L.B. Dunbar's Blog
December 5, 2018
Much Ado About a Cowboy - Chapter 1 & 2
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1
Beatrice
“Did you hear Ben Dexton has come home?�
The announcement from Aunt Toni startles me from the book I serenely read, losing myself in the fantasy of someone else’s reality. A breeze blows heady and warm across the wrap-around porch gracing my uncle’s old farmhouse. This place holds all I adore most in the world. Yet, the mere mention of his name rips through the peaceful pages of my reading, tearing to shreds the sweet sounds of nature around me in the late, summer evening.
Ben Dexton. How I loathe even the sound of his name. The hairs on my skin stand erect, tingling like an echo, lingering like a whisper of someone I used to know.
“He returned with Princeton Donne and another soldier fella named Clay O’Leary.� Beside me, my cousin Hermione lets out the slightest of inhales, setting my heart pattering. Younger than me, she’s like the sister I never had. Deep, dark hair contrasts her china doll skin. She’s delicate where I’m brash. Her tender hand quickly shoots up to cover her lips, hiding a knowing smile. With a twinkle in her turquoise eyes, she catches mine and instantly looks away. Narrowing mine, I don’t have time to ask her for details before my uncle responds.
“We should have them over for supper. In fact, we could use their help moving the herd.�
My book drops to my lap, the spoils of ancient maidens and rotten rogues forgotten, as my stunned eyes peer at the pleasant, wrinkled face of the man I consider a true father figure—Uncle Leo. Why would we need that scoundrel Ben Dexton, or his best friend, or some innocent soldier, who’d been sucked into the shenanigans of the first two? “Dear Lord, Uncle. You can’t be serious. We have plenty of hands to help with the herd.�
Dismissing me with a wave of his thick, overworked hand, my uncle addresses his wife.
“Whatcha hear, honey? Damn proud of their service to this country.� Uncle Leo taps the palm of his hand over his left pec and beats his chest once to signal his respect. He never served, yet his pride in the red, white, and blue runs deep. His older eyes gleam with reverence as he addresses his wife with his support for heroes returned home.
I, on the other hand, silently wish for small bodily impairment to an appendage of Ben Dexton. On second thought, that may be a rather large undertaking as I recall the girth of his� What am I thinking? I smack my forehead and tighten my eyes as if the image stands before me and not in my mind.
I will not think of him. I will not think of him. I will not think of him.
My mantra repeats as if clicking my ruby red boots could will away any memory.
“All the men are safe and happy to be home in one piece, according to Messina.� Messina, the town gossip, is considered high authority on all things. “She says they’ve been hanging out at the Donne’s estate.� A soft smirk curls the lips of my aunt as she looks over at me.
Uncle Leo scoffs. “That Princeton is set to inherit his parents� place someday. He’ll own the whole damn town when he does. He could afford three times our size, if he wishes, and ruin us.� In a sense, Leo is correct. Princeton’s family pioneered Bard County, building up the one-stop-light town, and welcoming the families of the surrounding area to form the community. Princeton Donne’s need for work is like a cricket needing a fiddle.
Aunt Toni dismisses her husband with a wave of her veiny hand. “Oh posh. He’d never take advantage. He’s too sentimental over this place.� Toni doesn’t mean our homestead but Bard County in general. Princeton would never try to rule the area like some people we know. The Capstones and Montanas come to mind.
“That he is.� My uncle’s soft mountain drawl fills the air. Headlights wind down the narrow drive, and Leo’s head swivels in the direction of a truck too dark to distinguish in the darkening hours.
I ignore the crunch of gravel under tires as the truck pulls near an outer building on our property, the bunkhouse by the stables. “And who is this Clay O’Leary?� I tease, shifting a glance at my cousin, who averts my eyes again. The corner of her lip curls, and I know I’m onto something when her face pinkens.
Aunt Toni replies, “He’s a decorated hero for his service, so I’m told, but a country boy at heart. Grew up near these parts, although he’s a few years younger than you, ma’am,� My cousin and Margaret giggle as Toni teases me. Margaret is one of our best friends caught in the middle of Hermione and me by her age. Wayward curly hair and dark, mischievous eyes grace her ruddy face. The way she carries her curvaceous body hints at the little hellion she is, but we adore her.
“Don’t ma’am me,� I admonish without spite, knowing she means no disrespect but feeling the sting of being considered too old. I’m not yet on the shelf, even if I am twenty-seven. No need to address me as if I’m ancient before my time. My aunt dismisses me with another smirk and a shake of her head. She knows I have no interest in men at the moment, or in the last eight years, give or take.
“You mentioned Mr. Dickton is holing up at the Donne’s? How appropriate for him,� I say, muttering the last to myself. “He loves any hole he can find.� With a false smile, the curl of my lips pinches my cheeks. “But I wonder why he’d return to where his cock feathers have already ruffled every virtuous hen?�
“Now, now, my smart-lipped niece, you’re embarrassing my sweet Hermione.� Aunt Toni winks at me while nodding at her daughter who blushes a deep magenta. Toni’s round face, accentuated by her white, cropped hair and a sparkle to her blue eyes, portrays a knowing look. The raise of a brow reminds me to behave. The woman, who is my mother’s sister, knows me too well and reads the innuendos in my comments.
“Yes, ignore the old bitter spinster, Hero,� I say, calling my cousin by her nickname. “I’m only teasing.� A smile returns to her pleasing, innocent face but her young eyes refuse to meet mine after boldly emphasizing the male anatomy I refuse to remember about Ben.
Don’t think of him.
“Mr. Dickton?� Margaret scoffs.
“My cousin means Ben.� Hermione giggles, wagging her head at me, but one brow rises similar to her mother’s.
If the name fits, I think, recalling the biggest playboy to hit our portion of the county. While Princeton may own Bard County, Ben possesses carnal knowledge of more than half the women in it with his oversized�
“Yes, don’t mind my niece, Margaret. We all know her bark is worse than her bite.�
“Unless someone wishes me to bite, and then I’m all teeth,� I retort, gnashing my molars together in a display of chomping.
A masculine chuckle occurs behind the railing at my back, and my spine tingles with recognition. Spinning to face the sound that haunts my memory, I drop my gaze on the most handsome man I’ve ever known. Brown waves hide under his ball cap, shielding eyes I don’t need to see to recognize. Rich, deep, the color of tilled soil. Those eyes match Montana earth, a place to set up roots and settle down on. It’s the best way to describe the hidden orbs I sense narrowing in on me. His shoulders are broader. His neck thicker. A faded black tee accentuates the bulge of crossed arms, one thick with black swirls of ink. His waist narrows above low-slung jeans resting on hips spread by the wide stance he holds as he looks over the attendants on my uncle’s porch.
“Well, I’ll be…� Uncle Leo calls out, rounding off the deck and circling the steps to shake hands with the intruder. “Welcome home, soldier.�
A second chuckle fills our visitor’s voice as he responds to my uncle’s hearty handshake. “Good to be home, sir.�
The timbre of his voice washes over me like the rush of frigid water when one leaps into the local river. My heart stops from the warm tone as cold memories circulate through my body.
Him filling me.
Him kissing me.
Him leaving me.
“Ben,� Aunt Toni cries out. “How wonderful to see you home.� She exits the porch with equal vigor of praise for the returned hero. I, however, remain in place, hands gripping the back of the porch swing where I sit next to Hermione. My aunt’s rocker still sways from her release, and I stare at the movement, wondering why my heart matches the steady, galloping beat.
Ben Dexton has returned home, a place he never wished to be.
A sharp jab to my ribs forces my eyes upward to notice three other men standing behind Ben. The dark silhouette of a figure equal in stature to Ben is none other than Princeton. His hair still remains close to the scalp in keeping with his military background. Dusty jeans and flannel shirt rolled to the elbows grace his sculpted body. Next to him stands his young friend, whom I can only assume is Clay. The final figure stands apart from the others.
“John,� I whisper. Having known Princeton’s brother for only a short while, his name on my lips tastes salty, reminiscent of one night’s mistake. His dark head of hair, covering his forehead and dipping across one eye gives him a sinister look, but when those bright blues look up at you, you’ll catch your breath. A viper snaring his prey. His tongue is wicked at both physical pleasure and spreading lies. My body shivers, at odds with itself between the negative vibe lurking around him and a sudden temptation to lick him. A cough breaks my stare and my gaze glides to Ben.
“Ah, Mr. Dickton, I see you survived war. How ironic as killing was never your passion. Tell me, how many hearts did you slay instead? I’m certain your cock…er…kills…belong to many unsuspecting victims.�
His eyes narrow at the reference to his anatomy, packed neatly behind jeans loose at his hips, but I know what lies behind the zipper. And I remember the wickedness of that part of him against trusting, eager girls.
I will not think of him naked. I will not think of him naked. I will not think of him.
“Lady Disdain, you still live…here, that is,� he quips, ignoring my reference to broken hearts and desperate women. He smirks at the play on my name—Beatrice Daine. “How unfortunate for any male within a fifty-mile radius.�
“Yes, well, how fortunate for whichever country allowed you to enter. You’ve probably reset their population.� My brow rises with meaning. A sharp whistle from his young friend Clay and a low hiss from Princeton follows my insult. Ben Dickton might have single-handedly—or should I say single-cockedly—started a baby boom from the amount of sperm he randomly donated to an entire nation.
“Now, now, spice, I see your tongue is still as sharp as those teeth you mentioned.� He snaps his jaw, clenching his teeth to emphasis a bite. Unfortunately for me, I remember those teeth nibbling at my ear, tenderly nipping at my jaw, and teasing my nipples, which now jump to erect peaks at the sight of his eyes slithering down to my traitorous breasts.
Not to mention, there’s that damn endearment.
Sugar and spice and everything nice, that’s what little girls are made of.
