Title: The Quest For Perkins Vale (Legendary Rock Star #3)

Author: L.B. Dunbar

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Date: June 22, 2015

Synopsis

I’m not sure I know what to think of the girl I’ve searched for since I was thirteen; she isn’t exactly how I remembered her. I’m twenty-five, a guy and a virgin. Yep, you read that right; I’m still a virgin. Why you ask? Because I met the woman of my dreams when she was still a girl and I’ve been searching for her ever since we met. I’ve saved myself for her, as I believe she saved herself for me. Why again? Because I will love her, like she will love me, when we finally meet, again. I’d like to think it was that simple, but I don’t really know if she will love me. I only hope she will. If she doesn’t, she won’t be the right girl for me, because like I said, I’ve been saving myself for the woman of my dreams. I just don’t know where she is…but I won’t stop searching until I find her. That is my mission. My quest.

Buy The Book

Amazon US | Amazon UK | KOBO

Excerpt

The Quest of Perkins Vale © 2015 L.B. Dunbar “We met before. A long time ago in what I believe was your uncle’s home.” She only nodded, waiting for me to continue. Her hesitancy told me she might not remember me, and I felt a pinch in my heart. I’d been holding onto the memory for so long. I knew it was dangerous to hope she had held the memory, as well. “My uncle has many homes. Which one was it?” I paused. She didn’t remember; it was obvious. “The one near Lake Avalon.” She only nodded in an I-see sort of way. “And you know my uncle, how?” I began to wonder when this became her question and answer time versus mine. “Arturo’s father was a friend of his.” “Arturo? Was he the guy on the other bike?” I stopped flipping the bacon and pinched my eyebrows at her. “Yes. Arturo King.” She continued to look at me without recognition. “You do know who Arturo King is, right?” “Isn’t he the lead singer of The Nights?” “Yeah. The band playing last night at The Round Table.” I continued to stare at her, hesitant in my words, hopeful that she recognized the band. “And that makes you….?” I looked at her suddenly aghast. “You don’t know who I am?” “Of course, you’re…” She paused. I couldn’t believe it. She had no idea who I was. “You don’t know, do you? How could you get on the bike with me, if you had no idea who I was?” I began to beat the eggs briskly before dumping them into the ready skillet. “I…” She stopped. I returned my surprised face to look at hers. “Do you make it a habit of going home with strangers? Men you don’t know?” “I…” She looked hurt suddenly, but her face changed instantly to a hard shield. “It’s none of your damn business who I go home with or not. You practically kidnapped me. Once I was on the bike, it’s not like I had a choice. Ride or die.” “Ride or die?” I choked, a side of my lips curling upward, biting back a laugh. “Yeah. Ride, or jump off and die.” I returned to flipping the bacon, thoughtful for a moment. “I would never hurt you,” I said softly, still looking at the sizzling meat in the pan. Silence filled the space next to the crackle of frying bacon. “Will you please tell me who you are?” she finally asked, her voice no more than a whisper. “We won’t be strangers once you tell me your name.” Sighing, I responded, “I’m Perkins Vale.” Although I’d heard it before, I hardly expected it from her. “Alan Vale’s son?” Yep. For someone who hardly recognized Arturo King, and didn’t recognize me as Perkins Vale, she knew Alan Vale? “You know my father, but not me?” I couldn’t hold it in and laughed without humor. “Alan Vale was one of the greatest singer-guitarists of all times. His band won Grammys when they were young and old. The Valentines are classic.” Classic, I thought. Greatest, I almost choked. “I didn’t know him,” I bit out. Silence filled the air again between us. Plating eggs and bacon for her, I served her before I did the same for myself. I sat on a stool that made me perpendicular to her, so I could almost face her. She took several small bites of the food as if she was afraid it might poison her, but I devoured the meal, which I hoped prove to her it was safe to eat. