ALL ABOUT THIS BOOK!
Title: The Legend of Arturo King
Series: Legendary Rock Stars #1
Author: L.B. Dunbar
Genre: Adult, Contemporary Romance
Release Date: January 27, 2015
Page Count: 350
Our Rating: 4 Stars
My name is Arturo King, and I’m told I’m a legend in music. My band is called the Nights and we got our start at the underground Round Table in New York City. Raised by a foster father, I didn’t know the extent of my inheritance until I was twenty-one, and it was all more than I bargained for. I wanted to play the guitar and rule the world with song, but I learned I have a mother from old money, a dead father who was once a real estate mogul, and a record company that needed some rebuilding. Mure Linn, my friend and mentor, has been by my side through it all, teaching me to play, strengthening my lyrics, and guiding me in the music industry. There was one area he couldn’t guide me, though, and that was love. Guinevere DeGrance changed everything for me, I suppose, including the reason I’m here learning the legend of my life without remembering any of it.
The legendary rock star series begins...
Amazon CA: http://goo.gl/yVQl1Q
Amazon UK: http://goo.gl/55gUwR
Amazon AU: http://goo.gl/vTSj7a
iTunes: Coming Soon
She was a vision in white. Literally. Her long flowing dress stood out amongst the crowd of dark T-shirts, darker jeans, and occasional bare skin. Her skin was bare in places as well. Slender arms hung at her sides, completely exposed. The pull of the dress bodice was up around her neck in some fashion that also exposed her shoulders, an area that I found could be very sensitive on a woman. Her shoulders just might redefine sensual in my brief opinion as I further took her in. The dress fell to the floor, but I could sense that those hidden legs were long, and the way the dress hugged the undisclosed portions of her body, I knew she was slender, sleek, and sumptuous in all the right places. Her hair looked dark, long and wavy, but the blue glow of the floor lights hinted at some brighter highlights.
I couldn’t make out the color of her eyes at first, but then she stepped forward under a light as if she were coming to me. They were lake blue and I felt them pierce my soul. I saw a sparkle in them as my own locked with hers. She stood still for a moment, suddenly frozen in my trance. I watched her lick her lips and I felt that lick in my pants. I didn’t want to look away as a wave of … something … crawled through my body, but she did.
She turned to her left, but I couldn’t see who stood there in the shadows. Her head returned forward and she seemed to be listening to the guitar, taking in the stage, but refusing to look again in my direction. I felt like I was willing her to notice me instead of the blank stare she focused above the bands’ heads. I almost turned to see what could be so interesting behind me. Almost, but I didn’t dare to look away from her.
She moved after a slight shift again from her left. She was obviously parting ways from someone near her and she slowly made her way through the crowded pit floor. As if the audience knew someone otherworldly was within their presence, the crowd parted slowly as she approached each person, making a clean-cut line across the wooden floorboards without another glance in the direction of the stage. Watching her walk sparked an extra beat in my heart and a throb in my pants. If she was sensual just crossing the floor, I dared to imagine what she would be like in my bed.
My vision focused solely on her subtle movement. Silky, I would have described her. She moved slowly, as if she were a ribbon sliding, slipping, through dark water. The white dress continued to glow from the dim blue lights, accentuating her slither through the waves of people. I was only vaguely aware of the guitar riff coming to an end at my left and I reached blindly for the microphone. This was a move that took no thought for me. It was as natural as breathing to hold the warm metal. I felt a slight catch in my throat as the words were climbing to escape my vocal cords. Lans hit his last note and I held my breath for the pause before a new cord was hit and the words burst forth.
It was the last look, of last night
In the last moment,
That took my breath and made me see
You might be lost before you found me.
You cried my name, as you came,
I took that pain and
Made you see, you might be lost,
But you found me.
My own words took on new meaning as I trailed her final motion. This tune had a new emphasis and I knew I was singing to her like a siren calls a sailor. There was just something about her presence, even if I felt she was suddenly ignoring me. She seemed to pause as I poured myself into those lyrics. You found me echoed in my head as I pinned her with my eyes. She moved her long hair over one shoulder, causing me to suck in a breath at the full exposure of her alabaster back. From behind, she was completely revealed; only a slip of cloth at her neck must hold the dress over those supple breasts I massaged with my eyes moments ago, and even without full light I knew that toned back held dimples at the base above the low sling of material that clung to her backside and draped down to the floor.