He’d call me sugar when he wanted to be sweet, but when my anger edged forward, he nicknamed me spice. He also used it when we had wild sex, and dammit, I’m instantly thinking of him naked. An unfamiliar sensation creeps up my inner thighs, meeting the flutters in my lower belly and causing a pulsing beat in a place too long neglected.
“Beautiful Beatrice,� Princeton purrs with humor, shaking his head. I stand to cross the porch and pay my respects to the service of my neighbor. He steps forward, and I walk into his embrace, warm arms encircling me. Princeton has been a good friend to our family, and my uncle adores him. My eyes shift to Ben’s over the shoulder of Prince, his nickname among us, and Ben quickly looks away, his jaw tensing once again.
“Bea, this here is Clay O’Leary. He served with us and he’s come to stay in Bard County for a while.�
Lean fingers reach for mine but surprise me with a firm, earnest handshake. His wild blond hair and deep brown eyes remind me of a peanut butter cookie with a candy on top. His sweet smile spreads like molasses off a spoon, slow and drizzly, and I wonder if he used his rosy lips on my cousin as his eyes search for her while his hand shakes mine.
“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am.� His deep southern voice startles me. His young face gives the impression he might have a softer tone.
“Please don’t ma’am me,� I say, keeping my voice level despite my frustration.
“Yes, ma’am is only used for a lady.� Ben’s voice jests and my attention draws back to him.
“Oh, are you still here? I thought you might have wandered off already, knowing you have trouble staying in one place and all.� My eyes roam the length of his body, hard edged and firm under his dark T. I recall the feel of his taunt skin under my palms and my fingers twitch, eager to experience this newer body before me. Thankfully, my head has more sense, and I mentally kick myself for thinking such things.
“My, how her mouth does run.� Prince chuckles, familiar with the banter between Ben and me. He’s a good-looking man in his own right—deep blue eyes and an angular face. The four men together look like one of those calendar ads for hot, brooding country boys.
“If only my horse ran as fast,� Ben snarks and the men guffaw at my expense. Too bad Ben doesn’t own a horse. No need to own a horse when I don’t have a place to call home. Ben holds my glare, and I wonder if he recalls the same memory. Clay snorts and then diverts his gaze from the wrath simmering inside my eyes. Prince pats Ben on the back as a display of shared humor but Ben doesn’t move.
“Ha ha,� I mutter, eyeing the silhouette of his masculine face, cut as if from the dry earth beneath us. A slight shadow covers his jaw; I don’t recall him having scruff in the past. “Laugh all you’d like, but you forget I know you.�
I know you, my heart cries. Dammit.
�
2
Ben
God dammit, she might be even prettier than I remember with blonde hair trickling down her back. Her body reminds me of a curvy backroad and her eyes are the blue of a sky chasing a sunset. Bea’s a ray of sunshine until she opens her mouth. Then she’s the heat of hell. That mouth is the very reason I didn’t want to make an impromptu visit. Princeton convinced us to take a ride after dinner, wanting to survey the land we hadn’t seen in over eight years, and somehow our truck brought us here.
“We’ll just say hello,� he suggested.
Shit. If I didn’t know him better, I’d think he had a hidden agenda for being here—Blue Star Manor—owned and operated by Leonardo Fleck, father to Hermione and uncle to one mouthy Beatrice Daine. How I can’t stand the memories of this woman, and yet, my body yearns for her after all these years. I’d gotten laid when we first returned stateside, but my traitorous dick recognizes Bea as someone who would be three times better than the girl from a few weeks ago. My heart wants a say in the matter as well, but I shush it, slamming the iron grate I erected long ago back in the face of my crushed organ. No words allowed from you, I curse. Stay in the cage, I remind it like hollering at a wild stallion, spirited and anxious to run free.
As I glare at Bea, I keep my arms crossed so I don’t reach out and throttle her. More than anything, I’d like to kiss the sass right off her perky lips. Lips that once bit mine, nipped my neck, and sucked me dry. The thought sends a jolt behind the seam of my zipper, and the tension zings throughout my body. My cock recalls someone lush, lusty, and lippy, and he wants, he wants.
Down, boy, I argue, willing myself to no longer look at her.
John Borgonne has drawn my attention, instead. I didn’t hear him leave the barn after we greeted old Mack and Tyrus, the herd hands. His silence is a disturbing presence. He’s sly and sneaky, reminding me a snake in the grass. With a tap of John’s foot against the packed dirt, I turn to face him, letting thoughts of Bea drift off in the evening breeze.
“And welcome home to you, too,� Leo offers, addressing Princeton’s brother. Bastard brother, if truth be told. His daddy couldn’t keep it in his pants, despite the sweet love of Princeton’s mother, Helena. A tussle in the hay, or rather an extra bedroom on their estate with a young maid, resulted in John. Fortunately for John, Princeton recognizes him as a brother. However, bitterness lies deep within John as his own father doesn’t appreciate his existence. When his young mother died, the grace of Helena allowed John to stay on the farm, but in the bunkhouse where he’d been raised under the disguise of someone else’s boy, although we all know the truth. We enlisted in the army, and Princeton no longer played the games of his parents. He acknowledged John who joined us overseas and returned to Bard County when we were released. Despite Princeton’s acceptance, I don’t trust John, and the way he looks at Bea disturbs me.
I shouldn’t care. I remind myself that I don’t.
Leo engages Princeton in a few minutes conversation about our journey home and suggests we return for breakfast to share in greater detail about our situation overseas. John declines the offer, and his simple rejection inclines me to accept with a nod of approval and a quick word of gratitude. When John turns for Bea, I excuse myself and begin walking away. Clay catches up to me, halting me halfway between the gathering and the beat-up truck parked by the stables.
“What do you think of Hermione?� Clay whispers, although we are out of hearing distance. His eyes drift back to the girls whom I note eye us while we try not to be obvious in glancing at them. It’s all so teenager-ish.
“I don’t think anything of her,� I reply, honest and quick in my answer.
“Isn’t she the most beautiful creature you’ve ever seen?� Clay continues taking in the features of Leo’s daughter. Brunette hair, fair skin, and sky-blue eyes, she’s your typical country beauty but nothing to make my heart patter or my cock swell. Clay, on the other hand, can’t seem to keep his eyes from her.
“You might want to be a little less obvious,� I stammer. “Drooling isn’t attractive.�
Clay’s gullibility makes him swipe at the corner of his mouth, checking for saliva that isn’t present.
“What’s going on?� Princeton teases, walking over to join us. He claps Clay on the shoulder and peers at the ladies over Clay’s angular body. Our fair-haired friend is years younger and inches taller than either of us. He’s lanky and lean, and rather oblivious in some matters. We remain standing in the yard, and I’m not certain what we are waiting on until I see John still near Bea.
“I said Hermione is the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, but Ben doesn’t agree,� Clay explains.
“Do you need me to agree?� I question, feeling the tension in my arms tighten, noting Bea’s eyes on us as if she can hear us.
“Don’t bother with Ben’s approval. He likes women well enough. He just can’t commit to liking only one.� Prince laughs after his declaration, and Clay smiles, displaying a dimple.
Glancing over at Hermione, I see her blush in response to Clay’s attention, and I recall Clay’s charm. He may be young, but he’s had his share of the finer sex. I’m distracted when John leans forward and kisses Bea on the cheek. My eyes narrow.
“Commit?� I snort. “Why commit? What’s that saying? Why own the cow when you can get the milk for free?�
“Is that a saying?� Clay asks, all innocent and unintelligent.
Princeton laughs harder. “Shit, Ben,� he teases. “You know it’s never really free with women.�
My gaze creeps back to Bea and quickly diverts. “Listen, I like women. A wonderful woman gave me life and I’m thankful. I was raised by that same loving woman and I’m much obliged. I’ve worshipped many women, and I’ve been grateful for the pleasure. Oh, God, I do appreciate women.� My hips thrust emphasizing my gratitude of the opposite sex, and Clay busts into laughter, bending at the waist. A feminine snort sounds off to the side of me, and I turn to see Bea twisting her head away from my direction, shaking in disgust. How could she hear me when she suddenly appears to be listening so intently to John? I huff in agitation.
“Now, there’s a woman my body could enjoy,� I mutter, nodding in the direction of my nemesis, torn between wanting to spank her for speaking to John or just spank her fine ass pointed in my direction. “I’ve never seen such a bucking beauty as her. But that edgy tongue of hers…� I release a low whistle.
“If I recall, your tongue liked the edge of hers just fine,� Princeton retorts with a tease in his tone and a glimmer in his eye as he peruses the body of his old friend. If I didn’t know better, I’d think they had a thing at one time. He better not have touched her.
“And as I recall, she cut me to the quick.� The words are a sharp reminder of Bea Daine as a tough woman who has no need for a man.
Not that I’m interested in being her man, because I’m not.
“But Princeton is right, Clay. I have no desire in getting saddled to a woman, thank you very much.� My crossed arms unfold, and my hands dig into my pockets. Tension vibrates off me at the thought of marriage. I’ll never marry, I told myself long ago, and I’ll be sticking to my self-proclamation. Country boys are loyal to promises they make to themselves. The thought nearly chokes me, and I look at Bea one last time. Brilliant blue eyes glare at me, storming with the heat of a summer thundershower. How I loved when she rained down on me, but it’s all in the past. Her eyes narrow deeper and the cobalt color swirls. She’d drown me in the hurricane of her.
“Oh, you’d saddle up, if you could.� Prince scoffs, his head tipping in Bea’s direction. The double entendre isn’t lost on me. I’d ride Bea Daine again in a heartbeat, but she’d buck me off just as quick. I don’t need that kind of rejection. There are plenty of other fillies to mount, although when I think about it, I’ve already done most of the county. Bard County isn’t largely populated. People have been here for generations. It’s one of those places that crawls under your skin and never leaves you no matter how hard you scrub or how far you travel.
