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After Care by L.B. Dunbar

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What do you get when you cross a breast cancer survivor with a sexy, mature man….

After Care

A romance for the over 40.

L.B. Dunbar

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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.

 

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? Paradise Found ? CAIN by LB Dunbar

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Blurb:

“I hate that I love you,” she said. “You left me.”

“I lost you, there’s a difference. Now that I found you, I intend to keep you.”

Lost.

I’d tasted the sweetest fruit of temptation, and I wanted another bite. I had promised myself before, but once wasn’t enough. The savory flavor of her lingered long after I’d lost her. Contending with the pressure to return to the fight, in order to prove myself to my father and the world, I had to let her go.

Found.

It has been a year. Sofie Vincentia and I had played a dangerous game. For one night, we pretended, only to discover our farce was real. I’d lost her, but I hadn’t stopped searching, hoping for her return. I was used to getting what I wanted, so when she didn’t come to me, I had to go after her. This would be the greatest fight of my life.

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Abel is now available!

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About the Author:

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I’d love to say I’ve written for 10,000 hours, and that makes me a pro. But I can’t say that. What I can say is I had a story in my head that wouldn’t go away. I thought typing it in my computer would be the end of things, but it only led to another story and another. I love reading, so characters in my head isn’t something new. What is new is my creation of them. Hope you enjoy my favorites as much as I do. Happy reading!

Connect with LB!

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Web: www.lbdunbar.com

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? CAIN ? by LB Dunbar Release Blitz

 

 Grab CAIN on Amazonn

 

Title: Paradise Found: Cain
Series: Paradise #2
Author: L.B. Dunbar
Genre: Contemporary New Adult Romance/MMA
 Release Date: June 6, 2016

 

Blurb

 

“I hate that I love you,” she said. “You left me.”
“I lost you, there’s a difference. Now that I found you, I intend to keep you.”
Lost.
I’d tasted the sweetest fruit of temptation, and I wanted another bite. I had promised myself before, but once wasn’t enough. The savory flavor of her lingered long after I’d lost her. Contending with the pressure to return to the fight, in order to prove myself to my father and the world, I had to let her go.
Found.
It has been a year. Sofie Vincentia and I had played a dangerous game. For one night, we pretended, only to discover our farce was real. I’d lost her, but I hadn’t stopped searching, hoping for her return. I was used to getting what I wanted, so when she didn’t come to me, I had to go after her. This would be the greatest fight of my life.

 

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Excerpt
Post – Fight

Cain

The sound of her heels, retreating from me, echoed down the hallway in the opposite direction of the gathered crowd. I was still dressed for the fight. I’d rubbed a towel down my body, as I didn’t care to change or shower yet. I needed to get to her before she escaped me again. Following behind the click of her heels, I called her name a second time, commanding her to stop. She didn’t listen. For the slightest second, it sounded like the tapping on the tile increased. I sped up my pace, determined to catch her.

“Sofie,” I called out. The tension built. She was going to run. My hand reached out for her, as I drew closer. My stride lengthened. Her tight skirt curved over her hips, holding her snug ass, and trapping her steps. High heels prevented her from moving any faster, despite her determined hustle. This wasn’t how I remembered her dressing. She wore loose skirts and fitted t-shirts, except on the second night. An image of a black dress being removed from delicate shoulders flitted through my memory. My eyes fell to her ass again, recalling what was under that shapely skirt. I’d seen it, felt it, tasted it, and I wanted it again.

“Sofie,” I demanded. Her name was more than a plea; it was a command to stop. We were headed in a circle. The sound of the gathered crowd was echoing back toward us. She was trapped. If she kept going, she’d lead us directly into the paparazzi pit. Cameras would capture her and I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to explain who she was to the public. Not yet. I needed a private reunion first.

Her pace slowed. My outstretched fingers captured her upper arm and tugged her to a halt. Her body was gently slammed against the cement block wall behind her, and my arms caged her in.

“Sofie.” My breath caught as I scanned her face. Bright blue eyes under a pinched brow looked briefly at me, then avoided my gaze. Her face was flushed. I remembered that pink skin. Another vision flashed in my memory of her questioning me over a wooden wine bar. She was interested in my anatomy at that moment. I wanted her to be interested in my anatomy again. A certain part of me definitely had her attention, if she wished for it. I wasn’t only hard; I was towering straight out for her. My dick knew what it wanted. It was drawn to the lyrical whispers of what I assumed would be wet folds beneath black panties.

Another vision flashed through my mind. This included stripping her of black lingerie: simple, satin, and molded to the shape of her. I’d never seen anything so tempting, until she was removed of it. White skin, pink nipples, and a dark mound pointing to a treasure were the most beautiful colors I’d ever seen, next to her eyes, which were glaring at me as I assessed her face.

“Cain,” she said sharply. Her head lifted, holding it high; she was pissed. There was no other way to describe her expression. She hated me. I couldn’t exactly blame her, but it wasn’t the reunion I anticipated. It wasn’t the reunion I expected. It wasn’t the reunion I was going to accept.