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, “about your dad.” “It’s nothing.” I took a final gulp of coffee to steel my courage and ask her questions. “Why were you in a women’s shelter?” “You think I…” She stopped. “How do you know my name again?” she interrupted herself, as she squinted at me. “I know your uncle. Women’s shelter? Why?” “We’ve met before?” I had already concluded she didn’t remember our first meeting. “This is not how this is going to happen, Hollister.” I needed to change the direction of this inquisition. “I have questions, then you can have yours.” Delicately, she placed her fork on her plate and crossed her arms under her chest, forcing her breasts to rise. It distracted me and my body reacted again to her. I had to divert my eyes from the temptation of wanting to know what it felt like to cup them, tug them with my mouth, bite her nipples to see how hard they could get, and make her scream without hardly touching her. Her gaze on me narrowed again. “Are you done yet? I know your reputation.” I laughed, this time in earnest. “You don’t know me, but you know of my reputation?” “Who hasn’t heard of the Hands-Free Lover?” “What?” I choked, although I had heard that God-awful nickname amongst many others. “Hands-Free Lover. Known to make a woman scream in ecstasy without even touching her.” “Wow. That’s powerful stuff.” I smiled. She still held those narrowed steel eyes on me. “Want to find out?” I added. Her red lips opened wide in shock, and I’d gone too far again. I’d always had trouble with that, which is why I didn’t know how to communicate with women. I knew the ways of women: how to please them and make them scream, but I couldn’t talk to them. I always felt I’d say the wrong thing. I always asked too many questions, except for the right question all those years ago. My mind slipped back to my purpose with her. “Never mind.” I straightened my back. “I need to ask you about your uncle.” She hesitated for a moment. “Joseph?” The surprise wasn’t hidden on my face. “Joseph? I thought your uncle was Roy.” She had a thoughtful, contemplative look for a moment. “Hmm…Joseph.” Something was off. I didn’t believe her, but I let it go for now. I felt this was going too far, too fast again. I needed her to trust me. I wanted to prove she could trust me. “I need a shower,” I said. “Give me ten minutes and then I promise to drive you back to the shelter after we talk.” She relaxed her shoulders and let her crossed arms slide down her stomach to form resting hands in her lap. Hanging her head slightly, she nodded to agree with me. Feeling triumphant, I jumped off of my stool, leaving the dishes, and heading for my room. Entering the bathroom, I saw her clearing the dishes and starting the sink to wash them. I had a strange flash of her doing that action again, and I smiled to myself as I entered the shower. The trouble was I also thought of her standing in only the Swamp the Crows t-shirt, minus the leggings, minus anything else, in front of that sink; or better yet, completely naked against my kitchen counter. I envisioned me coming up behind her and covering her hands on the edge of the counter, holding her captive, while I rubbed myself against her bare ass. I imagined what she would sound like: a soft moan and a slight whimper. I imagined sliding my knee between her thighs, forcing her to spread her legs and then rubbing my throbbing length against her warmth. I grabbed myself in the shower, unable to resist the heaviness in my hands. I had to get release to stop thinking of her that way. I needed answers first. I slipped my palm upward, jerking several times as I began to imagine what it would feel like to enter her. How tight. How warm. How wet. I had to place a hand on the slick tile to hold my large body steady as I jerked one more time and spilled into the warm cascade of water. I could only imagine what she would feel like, because I didn’t know. I hadn’t known any woman like that. Ever. At twenty-five, I was still a virgin.

About The Author

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 Advice, Taste Test, Fragrance Free, Touch Screen, and the upcoming 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.

Facebook |Facebook Author Page | Amazon | TSU | Newsletter| Twitter | Pinterest |Goodreads | Booktropuloussocial | Blogger Website | Instagram

Buy The Book

Amazon | Barnes And Noble

Amazon | Barnes And Noble

Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

I could not be more excited to feature this new release! Who hasn't rocked out to the music of Smash Mouth?! Now you can go behind the music with a band that carried the spirit of a generation in Walkin' on the Sun; The Official Smash Mouth Biography.