“I’d rather be prodded with a poker than risk the claws of that woman,� I snap, returning his jab with a head tilt of my own at Bea. Prince chuckles again as a firm hand smacks my back.
“If you prod her, she will come,� he jokes. “And those claws on your skin...mmm…mmm…mmm…� His appraisal drifts off as he hums, and I want to belt one of my oldest friends. The jest instantly draws forward a memory of Bea’s legs around my waist, her nails dragging between my shoulder blades as I pin her to the barn wall. The exhale of her gasping breath whispers through my thoughts. So deep, she cried out. My cock is full from the image, and I’m ready to burst with the recall.
A giggle in the direction of the women draws my attention, and Hermione’s eyes leap up to Clay. Beside me, I hear my young friend inhale and watch as the girl drowns in a shade of deep pink. Princeton calls out to his brother as we’ve been waiting on him. Strange relief fills me that he’ll exit when we leave. I don’t like John so close to Bea, although I shake the thought.
“Come on,� Princeton suggests. “Let’s head out before we get in trouble.�
“Trouble,� I mutter. My eyes rake over Bea’s body, taking in the swell of her breasts under the white peasant top, the dip of her waist, and the denim clinging to her hips and legs. I’ve never been jealous of material before, but I envy those jeans. The only thing I’m not a fan of is the color, because the blue matches my balls at the moment.
1
Beatrice
“Did you hear Ben Dexton has come home?�
The announcement from Aunt Toni startles me from the book I serenely read, losing myself in the fantasy of someone else’s reality. A breeze blows heady and warm across the wrap-around porch gracing my uncle’s old farmhouse. This place holds all I adore most in the world. Yet, the mere mention of his name rips through the peaceful pages of my reading, tearing to shreds the sweet sounds of nature around me in the late, summer evening.
Ben Dexton. How I loathe even the sound of his name. The hairs on my skin stand erect, tingling like an echo, lingering like a whisper of someone I used to know.
“He returned with Princeton Donne and another soldier fella named Clay O’Leary.� Beside me, my cousin Hermione lets out the slightest of inhales, setting my heart pattering. Younger than me, she’s like the sister I never had. Deep, dark hair contrasts her china doll skin. She’s delicate where I’m brash. Her tender hand quickly shoots up to cover her lips, hiding a knowing smile. With a twinkle in her turquoise eyes, she catches mine and instantly looks away. Narrowing mine, I don’t have time to ask her for details before my uncle responds.
“We should have them over for supper. In fact, we could use their help moving the herd.�
My book drops to my lap, the spoils of ancient maidens and rotten rogues forgotten, as my stunned eyes peer at the pleasant, wrinkled face of the man I consider a true father figure—Uncle Leo. Why would we need that scoundrel Ben Dexton, or his best friend, or some innocent soldier, who’d been sucked into the shenanigans of the first two? “Dear Lord, Uncle. You can’t be serious. We have plenty of hands to help with the herd.�
Dismissing me with a wave of his thick, overworked hand, my uncle addresses his wife.
“Whatcha hear, honey? Damn proud of their service to this country.� Uncle Leo taps the palm of his hand over his left pec and beats his chest once to signal his respect. He never served, yet his pride in the red, white, and blue runs deep. His older eyes gleam with reverence as he addresses his wife with his support for heroes returned home.
I, on the other hand, silently wish for small bodily impairment to an appendage of Ben Dexton. On second thought, that may be a rather large undertaking as I recall the girth of his� What am I thinking? I smack my forehead and tighten my eyes as if the image stands before me and not in my mind.
I will not think of him. I will not think of him. I will not think of him.
My mantra repeats as if clicking my ruby red boots could will away any memory.
“All the men are safe and happy to be home in one piece, according to Messina.� Messina, the town gossip, is considered high authority on all things. “She says they’ve been hanging out at the Donne’s estate.� A soft smirk curls the lips of my aunt as she looks over at me.
Uncle Leo scoffs. “That Princeton is set to inherit his parents� place someday. He’ll own the whole damn town when he does. He could afford three times our size, if he wishes, and ruin us.� In a sense, Leo is correct. Princeton’s family pioneered Bard County, building up the one-stop-light town, and welcoming the families of the surrounding area to form the community. Princeton Donne’s need for work is like a cricket needing a fiddle.
Aunt Toni dismisses her husband with a wave of her veiny hand. “Oh posh. He’d never take advantage. He’s too sentimental over this place.� Toni doesn’t mean our homestead but Bard County in general. Princeton would never try to rule the area like some people we know. The Capstones and Montanas come to mind.
“That he is.� My uncle’s soft mountain drawl fills the air. Headlights wind down the narrow drive, and Leo’s head swivels in the direction of a truck too dark to distinguish in the darkening hours.
I ignore the crunch of gravel under tires as the truck pulls near an outer building on our property, the bunkhouse by the stables. “And who is this Clay O’Leary?� I tease, shifting a glance at my cousin, who averts my eyes again. The corner of her lip curls, and I know I’m onto something when her face pinkens.
Aunt Toni replies, “He’s a decorated hero for his service, so I’m told, but a country boy at heart. Grew up near these parts, although he’s a few years younger than you, ma’am,� My cousin and Margaret giggle as Toni teases me. Margaret is one of our best friends caught in the middle of Hermione and me by her age. Wayward curly hair and dark, mischievous eyes grace her ruddy face. The way she carries her curvaceous body hints at the little hellion she is, but we adore her.
“Don’t ma’am me,� I admonish without spite, knowing she means no disrespect but feeling the sting of being considered too old. I’m not yet on the shelf, even if I am twenty-seven. No need to address me as if I’m ancient before my time. My aunt dismisses me with another smirk and a shake of her head. She knows I have no interest in men at the moment, or in the last eight years, give or take.
“You mentioned Mr. Dickton is holing up at the Donne’s? How appropriate for him,� I say, muttering the last to myself. “He loves any hole he can find.� With a false smile, the curl of my lips pinches my cheeks. “But I wonder why he’d return to where his cock feathers have already ruffled every virtuous hen?�
“Now, now, my smart-lipped niece, you’re embarrassing my sweet Hermione.� Aunt Toni winks at me while nodding at her daughter who blushes a deep magenta. Toni’s round face, accentuated by her white, cropped hair and a sparkle to her blue eyes, portrays a knowing look. The raise of a brow reminds me to behave. The woman, who is my mother’s sister, knows me too well and reads the innuendos in my comments.
“Yes, ignore the old bitter spinster, Hero,� I say, calling my cousin by her nickname. “I’m only teasing.� A smile returns to her pleasing, innocent face but her young eyes refuse to meet mine after boldly emphasizing the male anatomy I refuse to remember about Ben.
Don’t think of him.
“Mr. Dickton?� Margaret scoffs.
“My cousin means Ben.� Hermione giggles, wagging her head at me, but one brow rises similar to her mother’s.
If the name fits, I think, recalling the biggest playboy to hit our portion of the county. While Princeton may own Bard County, Ben possesses carnal knowledge of more than half the women in it with his oversized�
“Yes, don’t mind my niece, Margaret. We all know her bark is worse than her bite.�
“Unless someone wishes me to bite, and then I’m all teeth,� I retort, gnashing my molars together in a display of chomping.
A masculine chuckle occurs behind the railing at my back, and my spine tingles with recognition. Spinning to face the sound that haunts my memory, I drop my gaze on the most handsome man I’ve ever known. Brown waves hide under his ball cap, shielding eyes I don’t need to see to recognize. Rich, deep, the color of tilled soil. Those eyes match Montana earth, a place to set up roots and settle down on. It’s the best way to describe the hidden orbs I sense narrowing in on me. His shoulders are broader. His neck thicker. A faded black tee accentuates the bulge of crossed arms, one thick with black swirls of ink. His waist narrows above low-slung jeans resting on hips spread by the wide stance he holds as he looks over the attendants on my uncle’s porch.
“Well, I’ll be…� Uncle Leo calls out, rounding off the deck and circling the steps to shake hands with the intruder. “Welcome home, soldier.�
A second chuckle fills our visitor’s voice as he responds to my uncle’s hearty handshake. “Good to be home, sir.�
The timbre of his voice washes over me like the rush of frigid water when one leaps into the local river. My heart stops from the warm tone as cold memories circulate through my body.
Him filling me.
Him kissing me.
Him leaving me.
“Ben,� Aunt Toni cries out. “How wonderful to see you home.� She exits the porch with equal vigor of praise for the returned hero. I, however, remain in place, hands gripping the back of the porch swing where I sit next to Hermione. My aunt’s rocker still sways from her release, and I stare at the movement, wondering why my heart matches the steady, galloping beat.
Ben Dexton has returned home, a place he never wished to be.
A sharp jab to my ribs forces my eyes upward to notice three other men standing behind Ben. The dark silhouette of a figure equal in stature to Ben is none other than Princeton. His hair still remains close to the scalp in keeping with his military background. Dusty jeans and flannel shirt rolled to the elbows grace his sculpted body. Next to him stands his young friend, whom I can only assume is Clay. The final figure stands apart from the others.
“John,� I whisper. Having known Princeton’s brother for only a short while, his name on my lips tastes salty, reminiscent of one night’s mistake. His dark head of hair, covering his forehead and dipping across one eye gives him a sinister look, but when those bright blues look up at you, you’ll catch your breath. A viper snaring his prey. His tongue is wicked at both physical pleasure and spreading lies. My body shivers, at odds with itself between the negative vibe lurking around him and a sudden temptation to lick him. A cough breaks my stare and my gaze glides to Ben.