“My sweet temptation,” I hissed to her. My tongue licked my lips, eager to taste hers. She swallowed, and my eyes widened at the smooth roll of her skin against her throat. My hand slipped up to her shoulder and my pelvis fell forward, instinct drawing my dick to her. I flinched uncontrollably as it hit her lower abdomen. It craved some place lower on her body.

She didn’t push me away. In fact, her hands were splayed against the cool cement behind her. Her eyes shone bright beyond those tempting red glasses, and bright red lips matched, sucking in air at the invasion of my body against hers. I wanted those lips to suck somewhere else. She’d done it before. I knew how sweet she could be, but her eyes were harder now. Those lips wanted nothing to do with any part of my body.

My hand continued to travel up the tender skin of her throat, and she swallowed hard again, trembling beneath my touch. She wasn’t repulsed by me, but she was frightened. I didn’t want her to be afraid of me, but she needed to be concerned. If my father found her, there would be trouble like she’d never known before. Her sweetness did not understand the depths of evil associated with me.

“Don’t touch me,” she growled.

On second thought, perhaps she did.

My hand slipped into her chestnut locks and tugged gently, but enough to remind her that I was a strong man. I wouldn’t hurt her. In fact, I was certain I hadn’t hurt her in the past. I was the one that suffered.

“One night, you longed for my touch,” I whispered harshly, drawing my mouth closer to hers. “In fact, I remember someone sweetly asking for it.”

My hands slithered in opposite directions. One surveyed the hilly swells of side breast while the other travelled the valley of her abdomen until it rose over curvy hips. I gripped a fist full of material and tugged it upward, jostling her body with the rough hitch of her skirt.

“If I remember correctly, you wanted me,” I purred against her moist skin. Her fear produced a sheen of sweat that covered her face. My nose dragged along her jaw, then dipped down her neck. Holding herself still, her hands remained flat against the wall to her sides. My hips pinned her in place as the skirt rose.

My fingers graced the soft skin of her thigh. She flinched and I pressed firmly forward. There was no doubt of my excitement. Dressed only in my fighting shorts, my bare chest brushed close to her generous breasts, which had been covered with my hands and mouth in the past. I wanted to reenact those memories, but my fingers had other intentions. In a jagged drag of skin against skin, I gripped her thigh, climbing upward, heading for the fruit of my desire.

“Do you still want me?” I whispered into her neck. “Do you remember?” I groaned as a thick digit delved through the warm moisture of folded skin, ripe for what I intended. I wanted inside her. Damp with desire, I slipped aggressively into her. I demanded she remember as I added a second finger. Her breath hitched as she moaned and heavy lids closed.

“Look at me,” I commanded. My forehead almost rested on hers, but I held back enough to stare into her eyes. I wanted her to see me, remember me, remember what I’d done to her. How she felt under me, wrapped within her. I grunted as my dick flinched, my skin too tight. This temptress had to recall what she had done to me, as well. I was going to come undone being this close to her, and yet she was so far away.

Blue eyes pierced mine, but they still contained a softness within them. I didn’t want to believe my sweet temptation could rot. She was spoiled by me, but she wasn’t ruined. She was stronger than that.

“Do you remember?” My fingers increased their exploration. It was a renewed excavation. They rediscovered what they missed. Sliding in and out, she joined my pace. Her hips moved slowly, then increased, matching the beat inside her.

“That’s it, my sweet.” I pulled back to watch her lids droop, then fight to open wide. “Good girl,” I rasped, as I brushed back a stray hair but didn’t falter in my rhythm between her legs. Her hands released from the wall. Palms flattened against my shoulders then wrapped around them as best they could. She had delicate hands. Tender and gentle. They had teased as she had tugged me and stroked me the first time. I jolted and my hips pressed toward her, but my hand was the focus. Her fingers dug into bare skin covered in tattoos of the snake I was. Sharp, blunt nails soon pinched into me as her hips rolled and her luscious center rocked.

“I want you to remember,” I commanded. “Remember where I’ve been. Who I am.” My fingers took on a life of their own, and they worked hard, digging deeper into the tender cavern of warmth, wet and ready for me. My thumb flicked over the sensitive pearl outside of her. Her breath hitched. Nails gripped into hard skin. She didn’t have claws, not my girl, but she was latching onto me. That’s exactly what I wanted.

“Tell me you didn’t forget,” I whispered, my voice dropping as my pace continued. She didn’t answer me and I stopped. The blue rivers turned to ice as she glared at me. I was the devil. And I would break this reunion, if she didn’t play my game.

She shook her head, refusing to speak. I pulled out of her quickly, feeling the release of her juices as they slid down her leg. Her eyes narrowed only slightly. Then she said my name. It was hardly more than a squeak, a meek plea, an unanswered question. Her nails slowly released me. Fingers peeled upward from my skin. I was going to lose her.

Fingers slammed into her and her head gently fell back. She sucked in a harsh breath, as I demanded her recollection without words. I wanted her to relive the memory of what I had done to her. Only me.

I worked fast and her fingers lay back against my warm skin. Nails made tender impressions on my shoulder. She could mark me. I wouldn’t care. She’d already scarred my heart.