I noticed her breathing was slightly accelerated as her graceful shoulders lifted like a shrug and it certainly couldn’t be from overexertion crossing the crowded bar floor. She moved as if she floated. She had not returned my gaze, which I knew she must feel caressing across her soft skin. It could only mean one thing to my veteran assessment of women. She wasn’t interested, and that never happened to me. Women were always interested in me.
I realized suddenly where she stood. She had paused before a door to the left of the bar. I knew this door. It was made to blend seamlessly into the wall, looking like heavy olden bricks, like the surrounding walls. Only the keypad to the right gave away any semblance of a passageway. A person needed a special access code to pass through that door into the hall behind.
I watched her press her fingers deftly across the silver numbers and push the door gently inward into a darkened passage beyond without a single glance back over those sexy shoulders in my direction. I had to know who she was as the door closed, cutting off my view of her. It was almost instantaneous that I knew I wanted her, but this whole scene could only mean two things were true: she was somehow connected to Leo DeGrance, and she didn’t want me. And I believed them both. Almost.
Arturo King is the lead singer in a legendary rock band. He's known as the bad boy of the group, until he sees a vision in white. This is where the rock story changes. Adding in the dynamics of the band, including his best friend Lansing Lotte, and an diverse array of characters, L.B. Dunbar creates a new romance that fits in today.
BUT this does not follow the outline of most romances. As a matter of fact, this is not a happily ever after story - which is one of the reasons I loved it. It is full of mystery and intrigue and antagonists that are full of surprises.
This was not the typical rock star romance, and I want more! This was a 4.5 stars for me, until I figured out the King Arthur references (duh) which had me doing research on the legend even more and changed my rating to 5-stars!
The Legend of Arturo King by L.B. Dunbar is the first book in her new series Legendary Rock Series. Dunbar had done a great job promoting this book, so I was excited to see that I was having the opportunity to be on the Blog Tour and review this book.
Arturo King is a great musician and he had been raised all of his life by a foster father. All he ever wanted to do is play his guitar, so he got exceptionally good! He is sexy, arrogant, a$$hole- typical wanna be rock star. He hasn't made it there yet, but he is close.
Guinever is the daughter of a club owner/music guru, that has been purposely kept away from her dad's businesses, is a smart talented girl. She is sophisticated, plays the cello and to Arturo she was angelic. She has a caring heart and has such compassion, which is what Arturo is lacking.
Dunbar developed these two characters well, I felt like I knew them, which since that who this story was about is good. She lay some ground work for her characters and their upcoming stories. When I think of someone being legendary and they are a rock star, I think of them as being like the Beatles, Elvis,or the Rolling Stones in today's music that would be Linkin Park or Snow Patrol . As far as Arturo being "legendary" - I never got that feeling from this story. Other than he was exceptionally good on the guitar and maybe being a legendary a$$hole womanizer, he hasn't really made it in the music world yet. Arturo does start to get better by the end of the book thanks to Guinever, and him wanting to be a better man for her.
I give The Legend of Arturo King 4 stars.
As a teenager, I wrote your typical love-angst poetry that did occasionally win me an award and honor me with addressing my senior high school class at our Baccalaureate Mass. I didn’t keep a journal because I was too afraid my mom would find it in the mattress where I kept my copy of Judy Blume’s Forever that I wasn’t allowed to read as a twelve year old.
I can say that books have been my life. I’m a reader. I loved to read the day I discovered “The Three Bears” as a first grader, and ever since then, the written word has been my friend. Books were an escape for me. An adventure to the unknown. A love affair I’d never know. I could be lost for hours in a book.
So why writing now? I had a story to tell. It haunted me from the moment I decided if I just wrote it down it would go away. But it didn’t. Three years after writing the first draft, a sign (yes, I believe in them) told me to fix up that draft and work the process to have it published. That’s what I did. But one story let to another, and another, and another. Then a new idea came into my head and a new storyline was created.
I was accused (that’s the correct word) of having an overactive imagination as a child, as if that was a bad thing. I’ve also been accused of having the personality of a Jack Russell terrier, full of energy, unable to relax, and always one step ahead. What can I say other than I have stories to tell and I think you’ll like them. If you don’t, that’s okay. We all have our book boyfriends. We all have our favorites. Whatever you do, though, take time for yourself and read a book.