“Ah, Mr. Dickton, I see you survived war. How ironic as killing was never your passion. Tell me, how many hearts did you slay instead? I’m certain your cock…er…kills…belong to many unsuspecting victims.�
His eyes narrow at the reference to his anatomy, packed neatly behind jeans loose at his hips, but I know what lies behind the zipper. And I remember the wickedness of that part of him against trusting, eager girls.
I will not think of him naked. I will not think of him naked. I will not think of him.
“Lady Disdain, you still live…here, that is,� he quips, ignoring my reference to broken hearts and desperate women. He smirks at the play on my name—Beatrice Daine. “How unfortunate for any male within a fifty-mile radius.�
“Yes, well, how fortunate for whichever country allowed you to enter. You’ve probably reset their population.� My brow rises with meaning. A sharp whistle from his young friend Clay and a low hiss from Princeton follows my insult. Ben Dickton might have single-handedly—or should I say single-cockedly—started a baby boom from the amount of sperm he randomly donated to an entire nation.
“Now, now, spice, I see your tongue is still as sharp as those teeth you mentioned.� He snaps his jaw, clenching his teeth to emphasis a bite. Unfortunately for me, I remember those teeth nibbling at my ear, tenderly nipping at my jaw, and teasing my nipples, which now jump to erect peaks at the sight of his eyes slithering down to my traitorous breasts.
Not to mention, there’s that damn endearment.
Sugar and spice and everything nice, that’s what little girls are made of.
He’d call me sugar when he wanted to be sweet, but when my anger edged forward, he nicknamed me spice. He also used it when we had wild sex, and dammit, I’m instantly thinking of him naked. An unfamiliar sensation creeps up my inner thighs, meeting the flutters in my lower belly and causing a pulsing beat in a place too long neglected.
“Beautiful Beatrice,� Princeton purrs with humor, shaking his head. I stand to cross the porch and pay my respects to the service of my neighbor. He steps forward, and I walk into his embrace, warm arms encircling me. Princeton has been a good friend to our family, and my uncle adores him. My eyes shift to Ben’s over the shoulder of Prince, his nickname among us, and Ben quickly looks away, his jaw tensing once again.
“Bea, this here is Clay O’Leary. He served with us and he’s come to stay in Bard County for a while.�
Lean fingers reach for mine but surprise me with a firm, earnest handshake. His wild blond hair and deep brown eyes remind me of a peanut butter cookie with a candy on top. His sweet smile spreads like molasses off a spoon, slow and drizzly, and I wonder if he used his rosy lips on my cousin as his eyes search for her while his hand shakes mine.
“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am.� His deep southern voice startles me. His young face gives the impression he might have a softer tone.
“Please don’t ma’am me,� I say, keeping my voice level despite my frustration.
“Yes, ma’am is only used for a lady.� Ben’s voice jests and my attention draws back to him.
“Oh, are you still here? I thought you might have wandered off already, knowing you have trouble staying in one place and all.� My eyes roam the length of his body, hard edged and firm under his dark T. I recall the feel of his taunt skin under my palms and my fingers twitch, eager to experience this newer body before me. Thankfully, my head has more sense, and I mentally kick myself for thinking such things.
“My, how her mouth does run.� Prince chuckles, familiar with the banter between Ben and me. He’s a good-looking man in his own right—deep blue eyes and an angular face. The four men together look like one of those calendar ads for hot, brooding country boys.
“If only my horse ran as fast,� Ben snarks and the men guffaw at my expense. Too bad Ben doesn’t own a horse. No need to own a horse when I don’t have a place to call home. Ben holds my glare, and I wonder if he recalls the same memory. Clay snorts and then diverts his gaze from the wrath simmering inside my eyes. Prince pats Ben on the back as a display of shared humor but Ben doesn’t move.
“Ha ha,� I mutter, eyeing the silhouette of his masculine face, cut as if from the dry earth beneath us. A slight shadow covers his jaw; I don’t recall him having scruff in the past. “Laugh all you’d like, but you forget I know you.�
I know you, my heart cries. Dammit.
�
2
Ben
God dammit, she might be even prettier than I remember with blonde hair trickling down her back. Her body reminds me of a curvy backroad and her eyes are the blue of a sky chasing a sunset. Bea’s a ray of sunshine until she opens her mouth. Then she’s the heat of hell. That mouth is the very reason I didn’t want to make an impromptu visit. Princeton convinced us to take a ride after dinner, wanting to survey the land we hadn’t seen in over eight years, and somehow our truck brought us here.
“We’ll just say hello,� he suggested.
Shit. If I didn’t know him better, I’d think he had a hidden agenda for being here—Blue Star Manor—owned and operated by Leonardo Fleck, father to Hermione and uncle to one mouthy Beatrice Daine. How I can’t stand the memories of this woman, and yet, my body yearns for her after all these years. I’d gotten laid when we first returned stateside, but my traitorous dick recognizes Bea as someone who would be three times better than the girl from a few weeks ago. My heart wants a say in the matter as well, but I shush it, slamming the iron grate I erected long ago back in the face of my crushed organ. No words allowed from you, I curse. Stay in the cage, I remind it like hollering at a wild stallion, spirited and anxious to run free.
As I glare at Bea, I keep my arms crossed so I don’t reach out and throttle her. More than anything, I’d like to kiss the sass right off her perky lips. Lips that once bit mine, nipped my neck, and sucked me dry. The thought sends a jolt behind the seam of my zipper, and the tension zings throughout my body. My cock recalls someone lush, lusty, and lippy, and he wants, he wants.
Down, boy, I argue, willing myself to no longer look at her.
John Borgonne has drawn my attention, instead. I didn’t hear him leave the barn after we greeted old Mack and Tyrus, the herd hands. His silence is a disturbing presence. He’s sly and sneaky, reminding me a snake in the grass. With a tap of John’s foot against the packed dirt, I turn to face him, letting thoughts of Bea drift off in the evening breeze.
“And welcome home to you, too,� Leo offers, addressing Princeton’s brother. Bastard brother, if truth be told. His daddy couldn’t keep it in his pants, despite the sweet love of Princeton’s mother, Helena. A tussle in the hay, or rather an extra bedroom on their estate with a young maid, resulted in John. Fortunately for John, Princeton recognizes him as a brother. However, bitterness lies deep within John as his own father doesn’t appreciate his existence. When his young mother died, the grace of Helena allowed John to stay on the farm, but in the bunkhouse where he’d been raised under the disguise of someone else’s boy, although we all know the truth. We enlisted in the army, and Princeton no longer played the games of his parents. He acknowledged John who joined us overseas and returned to Bard County when we were released. Despite Princeton’s acceptance, I don’t trust John, and the way he looks at Bea disturbs me.
I shouldn’t care. I remind myself that I don’t.
Leo engages Princeton in a few minutes conversation about our journey home and suggests we return for breakfast to share in greater detail about our situation overseas. John declines the offer, and his simple rejection inclines me to accept with a nod of approval and a quick word of gratitude. When John turns for Bea, I excuse myself and begin walking away. Clay catches up to me, halting me halfway between the gathering and the beat-up truck parked by the stables.
“What do you think of Hermione?� Clay whispers, although we are out of hearing distance. His eyes drift back to the girls whom I note eye us while we try not to be obvious in glancing at them. It’s all so teenager-ish.
“I don’t think anything of her,� I reply, honest and quick in my answer.
“Isn’t she the most beautiful creature you’ve ever seen?� Clay continues taking in the features of Leo’s daughter. Brunette hair, fair skin, and sky-blue eyes, she’s your typical country beauty but nothing to make my heart patter or my cock swell. Clay, on the other hand, can’t seem to keep his eyes from her.
“You might want to be a little less obvious,� I stammer. “Drooling isn’t attractive.�
Clay’s gullibility makes him swipe at the corner of his mouth, checking for saliva that isn’t present.
“What’s going on?� Princeton teases, walking over to join us. He claps Clay on the shoulder and peers at the ladies over Clay’s angular body. Our fair-haired friend is years younger and inches taller than either of us. He’s lanky and lean, and rather oblivious in some matters. We remain standing in the yard, and I’m not certain what we are waiting on until I see John still near Bea.
“I said Hermione is the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, but Ben doesn’t agree,� Clay explains.
“Do you need me to agree?� I question, feeling the tension in my arms tighten, noting Bea’s eyes on us as if she can hear us.
“Don’t bother with Ben’s approval. He likes women well enough. He just can’t commit to liking only one.� Prince laughs after his declaration, and Clay smiles, displaying a dimple.
Glancing over at Hermione, I see her blush in response to Clay’s attention, and I recall Clay’s charm. He may be young, but he’s had his share of the finer sex. I’m distracted when John leans forward and kisses Bea on the cheek. My eyes narrow.
“Commit?� I snort. “Why commit? What’s that saying? Why own the cow when you can get the milk for free?�
“Is that a saying?� Clay asks, all innocent and unintelligent.
Princeton laughs harder. “Shit, Ben,� he teases. “You know it’s never really free with women.�
My gaze creeps back to Bea and quickly diverts. “Listen, I like women. A wonderful woman gave me life and I’m thankful. I was raised by that same loving woman and I’m much obliged. I’ve worshipped many women, and I’ve been grateful for the pleasure. Oh, God, I do appreciate women.� My hips thrust emphasizing my gratitude of the opposite sex, and Clay busts into laughter, bending at the waist. A feminine snort sounds off to the side of me, and I turn to see Bea twisting her head away from my direction, shaking in disgust. How could she hear me when she suddenly appears to be listening so intently to John? I huff in agitation.
“Now, there’s a woman my body could enjoy,� I mutter, nodding in the direction of my nemesis, torn between wanting to spank her for speaking to John or just spank her fine ass pointed in my direction. “I’ve never seen such a bucking beauty as her. But that edgy tongue of hers…� I release a low whistle.