 
 

To be extraordinary was a fate Arie Belle had never imagined. Her days had been filled with naïve pleasures and promising love, but all that changed one tragic day when her mother was killed under mysterious circumstances, plunging Arie’s life into dark and hopeless times where her lifelong friend, River, was her only beacon of light.
After years of numbness, a beautiful stranger, Ashe, entered her world and took her soul to places it had never been, across realities trapped within the worlds of fairy tales. Could he be her savior, or would she find the strength within to be her own?
Along her journey, she quickly unraveled the secret behind her uncanny connection with nature and her mother's killer. But one mystery remained—one of scripted destiny and the pull of the dark forces of life. Could she find the answers she needed before the next full moon? Or would death claim her as it had been painted in the fate of the stars?
 

While some may speculate that we fell in love with each other at our first kiss, I knew better. We were soul mates from birth. We shared our first kiss in the meadow on the day of my sixteenth birthday before my mom died. We lay on the grass as we had done that first time the butterflies blessed us with their magnificence on my seventh birthday. We did this on my birthday every year in hopes they would return. My birthday not only signified being a year older, but it was also our day. Every year River and I shared a private ritual and a hidden connection, until that kiss when the secret was exposed and our hearts were bound beyond platonic feelings. My mom’s death broke this ritual and the dream of a perfectly unflawed life together.
“Sixteen is a big one, you know.” He smiled softly.
“I know.” I looked over at him as he lay there with his eyes closed. He was beautiful. I knew handsome was the preferred word when describing the male species, but not for him. His face looked like it was chiseled by the most talented of sculptors. His hair was a sandy blond, and while it wasn’t long, it definitely couldn’t be called short. It had soft waves that fell perfectly around his face. His eyes were as blue as the sky, and his skin was fair like mine. His lips were full and, as soft as they looked, I wished for the first time that I could feel how soft they were against my own lips. His body was perfect. For someone whose only workout consisted of running a few times a week, he had a flawless physique. The football team was always trying to recruit him because he fit the mold of a jock. I asked him once why he didn’t participate in sports, and he just responded that they didn’t hold his interest. He liked his freedom and independence.
My body began to tingle all over. A light breeze sent shivers down my spine. I wanted to touch him, but not in the playful way we touched when we horsed around. I wanted to embrace him. I reached out my hand to touch his when the fluttering of wings filled my ears. I pulled my hand away quickly.
“River?”
He opened his eyes and stared at the return of the prodigal butterflies.
“Wow, they’re as beautiful as I remember them,” he whispered.
We sat up slowly and faced each other as we had done on my seventh birthday. Their return was a mystery. They circled around us, leaving us in the eye of the swarm. There were hundreds of them displaying every color imaginable on their wings. Some had stripes while others had splatters. Even the most talented artist could never capture the true brilliance of these magical creatures. They were flying so swiftly around us that the color of their wings looked like fresh paint being swirled in a can with a multitude of colors to make that perfect color combination.
I saw River staring at me as I watched the butterflies. I turned to him and got caught within the depths of his eyes. His stare bore deep into my soul. We sat like that for what seemed an eternity. My body burned from the inside out. My heart raced. My mind was anticipating what my body wanted. I couldn’t think. All I could do was stare into his eyes, begging for him to feel the same way. The butterflies continued to circle around us, but they seemed to be fluttering faster as if they were anticipating the moment, too. Right at the moment I thought my body was going to explode if something didn’t happen, he took his hand and grazed the side of my face. His touch sent electric shocks through my cheek and down my body. His hand followed my jawline, and his thumb outlined my lips on its way to my neck. He gripped the back of my neck gently and leaned into me as he pulled my face toward his. He paused and looked into my eyes as if waiting for me to say no. I didn’t think I could wait any longer. My heart was pounding so hard I could barely breathe. The eternal pause ended, and his lips brushed mine. I thought I was going to pass out as I inhaled him. How can one moment be so intense? He brushed his lips against mine for a few agonizing moments as if, again, waiting for me to protest. I couldn’t handle it anymore. I pressed my lips against his, and he responded. I felt like that kissed lasted for hours. It was soft and slow and perfect.
I wish I could say the moments after that kiss were just as perfect, but they weren’t. I thought that moment would change my life forever, but it was the moments after that would. I would never be the same. I would never be that innocent little girl in the meadow again.