“Cain?” she questioned, but I knew the answer. She was ready to burst. Her tender fruit had been plucked and she craved what came next. That first bite. The sound of my name almost undid me, but it would take more than that for me to be satisfied. For her, the flick of my thumb unleashed her. Nails burrowed deep, her eyes shuddered closed, and her head tipped back. She clenched hard, squeezing my hand between her thighs. My dick practically danced, but I had been the king of denial. I would not have her yet. This was only a reminder.

As my attention slowed, and I spread fingers through folds so wet they wept, my forehead came to hers.

“Tell me you remember?” I pleaded. My heart fell to my stomach as I held my breath.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget.”

I pulled back in surprise, my eyes widened. My expression had to betray a strange sense of glee.

“I’ll never forget,” she whispered, averting her eyes as she looked down at her raised skirt and my retreating hand. She pushed the material downward hastily then shoved my wrist away from her.

“I’ll never forget…that you’re an asshole.” Propelled backward as she braced against my chest, I stumbled in surprise at her use of profanity. My girl didn’t swear, but the venom in her voice proved she’d changed. My sweet temptation was tainted by the poison of me. What I’d done to her. I let her escape as her words sliced through me. I was an asshole.

 

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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.

 

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? Paradise Fought ABEL ? by LB Dunbar Excerpt and Review

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Title: Paradise Fought: Abel
Author: L.B. Dunbar
Release Date: Jan 25, 2016
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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.

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.”

Kristys Review (2)4 Star ReviewAnybody who’s read LB Dunbar’s knights series knows that there is always more going on in one of her books than meets the eye. She loves to play on historical themes and to intertwine her plot with grandiose legends. With the Knights Series it was King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table and with Abel….you guessed it…the bible.

Abel is the second son, the lesser son in his father’s eyes, always in the shadow of his older brother Cain. Born into a family of fighters and having survived a nasty childhood, Abel is determined to prove that he too is a fighter and a worthy opponent to his brother.  Shy and invisible in his brother’s shadow, Abel is slowly transforming himself, content to swim under the radar until the need to be noticed by the beautiful girl of his dreams forces him into the spotlight.

Elma was floundering, and sinking fast after being forced to step up and manage her life and the life of her drunk mother.  Her brother had been her protector, her stability until suddenly he wasn’t. A chance meeting and an impulsive decision have now intertwined Abel and Elma as they struggle for identity and revenge.

Abel was endearing. A sweet man, shy and eager to please Elma, watching him transform from the insecure beta to the man he wants to be quite a journey.  It was so refreshing reading an MMA book where the main male character is NOT an alpha douche with a long line of conquests and an attitude to match.  Abel is smart, protective and selfless. I adored him and watching him discover his own self worth.

Elma is unique.  She is a strange mix of innocent and jaded, she is vengeful and manipulative yet caring and loving.  It’s pretty impressive to see a character that is so completely contradictory buy still completely believable and  empathetic.  I wanted her to succeed, to overcome and to get her happy ending.
The best part of this book for me was the smartly interwoven classic themes.  I love those moments when your eyes open a little wider and you realize the author gave you this little Easter egg, a little surprise twist you didn’t see coming but you feel really smart for figuring out.  I loved all the clever little nuggets in this one.
And I can’t wait for Cain’s book.
L.B. Dunbar loves to read to the point it might be classified as an addiction. The past few years especially she has relished the many fabulous YA authors, the new genre of New Adult, traditional romances, and historical romances. A romantic at heart, she’s been accused of having an overactive imagination, as if that was a bad thing. Author of the Sensations Collection,Sound AdviceTaste TestFragrance FreeTouch Screen, and Sight Words, she is also author of the Legendary Rock Star series, beginning with The Legend of Arturo King. She grew up in Michigan, but has lived in Chicago for longer, calling it home with her husband and four children.

 

✽✽Release Blitz✽✽ The Trials of Guinevere DeGrance by L.B. Dunbar

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 Title: The Trials of Guinevere DeGrance

Series: Legendary Rock Stars #5

Author: L.B. Dunbar

Genre: Rock Star Romance

 Release Date: September 14, 2015

Blurb

Don’t judge me. I know you want to, but let’s get some facts straight in my defense.

1. I love Arturo King

2. Arturo left me behind.

3. I was lonely.

4. Lansing was an old friend.

5. I love Arturo King.

Did you burn the fictional damsel in distress that cuddled and kissed her best friend when her fantastical boyfriend disappeared for months? No, you didn’t. You sympathized with her loneliness before you read ahead to make sure the boyfriend was coming back to her. Loneliness is not a crime. It’s cruel to be alone, but not a crime, the last I knew. If it is a crime, I’ll light the match to ignite myself for what I’ve done. Goodness knows, I’m burning up with guilt as it is. In my defense, I want my story to be told before I’m judged too harshly. Arturo King might be a rock legend, but he and I are human. We make mistakes. We made mistakes. Do we need to suffer for all of eternity because of them? I hope not. The jury still seems to be out, though. The greater question is: Is it possible to rekindle our love, when the past could burn us all?

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