“If I recall, your tongue liked the edge of hers just fine,� Princeton retorts with a tease in his tone and a glimmer in his eye as he peruses the body of his old friend. If I didn’t know better, I’d think they had a thing at one time. He better not have touched her.
“And as I recall, she cut me to the quick.� The words are a sharp reminder of Bea Daine as a tough woman who has no need for a man.
Not that I’m interested in being her man, because I’m not.
“But Princeton is right, Clay. I have no desire in getting saddled to a woman, thank you very much.� My crossed arms unfold, and my hands dig into my pockets. Tension vibrates off me at the thought of marriage. I’ll never marry, I told myself long ago, and I’ll be sticking to my self-proclamation. Country boys are loyal to promises they make to themselves. The thought nearly chokes me, and I look at Bea one last time. Brilliant blue eyes glare at me, storming with the heat of a summer thundershower. How I loved when she rained down on me, but it’s all in the past. Her eyes narrow deeper and the cobalt color swirls. She’d drown me in the hurricane of her.
“Oh, you’d saddle up, if you could.� Prince scoffs, his head tipping in Bea’s direction. The double entendre isn’t lost on me. I’d ride Bea Daine again in a heartbeat, but she’d buck me off just as quick. I don’t need that kind of rejection. There are plenty of other fillies to mount, although when I think about it, I’ve already done most of the county. Bard County isn’t largely populated. People have been here for generations. It’s one of those places that crawls under your skin and never leaves you no matter how hard you scrub or how far you travel.
“I’d rather be prodded with a poker than risk the claws of that woman,� I snap, returning his jab with a head tilt of my own at Bea. Prince chuckles again as a firm hand smacks my back.
“If you prod her, she will come,� he jokes. “And those claws on your skin...mmm…mmm…mmm…� His appraisal drifts off as he hums, and I want to belt one of my oldest friends. The jest instantly draws forward a memory of Bea’s legs around my waist, her nails dragging between my shoulder blades as I pin her to the barn wall. The exhale of her gasping breath whispers through my thoughts. So deep, she cried out. My cock is full from the image, and I’m ready to burst with the recall.
A giggle in the direction of the women draws my attention, and Hermione’s eyes leap up to Clay. Beside me, I hear my young friend inhale and watch as the girl drowns in a shade of deep pink. Princeton calls out to his brother as we’ve been waiting on him. Strange relief fills me that he’ll exit when we leave. I don’t like John so close to Bea, although I shake the thought.
“Come on,� Princeton suggests. “Let’s head out before we get in trouble.�
“Trouble,� I mutter. My eyes rake over Bea’s body, taking in the swell of her breasts under the white peasant top, the dip of her waist, and the denim clinging to her hips and legs. I’ve never been jealous of material before, but I envy those jeans. The only thing I’m not a fan of is the color, because the blue matches my balls at the moment.
August 8, 2018
Restored Dreams Cover Reveal
More romance for the over forty by L.B. Dunbar
/book/show/4...
Brut Paige needs a life break.
As caretaker to his brother, his business, and his son, he's used to being the man to get things done.
Yet, along the way, he's forgotten how to have fun.
Lily Warren deserves a vacation.
She's worked hard to establish her bakery, a lifelong dream. She's proud of her accomplishments.
But, she knows there's something missing.
A broken heart tore them apart.
A little matchmaking forces them together...
Twenty-two years later.
Funny thing about being over forty—forgiveness and frosting can lead to all kinds of trouble…or restored dreams.
+ + +
If you loved Hank Paige in Midlife Crisis, you'll want to learn more about his brother, Brut, a sexy silver fox mechanic, and the lost woman of his dreams.
/book/show/4...
Brut Paige needs a life break.
As caretaker to his brother, his business, and his son, he's used to being the man to get things done.
Yet, along the way, he's forgotten how to have fun.
Lily Warren deserves a vacation.
She's worked hard to establish her bakery, a lifelong dream. She's proud of her accomplishments.
But, she knows there's something missing.
A broken heart tore them apart.
A little matchmaking forces them together...
Twenty-two years later.
Funny thing about being over forty—forgiveness and frosting can lead to all kinds of trouble…or restored dreams.
+ + +
If you loved Hank Paige in Midlife Crisis, you'll want to learn more about his brother, Brut, a sexy silver fox mechanic, and the lost woman of his dreams.
February 21, 2018
(L)ittle (B)it from L.B. Dunbar -
I figured out how to share this! If you missed my newsletter-Love Notes from L.B. Dunbar
Here is the first (L)ittle (B)it, shared back in January 2018. Unpublished book but (c) L.B. Dunbar (and unedited). Hope you enjoy this little hint of Allora and Canyon (friends of Arturo King and the Nights!)
Prologue
“Oh Stephen.�
Oh Stephen.
“Ah. Stephen. Oh God.� Faltering with on a deep exhale.
Oh My God, Stephen.
“Oh Stephen. Just. Like. That.�
I sighed.
“One more.� The grunt in his voice familiar.
Vomit rose in my throat as I swallowed hard and stared at him. I didn’t dare close my eyes. Pinched in concentration, his neck flexed as he thrust forward. Hands caressed down his back which was lean and dimpled from excessive working out. His skin glistened with sweat, the pumping motion of his hips under the sheet apparent.
Blonde hair tumbled to the side of his arm which braced over her. Her voice squeaked as she reached the climatic peak of his rhythm movements inside her. Her head rolled to the side and he nibbled on her neck. Blue eyes opened and caught me.
“Stephen?� A shrill voice chirped as hands came to his chest to stop him. His thrusting altered and he looked over his shoulder.
Stephen, I thought as blue eyes met mine from across the room. I hadn’t made it any farther than the doorway to our bedroom. It was the only room in the house that had any semblance of being finished. It contained the king size mattress and the baby’s bassinet on my side of the bed. The bed I shared with my husband. The bed now occupied by him, and another woman.
“Allora,� he mumbled as he scrambled off the woman under him and pulled the sheet up to cover his waist. His lean chest was rippled like his back. Conscientious of his body, he sculpted it. He worshiped it. At one point, he worshiped mine.
We had the perfect marriage, or so it seemed from the outside. It was a fairy tale. Budding millionaire marries woman from poorer side of town. Tavern rat turned musician earns her right amongst the rich and famous. One day I’m playing for them at a party; the next I’m being swept off my feet to an array of dinners, engagements and social affairs amongst them.
Animal attraction from the start, sex was the driving force. Anyone who saw us said Stephen loved me more than anything. It was in his eyes, my friends would tell me. It was a farce, I could now explain. That look was purely sexual desire. His pupils dilated; the blue as bright as could be around the black center as he stared at me across our bedroom. His eyes told me everything.
Within a year of marriage, we were starting a family. Without any discussion, Stephen just proved to me he wasn’t ready to be a father. He couldn’t handle the commitment. He had dropped hints that he didn’t want to be a parent. He made comments, which I assumed were in jest, about my growing size. For a person vain with body image, a blossoming wife knocked against his pride. I was nine months pregnant. The baby was due in ten days.
�
Three months later�
Allora
“I’m exhausted, Stephen, that’s what’s wrong with me.� I sighed into the phone as I jiggled the baby on my shoulder and balanced the phone between my chin and ear.
“I’ve got to put you on speaker phone.� I set the phone down, adjusted the baby, and tried to continue a conversation over the squawking of Zuzu.
“Can’t you shut her up or something?�
“Nice, Stephen. Very fatherly of you.� I stopped. What was I saying? He wasn’t fatherly at all. Stephen Shaw was the least fatherly person there was. Our legal separation had been quick and without perfunctory issues. He temporarily gave me the brownstone, which was a three story walk-up in New York City. Issue: completely gutted inside, it needed extensive work to be completed. Other than solid walls, it had little else.
He also declined his fatherly responsibilities. He wanted no visitation. After an excessive bit of arguing that included him saying he wasn’t going to be the babysitter, he decided that he didn’t want his paternal right to his child. Initially, visitation was scheduled for every other weekend and one night a week. Impossible with a nursing mother, he denied seeing the baby. The one time he came to visit me, after I had Zuzu, he didn’t want to hold her. He stared at her like she was a foreign object. Her cries put him on edge and his presence clearly upset her.
As far as babies went, she seemed rather fussy in general, and I was exhausted from doing it alone.
“Look, is there a point to this call?� I tried not to shout, but Zuzu seemed rather distressed. I bounced so hard from side to side, my voice vibrated in the phone. I felt like I was doing exercises unfamiliar to my body as I hadn’t done them in months. I had no time for the personal attention. I hadn’t taken a shower yet today and it was almost five o’clock in the afternoon. I still wore my glasses in hopes that Zuzu would nap and I could, too. Baby spit up was on the shoulder of the oversized t-shirt I wore instead of returning to maternity clothes while my body retracted. Basically, I was a mess at the moment, and I didn’t have time to deal with Stephen.
“I’ve hired some help.�
My heart leapt at the thought of a live-in nanny, but immediately dropped at that idea. I wasn’t upset to be a mother. For all intents and purposes, I loved being a mother. I just wasn’t keen on doing it alone.
“I’ve hired someone to fix up the house. Then we can get it on the market.�
I sighed. The house. I’d been allowed to stay as I had nowhere else to go. I couldn’t move in with my sister Lace who let Enid live with her at the moment. As much as I loved my cousin, Trinity, she was out of the question. The latest addition to our group, Guinevere, wasn’t a possibility, either. The fact was I loved my house. I loved the possibility of it. Originally, the probability of building a life with Stephen and raising our family here excited me. Convenient to his work and mine, it was a gorgeous little haven in New York where others like us were just starting out. Stephen let me stay, rent free; however, only until we could sell the place. Then we would split the sale in half as our joint legal property, and Stephen Shaw would be free of me one hundred percent. I looked rather forward to the removal of him from my life.