I'm a...
Mom
Firefighter Wife
Sister
Sister-In-Law
Daughter
Aunt
Friend
Multi-genre Writer
Reader
and so many other ordinary things.
I love my life and am so grateful for all of the support. I have the courage to live a dream. Xo
 

June 18

June 19

June 22

June 23

June 24

June 25

June 26

 
 
 

Sixteen-year-old Madeline has been living on the streets, refusing to be part of the foster system. Biding her time until she's eighteen, with little to no money, she takes on a heist in hopes of making ends meet. What could possibly go wrong?
Everything.
Getting caught is just the beginning of Madeline's adventure as she meets Weston and discovers the secret of where she came from. A dark and sinister past begins to emerge, and forces Madeline to come face to face with the unexpected.
Is it possible that she isn't who she thought she was? What happens when she is has to accept the reality of what is actually real?
Recommended: 15+
 

 

I rush back up the dark stairwell, shoving the key into the doorknob. It takes a minute for the lock to click and I push myself inside the apartment, securing every lock and deadbolt. I can’t stay here in Hutchinson, Kansas any longer. Pulling my phone from my purse, I text Weston.
Tatiana is here. It’s not safe for me.
I grab the few belongings that have any value to me, sentimental or otherwise, and shove it into my shoulder bag, including the stolen silver necklace. It has value and if I’m forced on the run, I’ll need money to survive.
I know.
What did Weston mean he knew Tatiana is at the bar? Had he seen her? Is he there?
What do you mean, you know? I type into the phone. If he saw her, why didn’t he warn me? I can’t go down out the front door and it’s only a matter of time until she finds me just a few feet away. I grow restless waiting for an answer.
The phone buzzes and displays an incoming call from Weston. "Wes, tell me you’re here." The only thing to do is hop in his car and drive into the night, far from Kansas.
A female’s voice bubbles with laughter. "Oh he’s coming darling, but you should know he won’t get here in time. Amazing how easy it is to clone a phone number and steal his service. The advancements Stem Tech has made is encouraging."
 
 

Ruth Silver is the best-selling author of the Aberrant trilogy. With a passion for writing and a love of story-telling, Ruth is actively writing two series: Royal Reaper and Orenda. She also writes The Federal Agent Chronicles, an adult romance series under the name Ravyn Rayne for Blushing Books. Her interests include traveling, reading, and photography. Her favorite vacation destination is Australia. Ruth currently resides in Plainfield, Illinois.
 
 

 

June 1

June 2

June 3

June 4

June 5

June 8

June 9

June 10

June 11

June 12

June 15

June 16

June 17

June 18

June 19

June 22

June 23

June 24

June 25

June 26

June 29

June 30

Title: The Quest For Perkins Vale (Legendary Rockstars #3)

Author: L.B. Dunbar

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Date: June 22, 2015

Synopsis

I’m not sure I know what to think of the girl I’ve searched for since I was thirteen; she isn’t exactly how I remembered her. I’m twenty-five, a guy and a virgin. Yep, you read that right; I’m still a virgin. Why you ask? Because I met the woman of my dreams when she was still a girl and I’ve been searching for her ever since we met. I’ve saved myself for her, as I believe she saved herself for me. Why again? Because I will love her, like she will love me, when we finally meet, again. I’d like to think it was that simple, but I don’t really know if she will love me. I only hope she will. If she doesn’t, she won’t be the right girl for me, because like I said, I’ve been saving myself for the woman of my dreams. I just don’t know where she is…but I won’t stop searching until I find her. That is my mission. My quest.

