full of energy, unable to relax, and always one step ahead. What can I say other than I have stories to tell and I think you’ll like them. If you don’t, that’s okay. We all have our book boyfriends. We all have our favorites. Whatever you do, though, take time for yourself and read a book.



 
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