“The person is coming at five to give you an appraisal of all that needs to be done.�
I glanced at the time on my phone. It was 4:45 pm. I looked down at myself. I fucking hated Stephen sometimes.
“Fine,� I huffed. “I need to go.�
I had no sooner turned off the phone when there was a knock at the door.
�
Canyon
I wasn’t sure I had the correct address. I double checked the numbers twice, but it was right. I was nervous. I’d never had to do this before. It was my first gig and I didn’t want to screw this up. I needed this job. I needed to prove myself.
From the outside, the place didn’t look bad. The brick stood in good condition, and the windows appeared newer. The walk-up steps were decent. The front door needed to be replaced. I didn’t know how this job was going to go down. The man who hired me wanted someone cheap and fast with quality skills. The program confirmed my references and my ability. “The Program,� quote unquote. I had six months, max, to finish the overhaul of the property. I would be allowed a small team if needed, but I was to assess the place on my own.
I knocked again as the doorbell clearly did not work. After a few moments, a woman answered the door with a crying baby in her arms. Dark hair piled on her head. Glasses bridged her nose and behind them gleamed the darkest brown eyes. She smiled at me, politely. My breath caught, but then she frowned as she turned away to soothe the baby.
“Zuzu, please, honey.� She jiggled the displeased baby. “I’m sorry,� she returned to me. “Are you the man that Stephen hired?�
“Stephen?� I blinked at her then looked down at the assignment on the iPad. “Oh yes, Stephen Shaw, although it says to meet a Mrs. Allora Shaw.�
She stared at me for a long moment and I worried she hadn’t heard me.
“Mrs. Shaw?� My eyebrow rose in question.
“Uhm � yes � I guess � I mean. Well, I’m Allora. Just Allora. Come on in.� She fluttered a free hand and stepped back to allow me entrance. Her back braced on the door to open it farther as my large frame entered the hall. I stood six-six. Not a small lady, herself, I still towered over her. She had to be almost a foot shorter than me. Her eyes scanned up my body and then she blushed deeply.
“I’m so sorry, but how tall are you?� Her voice hitched an octave. When I told her my height, she laughed.
“Is your name Mountain, by any chance?� She giggled again, like a teenager.
“Nope, Canyon.�
She blinked once then spoke again. “Are you serious?�
Ԩ.�
“That’s a unique name.�
Ԩ.� End of discussion. I’d heard it all before. A unique name, for a unique person, my mother said. I never liked that explanation but it was better than the real reason I had the name.
“Well, Mr. Canyon, right this way.�
She led the way through a nearly empty house. First floor included living room, separate dining space and makeshift kitchen. Entrance to back deck overlooked a mess of a backyard. The baby made an irritating bit of noise as Allora followed me through my inspection.
“How old is the baby?� I stunk at small talk, but I asked anyway.
“Three months.� She shifted the bundle to the other side.
Staircase led down to a laundry facility which she wanted moved to the second floor, she pointed out. Long term goal originally envisioned a finished space for a workout room and playroom, she explained, but the current work order did not include those plans.
She led the way to the second floor which included three bedrooms, two baths. One room sported a king size mattress. Another room held a four poster double bed and a baby bassinet. The baby continued to squeak.
“Do you need to feed her or something?�
“I just did,� she bit, then sighed. “I just did.� Her tone softened. “I think it’s gas. She’s very fussy anyway at this time of day.�
Ignoring the cries, we continued to the top floor where smaller bedrooms lined the narrow hall. I assumed this had once been a nursery and/or maids� quarters. Victorian in layout; sparse in style, the space would make a great music room. I instantly shut off the thought.
“You need quite a bit of work done.� I stated the obvious as I took notes while I stood at the top of the staircase. Allora sighed again and jiggled the baby from side to side. The noise got to be a bit much for me and my fingers twitched. I placed the iPad between my thighs and held out my large hands.
“Would you mind if I held her?� I wiggled my fingers, but I wasn’t taking no for an answer. That baby needed to stop.
“Her name is Zuzu,� Allora said as she placed the baby in my open arm. I shifted her to cradle over my arm. Her head balanced in the crook of my elbow, her belly braced against my long forearm. My hand held her between her tiny legs. The instantaneous silence was almost louder than her cries.
“How did you do that?� Dark eyes stared at me in wonder.
“It’s the pressure against the belly. If it’s gas, it stops it.� Baby drool rolled over my elbow, slowly dampening my arm.
“I’m so sorry.� Allora pulled up the corner of her oversized t-shirt. I looked away immediately. The length of the shirt made it appear as if it was a short dress, which meant I might get an expected glimpse at her goods. I didn’t want to risk the sight. Soft cotton wiped my arm then disappeared.
“Sorry,� she said under her breath as she smoothed down the shirt. She touched her hair and then stopped. She blushed again and pushed the glasses up her nose. Awkwardness fell between us standing amongst the empty bedrooms.
“I guess we should go back downstairs.� She pointed over her shoulder. Turning she led the way then stopped and glanced back at me.
“Maybe, I should…� She set out her hands for the baby, but I shook my head.
“I got her for a minute,� I assured her. I wasn’t ready to let the little babe go.
�
Allora
Holy crap, he was a big man. I’d never seen anyone so tall, or so built before. Stephen and I stood nearly the same height, as he was only an inch or two taller than me. He liked it that way. It was important for photos, he said, that we didn’t appear too diverse. His man cleared me but almost a foot and spread double my size. He was a bulky, sexy beast.
Stephen also liked that our hair color blended. This Canyon character had hair as long as mine, in streaks of varying brown, hanging loose and wild. He kept moving it over his head to balance on one side as he took notes on the iPad. Every time he typed I could only imagine dollar signs, but Stephen intended to take care of it all. He had a budget, and planned to write the whole house off as investment. A business venture between us, instead of a marriage proposal, it stated in the divorce decree. The house had once been an engagement present.
I tried not to think of the details of Stephen’s past romantic gestures. It only made the whole process harder. I couldn’t go into the room where Stephen humped his new girlfriend. Without the physical strength to remove the king size mattress alone, it remained in the room. Trinity offered to come over and burn it, but I didn’t see the benefit of burning down the whole place. I suggested Stephen take it with him when he moved out. I actually insisted he remove it, but his new girlfriend didn’t want it. His marriage bed to another woman, she called it. Yeah, his wife, you stupid bitch.
I took a deep breath. Thinking of Stephen got me nowhere. I needed to calm down.
“Uhm � hello…� A rich, deep voice broke into my self-meditation.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?�
“So I wondered if you were given an explanation of the expenses and how this program works?�
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.� I blinked at Canyon.
“The program? That your husband hired me from?� He raised an eyebrow and dipped his head.
“Uhm � he’s not my husband.�
“You’re not married?� His accusatory tone caught me off guard, as if an implication of something wrong with me. Then he coughed. “I mean, you’re not married. Well, your � uhm …�
“Ex-husband,� I choked.
“Ex-husband,� he said slowly. “He hired me from a program that includes room and board in the assignment.�
I continued to stare at him, waiting with my next breath for further explanation. Canyon said nothing.
“I don’t understand,� I said.
“I don’t think I should take this job,� he suddenly replied, handing me a presently sleeping Zuzu.
“I’m sorry. Why not?� I looked at him, my eyes widened in concern. Was it too much? It was a large place. Maybe it was the money? Did it scare him that I was a single woman and he didn’t think I could financially support the job?
“Mr. Shaw is financing this whole project, if you’re worried about the money. You’ll get paid. If there’s anything Stephen is good at it, it’s paying out,� I snorted.
Canyon stared at me. His eyes were dark brown, almost black. It made me shiver a bit to watch him look at me, and then I remembered how I looked. I repulsed myself at the moment. Greasy hair piled on my head, glasses sipped down my nose, and I smelled faintly of baby.
“It isn’t that,� he said.
“I see,� I paused, narrowing my eyes at him and shaking my head at him as if I understood him. “Actually, I don’t. What’s wrong with the house?�
“It isn’t the house,� he insisted, running his fingers through his long hair, forcing it to one side again. “It’s the room and board.�
“Room and board?� I puzzled.
“Yes, the living arrangement established through the program.�
“Living arrangement,� I repeated as if I understood, but I had no clue what he was talking about.
“Yes, the one where I live here while I work.�
Here is the first (L)ittle (B)it, shared back in January 2018. Unpublished book but (c) L.B. Dunbar (and unedited). Hope you enjoy this little hint of Allora and Canyon (friends of Arturo King and the Nights!)
Prologue
“Oh Stephen.�
Oh Stephen.
“Ah. Stephen. Oh God.� Faltering with on a deep exhale.
Oh My God, Stephen.
“Oh Stephen. Just. Like. That.�
I sighed.
“One more.� The grunt in his voice familiar.
Vomit rose in my throat as I swallowed hard and stared at him. I didn’t dare close my eyes. Pinched in concentration, his neck flexed as he thrust forward. Hands caressed down his back which was lean and dimpled from excessive working out. His skin glistened with sweat, the pumping motion of his hips under the sheet apparent.
Blonde hair tumbled to the side of his arm which braced over her. Her voice squeaked as she reached the climatic peak of his rhythm movements inside her. Her head rolled to the side and he nibbled on her neck. Blue eyes opened and caught me.
“Stephen?� A shrill voice chirped as hands came to his chest to stop him. His thrusting altered and he looked over his shoulder.
Stephen, I thought as blue eyes met mine from across the room. I hadn’t made it any farther than the doorway to our bedroom. It was the only room in the house that had any semblance of being finished. It contained the king size mattress and the baby’s bassinet on my side of the bed. The bed I shared with my husband. The bed now occupied by him, and another woman.