Buy The Book

Excerpt

The Quest of Perkins Vale © L.B. Dunbar Perk walked to his bed and sat with a plop on the edge. It was going to be smaller than the king size bed in his home in the city, but if I thought about it, we slept close to each other every night when we were together. The smaller mattress would make no difference. “It seems that everywhere I turn, someone knew you. Someone knew where you were. I’ve been searching for you for twelve years, and I was the only one who didn’t know where you were, while everyone else did.” “Twelve years?” I asked, as I came to sit next to him. He rubbed a hand down his face and told me about a rainy night long ago in a decrypted home. He claimed he saw me, with Elaine and Elliott, at the side of my sick uncle’s bed. It seemed a mystery to me that the same man who found me in the tent, had been the boy I scolded outside my uncle’s manor house. It seemed a bit like destiny that he kept finding me, although I didn’t remember him as clearly. He was a boy at a confusing time. He was a teenager at a time of dismay. Now, he was a man. When his tale was complete, he looked a bit exhausted as if the weight of years got heavier instead of lifting off his shoulders. I was barely dressed as I left the bathroom in one of his large t-shirts. He undressed down to his boxers, which had become his custom and he covered us in his teenage bed. I had to giggle as I snuggled up to face him. “How many girls did you have in this thing?” I laughed, a bit bitterly with hope that the number wasn’t large. “None,” he said immediately. “Come on. No high school crush? Summer love? Stolen night or afternoon while your mother was away?” “No one ever. In this bed.” His words stunned me. Visions of Perk in hallways with women pinned to the wall and barrooms with girls on his lap filled my mind. “Other beds, huh?” I questioned in disbelief. I’d seen his room the first night I stayed. It was obvious someone had slept there with him. “No girl. No bed. Ever,” he repeated, staring up at the ceiling. He had one hand braced behind his head and the other lay between us, which wasn’t our customary position. I lay on my side, watching his body grow rigid with each part of my inquisition. “I saw your room that first night. You’d had a girl there. Maybe not to sleep over, but someone had been there.” Bitterness was fully in my mouth at this point, as I envisioned someone else sleeping with him in the same manner we slept. “No one in my bed. Before you,” he said, blowing out air. I could see his chest rising and falling exaggeratedly. If I didn’t know better, I thought he might be trying to calm himself as if he were about to explode at me. “Perk, honest, it’s okay. I get it. You’re a rock star. Women have thrown themselves at you. It happens, right?” I wasn’t as convinced as I tried to sound, as if this was okay with me. “Hollister, drop it. Please. There’s been no one else.” “It’s fine, don’t tell me. I’m sure you’ve lost count,” I said snippily. Suddenly he turned to face me and the old mattress jiggled under his weight. “I’m only going to say this once; one more time. There’s never been another woman in my bed. There’s never been any woman in any other bed with me. There hasn’t been any one else.” From the glow of the moonlight outside his unshaded window, I saw his chocolaty eyes sparkle. His face was firm as he emphasized each word. “Perkins, it’s okay…” “Hollister, drop it,” he interrupted. “I don’t need to know. I’m just…” “I’m a virgin,” he blurted. The words hung in the darkened room.

About The Author

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 Advice, Taste Test, Fragrance Free, Touch Screen, and the upcoming 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.

Facebook |Facebook Author Page | Amazon | TSU | Newsletter| Twitter | Pinterest |Goodreads | Booktropuloussocial | Blogger Website | Instagram

Buy The Book

Amazon | Barnes And Noble

Amazon | Barnes And Noble

Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

The club employed a woman who cooked and did grocery shopping several times a week as part of her job description, but Brash didn’t like to explain his relentless craving for peanuts and he liked being teased about it even less. He didn’t know whether it was the Vitamin B or the fat or just because he liked the taste, but he couldn’t imagine going a day without them.