“Allora,� he mumbled as he scrambled off the woman under him and pulled the sheet up to cover his waist. His lean chest was rippled like his back. Conscientious of his body, he sculpted it. He worshiped it. At one point, he worshiped mine.
We had the perfect marriage, or so it seemed from the outside. It was a fairy tale. Budding millionaire marries woman from poorer side of town. Tavern rat turned musician earns her right amongst the rich and famous. One day I’m playing for them at a party; the next I’m being swept off my feet to an array of dinners, engagements and social affairs amongst them.
Animal attraction from the start, sex was the driving force. Anyone who saw us said Stephen loved me more than anything. It was in his eyes, my friends would tell me. It was a farce, I could now explain. That look was purely sexual desire. His pupils dilated; the blue as bright as could be around the black center as he stared at me across our bedroom. His eyes told me everything.
Within a year of marriage, we were starting a family. Without any discussion, Stephen just proved to me he wasn’t ready to be a father. He couldn’t handle the commitment. He had dropped hints that he didn’t want to be a parent. He made comments, which I assumed were in jest, about my growing size. For a person vain with body image, a blossoming wife knocked against his pride. I was nine months pregnant. The baby was due in ten days.
�
Three months later�
Allora
“I’m exhausted, Stephen, that’s what’s wrong with me.� I sighed into the phone as I jiggled the baby on my shoulder and balanced the phone between my chin and ear.
“I’ve got to put you on speaker phone.� I set the phone down, adjusted the baby, and tried to continue a conversation over the squawking of Zuzu.
“Can’t you shut her up or something?�
“Nice, Stephen. Very fatherly of you.� I stopped. What was I saying? He wasn’t fatherly at all. Stephen Shaw was the least fatherly person there was. Our legal separation had been quick and without perfunctory issues. He temporarily gave me the brownstone, which was a three story walk-up in New York City. Issue: completely gutted inside, it needed extensive work to be completed. Other than solid walls, it had little else.
He also declined his fatherly responsibilities. He wanted no visitation. After an excessive bit of arguing that included him saying he wasn’t going to be the babysitter, he decided that he didn’t want his paternal right to his child. Initially, visitation was scheduled for every other weekend and one night a week. Impossible with a nursing mother, he denied seeing the baby. The one time he came to visit me, after I had Zuzu, he didn’t want to hold her. He stared at her like she was a foreign object. Her cries put him on edge and his presence clearly upset her.
As far as babies went, she seemed rather fussy in general, and I was exhausted from doing it alone.
“Look, is there a point to this call?� I tried not to shout, but Zuzu seemed rather distressed. I bounced so hard from side to side, my voice vibrated in the phone. I felt like I was doing exercises unfamiliar to my body as I hadn’t done them in months. I had no time for the personal attention. I hadn’t taken a shower yet today and it was almost five o’clock in the afternoon. I still wore my glasses in hopes that Zuzu would nap and I could, too. Baby spit up was on the shoulder of the oversized t-shirt I wore instead of returning to maternity clothes while my body retracted. Basically, I was a mess at the moment, and I didn’t have time to deal with Stephen.
“I’ve hired some help.�
My heart leapt at the thought of a live-in nanny, but immediately dropped at that idea. I wasn’t upset to be a mother. For all intents and purposes, I loved being a mother. I just wasn’t keen on doing it alone.
“I’ve hired someone to fix up the house. Then we can get it on the market.�
I sighed. The house. I’d been allowed to stay as I had nowhere else to go. I couldn’t move in with my sister Lace who let Enid live with her at the moment. As much as I loved my cousin, Trinity, she was out of the question. The latest addition to our group, Guinevere, wasn’t a possibility, either. The fact was I loved my house. I loved the possibility of it. Originally, the probability of building a life with Stephen and raising our family here excited me. Convenient to his work and mine, it was a gorgeous little haven in New York where others like us were just starting out. Stephen let me stay, rent free; however, only until we could sell the place. Then we would split the sale in half as our joint legal property, and Stephen Shaw would be free of me one hundred percent. I looked rather forward to the removal of him from my life.
“The person is coming at five to give you an appraisal of all that needs to be done.�
I glanced at the time on my phone. It was 4:45 pm. I looked down at myself. I fucking hated Stephen sometimes.
“Fine,� I huffed. “I need to go.�
I had no sooner turned off the phone when there was a knock at the door.
�
Canyon
I wasn’t sure I had the correct address. I double checked the numbers twice, but it was right. I was nervous. I’d never had to do this before. It was my first gig and I didn’t want to screw this up. I needed this job. I needed to prove myself.
From the outside, the place didn’t look bad. The brick stood in good condition, and the windows appeared newer. The walk-up steps were decent. The front door needed to be replaced. I didn’t know how this job was going to go down. The man who hired me wanted someone cheap and fast with quality skills. The program confirmed my references and my ability. “The Program,� quote unquote. I had six months, max, to finish the overhaul of the property. I would be allowed a small team if needed, but I was to assess the place on my own.
I knocked again as the doorbell clearly did not work. After a few moments, a woman answered the door with a crying baby in her arms. Dark hair piled on her head. Glasses bridged her nose and behind them gleamed the darkest brown eyes. She smiled at me, politely. My breath caught, but then she frowned as she turned away to soothe the baby.
“Zuzu, please, honey.� She jiggled the displeased baby. “I’m sorry,� she returned to me. “Are you the man that Stephen hired?�
“Stephen?� I blinked at her then looked down at the assignment on the iPad. “Oh yes, Stephen Shaw, although it says to meet a Mrs. Allora Shaw.�
She stared at me for a long moment and I worried she hadn’t heard me.
“Mrs. Shaw?� My eyebrow rose in question.
“Uhm � yes � I guess � I mean. Well, I’m Allora. Just Allora. Come on in.� She fluttered a free hand and stepped back to allow me entrance. Her back braced on the door to open it farther as my large frame entered the hall. I stood six-six. Not a small lady, herself, I still towered over her. She had to be almost a foot shorter than me. Her eyes scanned up my body and then she blushed deeply.
“I’m so sorry, but how tall are you?� Her voice hitched an octave. When I told her my height, she laughed.
“Is your name Mountain, by any chance?� She giggled again, like a teenager.
“Nope, Canyon.�
She blinked once then spoke again. “Are you serious?�
Ԩ.�
“That’s a unique name.�
Ԩ.� End of discussion. I’d heard it all before. A unique name, for a unique person, my mother said. I never liked that explanation but it was better than the real reason I had the name.
“Well, Mr. Canyon, right this way.�
She led the way through a nearly empty house. First floor included living room, separate dining space and makeshift kitchen. Entrance to back deck overlooked a mess of a backyard. The baby made an irritating bit of noise as Allora followed me through my inspection.
“How old is the baby?� I stunk at small talk, but I asked anyway.
“Three months.� She shifted the bundle to the other side.
Staircase led down to a laundry facility which she wanted moved to the second floor, she pointed out. Long term goal originally envisioned a finished space for a workout room and playroom, she explained, but the current work order did not include those plans.
She led the way to the second floor which included three bedrooms, two baths. One room sported a king size mattress. Another room held a four poster double bed and a baby bassinet. The baby continued to squeak.
“Do you need to feed her or something?�
“I just did,� she bit, then sighed. “I just did.� Her tone softened. “I think it’s gas. She’s very fussy anyway at this time of day.�
Ignoring the cries, we continued to the top floor where smaller bedrooms lined the narrow hall. I assumed this had once been a nursery and/or maids� quarters. Victorian in layout; sparse in style, the space would make a great music room. I instantly shut off the thought.
“You need quite a bit of work done.� I stated the obvious as I took notes while I stood at the top of the staircase. Allora sighed again and jiggled the baby from side to side. The noise got to be a bit much for me and my fingers twitched. I placed the iPad between my thighs and held out my large hands.
“Would you mind if I held her?� I wiggled my fingers, but I wasn’t taking no for an answer. That baby needed to stop.
“Her name is Zuzu,� Allora said as she placed the baby in my open arm. I shifted her to cradle over my arm. Her head balanced in the crook of my elbow, her belly braced against my long forearm. My hand held her between her tiny legs. The instantaneous silence was almost louder than her cries.
“How did you do that?� Dark eyes stared at me in wonder.
“It’s the pressure against the belly. If it’s gas, it stops it.� Baby drool rolled over my elbow, slowly dampening my arm.
“I’m so sorry.� Allora pulled up the corner of her oversized t-shirt. I looked away immediately. The length of the shirt made it appear as if it was a short dress, which meant I might get an expected glimpse at her goods. I didn’t want to risk the sight. Soft cotton wiped my arm then disappeared.
“Sorry,� she said under her breath as she smoothed down the shirt. She touched her hair and then stopped. She blushed again and pushed the glasses up her nose. Awkwardness fell between us standing amongst the empty bedrooms.
“I guess we should go back downstairs.� She pointed over her shoulder. Turning she led the way then stopped and glanced back at me.
“Maybe, I should…� She set out her hands for the baby, but I shook my head.
“I got her for a minute,� I assured her. I wasn’t ready to let the little babe go.
�
Allora
Holy crap, he was a big man. I’d never seen anyone so tall, or so built before. Stephen and I stood nearly the same height, as he was only an inch or two taller than me. He liked it that way. It was important for photos, he said, that we didn’t appear too diverse. His man cleared me but almost a foot and spread double my size. He was a bulky, sexy beast.
Stephen also liked that our hair color blended. This Canyon character had hair as long as mine, in streaks of varying brown, hanging loose and wild. He kept moving it over his head to balance on one side as he took notes on the iPad. Every time he typed I could only imagine dollar signs, but Stephen intended to take care of it all. He had a budget, and planned to write the whole house off as investment. A business venture between us, instead of a marriage proposal, it stated in the divorce decree. The house had once been an engagement present.
I tried not to think of the details of Stephen’s past romantic gestures. It only made the whole process harder. I couldn’t go into the room where Stephen humped his new girlfriend. Without the physical strength to remove the king size mattress alone, it remained in the room. Trinity offered to come over and burn it, but I didn’t see the benefit of burning down the whole place. I suggested Stephen take it with him when he moved out. I actually insisted he remove it, but his new girlfriend didn’t want it. His marriage bed to another woman, she called it. Yeah, his wife, you stupid bitch.
I took a deep breath. Thinking of Stephen got me nowhere. I needed to calm down.
“Uhm � hello…� A rich, deep voice broke into my self-meditation.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?�
“So I wondered if you were given an explanation of the expenses and how this program works?�
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.� I blinked at Canyon.
“The program? That your husband hired me from?� He raised an eyebrow and dipped his head.
“Uhm � he’s not my husband.�
“You’re not married?� His accusatory tone caught me off guard, as if an implication of something wrong with me. Then he coughed. “I mean, you’re not married. Well, your � uhm …�
“Ex-husband,� I choked.
“Ex-husband,� he said slowly. “He hired me from a program that includes room and board in the assignment.�
I continued to stare at him, waiting with my next breath for further explanation. Canyon said nothing.
“I don’t understand,� I said.
“I don’t think I should take this job,� he suddenly replied, handing me a presently sleeping Zuzu.
“I’m sorry. Why not?� I looked at him, my eyes widened in concern. Was it too much? It was a large place. Maybe it was the money? Did it scare him that I was a single woman and he didn’t think I could financially support the job?
“Mr. Shaw is financing this whole project, if you’re worried about the money. You’ll get paid. If there’s anything Stephen is good at it, it’s paying out,� I snorted.
Canyon stared at me. His eyes were dark brown, almost black. It made me shiver a bit to watch him look at me, and then I remembered how I looked. I repulsed myself at the moment. Greasy hair piled on my head, glasses sipped down my nose, and I smelled faintly of baby.
“It isn’t that,� he said.
“I see,� I paused, narrowing my eyes at him and shaking my head at him as if I understood him. “Actually, I don’t. What’s wrong with the house?�
“It isn’t the house,� he insisted, running his fingers through his long hair, forcing it to one side again. “It’s the room and board.�
“Room and board?� I puzzled.
“Yes, the living arrangement established through the program.�
“Living arrangement,� I repeated as if I understood, but I had no clue what he was talking about.
“Yes, the one where I live here while I work.�
January 21, 2018
10 DAYS 'til Tommy
#loveover40
☆�.�*¨*★☆� COMING 1.31.18 ★☆★�.�*¨*�
Ready for romance over 40?
After Care
By L.B. Dunbar
Contemporary Rom-Com for Gen X
Releasing 1.31.18
AFTER CARE:
TBR: /book/show/3...
BLURB:
Breast cancer survivor Edie Williams is ready to live.
Divorced. Mother of two.
She’s planned the vacation of a lifetime for a reboot,
only to encounter an awakening adventure—Tommy Carrigan.
Manager of the band Collision, Tommy Carrigan has his plate full.
Independent. Carefree.
He’s on an annual holiday with his band family,
when the unexpected happens—Edie Williams.
Love might be just what the doctor prescribed,
but can it survive the world of rock-n-roll?
+++
If you enjoyed The Sex Education of M.E., you’ll love After Care, another romance for the over-forty from L.B. Dunbar. Continue the adventure previously published in Love Notes, the newsletter of L.B. Dunbar.
LOVE NOTES:
☆�.�*¨*★☆� COMING 1.31.18 ★☆★�.�*¨*�
Ready for romance over 40?
After Care
By L.B. Dunbar
Contemporary Rom-Com for Gen X
Releasing 1.31.18
AFTER CARE:
TBR: /book/show/3...
BLURB:
Breast cancer survivor Edie Williams is ready to live.
Divorced. Mother of two.
She’s planned the vacation of a lifetime for a reboot,
only to encounter an awakening adventure—Tommy Carrigan.
Manager of the band Collision, Tommy Carrigan has his plate full.
Independent. Carefree.
He’s on an annual holiday with his band family,
when the unexpected happens—Edie Williams.
Love might be just what the doctor prescribed,
but can it survive the world of rock-n-roll?
+++
If you enjoyed The Sex Education of M.E., you’ll love After Care, another romance for the over-forty from L.B. Dunbar. Continue the adventure previously published in Love Notes, the newsletter of L.B. Dunbar.
LOVE NOTES:
January 1, 2018
Coming Soon
Don't miss another over 40 romance from me!
Coming January 31.
Add it to your TBR today!
Breast cancer survivor Edie Williams is ready to live.
Divorced. Mother of two.
She’s planned the vacation of a lifetime for a reboot,
only to encounter an awakening adventure—Tommy Carrigan.
Manager of the band Collision, Tommy Carrigan has his plate full.
Independent. Carefree.
He’s on an annual holiday with his band family,
when the unexpected happens—Edie Williams.
Love might be just what the doctor prescribed,
but can it survive the world of rock-n-roll?
+ + +
If you enjoyed The Sex Education of M.E., you’ll love After Care, another story for the over-forty from L.B. Dunbar. Continue the adventure previously published in Love Notes, the newsletter of L.B. Dunbar.
Coming January 31.
Add it to your TBR today!
Breast cancer survivor Edie Williams is ready to live.
Divorced. Mother of two.
She’s planned the vacation of a lifetime for a reboot,
only to encounter an awakening adventure—Tommy Carrigan.
Manager of the band Collision, Tommy Carrigan has his plate full.
Independent. Carefree.
He’s on an annual holiday with his band family,
when the unexpected happens—Edie Williams.
Love might be just what the doctor prescribed,
but can it survive the world of rock-n-roll?
+ + +
If you enjoyed The Sex Education of M.E., you’ll love After Care, another story for the over-forty from L.B. Dunbar. Continue the adventure previously published in Love Notes, the newsletter of L.B. Dunbar.
December 29, 2017
2018
New Year. New books.
I can't wait for some of the amazing books coming as a reader and a writer. So here's to 2018. My personal goal - 100 books read.
I can't wait for some of the amazing books coming as a reader and a writer. So here's to 2018. My personal goal - 100 books read.
January 4, 2017
COVER REVEAL - 1.4.17
I'm also elda lore so...cartwheels for COVER REVEAL time...
Solis: Modern Descendants 2
Elda Lore (L.B. Dunbar writing as)
Genre: Paranormal Romance; Fantasy; New Adult
Sunshine is sinful, but, oh, so heavenly.
The sun sets - January 30th.
HUGE THANK YOU to Amy Queau at Q Design Cover and Brand Premades Design Cover and Brand Premades for another amazing cover. Solis is -- hot!
Blurb:
Veva Matron is a feisty girl raging with suppressed anger and distrust of men.
Solis Cronus is a blindingly beautiful, Greek god of a guy, who likes to play women.
An electric hatred thunders through each of them about the other until one night, lightning strikes. A world of secrets reveals the destiny of two at odds with one another, and clouds the line between love and hate.
Can a lively girl find calm in the stormy tension of a boy made of sunshine and sin?
The mythical tale of Zeus and Hera reignites in this modern interpretation of enemies to lovers. Full of flirty sexual angst and teasing temptation, Solis might be the one man who can extinguish Veva’s angry fire and ignite a different sort of flame: desire.
PRE-ORDER -- 99 cents
Amazon:
iBooks:
Kobo:
Nook:
Sign-ups for the release:
Release blitz:
Blog Tour:
Solis: Modern Descendants 2
Elda Lore (L.B. Dunbar writing as)
Genre: Paranormal Romance; Fantasy; New Adult
Sunshine is sinful, but, oh, so heavenly.
The sun sets - January 30th.
HUGE THANK YOU to Amy Queau at Q Design Cover and Brand Premades Design Cover and Brand Premades for another amazing cover. Solis is -- hot!
Blurb:
Veva Matron is a feisty girl raging with suppressed anger and distrust of men.
Solis Cronus is a blindingly beautiful, Greek god of a guy, who likes to play women.
An electric hatred thunders through each of them about the other until one night, lightning strikes. A world of secrets reveals the destiny of two at odds with one another, and clouds the line between love and hate.
Can a lively girl find calm in the stormy tension of a boy made of sunshine and sin?
The mythical tale of Zeus and Hera reignites in this modern interpretation of enemies to lovers. Full of flirty sexual angst and teasing temptation, Solis might be the one man who can extinguish Veva’s angry fire and ignite a different sort of flame: desire.
PRE-ORDER -- 99 cents
Amazon:
iBooks:
Kobo:
Nook:
Sign-ups for the release:
Release blitz:
Blog Tour:
March 23, 2015
COVER REVEAL TODAY
The Story of Lansing Lotte...the legend continues April 28. See the edgy cover!!
January 27, 2015
LIVE!! The Legend of Arturo King
Arturo King is live today. Here's hoping people enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. It's romantic, sexy, and a bit of suspense. If King Arthur lived today, he'd be a rock star, and that's what I made him.
December 4, 2014
The Legend of Arturo King
2015 is going to be a legendary year as the start of the Legendary Rock Star series begins in January. Follow the journey of Arturo King, and his band members, Lansing Lotte, Perkins Vale and Tristan Lyons, as they soldier through life with the pressure of being musical legends. Promised to rock your world, this band of brothers is sexy, suspenseful and sure to be an epic among rock star book groupies.
A new series, a bit different, from L.B. Dunbar. Edgy. Entertaining. Everlasting.
A new series, a bit different, from L.B. Dunbar. Edgy. Entertaining. Everlasting.