That’s how he came to be standing statue still In the grocery checkout line, being prompted by some woman with more nerve than sense. While he was waiting, his eyes drifted over the magazine display and settled on the cover of “NOW”, on the Most Eligible Bachelor edition no less. The debonair figure staring back was wearing Brash’s own face and body. He looked different with short hair and a four thousand dollar suit with the shirt fashionably open at the neckline, but the similarity was inescapable.

On impulse he grabbed the magazine and tossed it onto the conveyor belt with his week’s stash of peanuts.

He stuffed the bags into the saddlebags of his bike and roared toward home, nervously tapping his fingers on handlebars at red lights, riding on shoulders to keep from slowing down. He was anxious to get to the privacy of his own room and read about Branach St. Germaine.

Two beers, one jar of peanuts, and one “NOW” article later, Brash was sitting on the edge of his bed looking at the wall, seeing nothing but his own heavy thoughts. He pulled out his phone, looked up a website, and waited on hold for ten minutes to hear the time of the next flight from Austin to New York.

There was a flight to Newark in a little over three hours. He looked at his watch and calculated the time it would take to drive from Dripping Springs at that time of day. As he booked the flight, he stood up, walked to the small closet, grabbed a duffel bag, and began shoving stuff into it. Ten minutes later, he closed his door and locked it, threw the duffel over his shoulder, and headed straight for the office downstairs. He dropped the duffel on the hallway floor beside the closed door and knocked.

“Yeah?” Brash looked inside, glad that his dad was by himself, and stepped in. “What’s up?”

“I’m takin’ personal time, Pop. Gonna be gone for a couple of days.”

“What the hell is ‘personal time’?”

The gruffness made Brash smile. “It means I’m not gonna be here if you call and I’m not tellin’ you why.”

The Sons of Sanctuary President looked up at Brash, over the top of his readers, and narrowed his eyes. “You got a secret?”

“Everybody’s got secrets.”

Brandon Fornight studied his son for a minute. “True enough. Is it the kind of secret that could affect this club?”

Brash shook his head. “Don’t see how.”

“Well, then. See you… When did you say you’d be back?”

“I didn’t.”

“Bein’ purposefully vague, are you?”

Brash grinned. “That’s why they call it personal time. But I expect to be back Friday.”

“You gonna have your phone with you?” When Brash nodded, Bran looked back down at his ledger in a deliberately dismissive gesture. “Well, get outta here then.”

Brash parked his bike in the airplane hangar. The structure had already been on the property when the club had bought it and turned it into a compound twenty years earlier. They used part of it for vehicle maintenance and repair and part for parking.

Some of the guys who were working looked over and shot curious glances his way when Brash threw his duffel into his pickup and started it up, but it wasn’t their way to ask questions. The Sons figured that if somebody wanted you to know something, they’d tell you.

Brash took a cab to a midtown hotel, wondering all the way why human beings would choose to live in such a place. As he slid his credit card across the hotel counter to the agent on duty, he glanced at the name, Brandon Fornight. It seemed unlikely that it was a coincidence that that the mysterious look-alike’s first name began with the same four letters. He ordered room service and pulled out his laptop.

Getting intel on the guy didn’t take advanced ops. Within an hour Brash knew where Brannach St. Germaine worked, what kind of car he drove, what kind of women he dated, who his tailor was, and where he liked to dine. There was no shortage of photos online, but the one that grabbed his attention wasn’t one of the many with starlets or debutantes on his arm. It was the one taken with his arm around his mother as they were arriving together for some red carpet fundraiser. Brash had an almost irresistible compulsion to reach up and touch her face on the screen in front of him.

The knock on the door signaled that room service had arrived. It cost a fortune, but looked and tasted like shit. So he closed the computer and went out for a walk to clear his head and find something edible.