I am beyond thrilled to have LB Dunbar and Perkins Vale here on the blog today, and even more excited to let you know we have an exclusive interview with Ms. Dunbar. So enjoy it all, and I will also include my review of Perk’s book at the end, and will revive my reviews of Arturo’s and Lansing’s books as well – this is a series you won’t want to miss a word of! (And we also have the first chapter of Perkin’s book to share in case you need any additional encouragement! )
Title: The Quest For Perkins Vale (Legendary Rock Star #3)
Author: L.B. Dunbar
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: June 22, 2015
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.
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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.”
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.
The surprise wasn’t hidden on my face.
“Joseph? I thought your uncle was Roy.”
She had a thoughtful, contemplative look for a moment.
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.
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Exclusive Author Interview!
I have said it before, and I am sure I will say it many more times, but the way you have brought the Arthurian legends into a modern day storyline is absolutely brilliant. Sure, I adore rock stars, but it is the perfect setting. So, I have to ask, how did the idea come about? Have you been a fan of King Arthur for years, or did it just come to mind and run from there?
I actually have been a fan of King Arthur for years. It all started as a student teaching assignment. My cooperating teacher wanted me to teach the class about Arthur to give background knowledge for a YA novel we were reading. I fell in love. I kept all the material and, in later years, when I had my own classroom, I taught The Legend of King Arthur to my students, relating it to Harry Potter and Star Wars. I jokingly thought if King Arthur lived today, he’d be a rock star. I was driving and had to pull over to start making notes. The story took over from there.
Three books in for us readers, and I know you have at least two more in the works, so I have to ask, do you have a favorite character? Or book in the series for that matter?
Of course, I love Arturo, but his story was easy to write. It was fun to research and twist the history to modernize it. The story that took me over the most was Tristan. Sigh. I love the take-off tale of “Tristan and Isolde” from the Arthurian original, and so his story is my favorite. I have to admit, however, I’m very proud of how Perkins’ quest turned out. I wasn’t as schooled in the story of Percival and had to do some more research for him. The hardest to write was Lansing’s story. I had to change it, as I wanted him to have a happily ever after, and I kept getting stuck until I thought of Lila.
Obviously the guys are based on King Arthur and his knights, but did you have any real life inspirations for their rock star personas?
Initially, it was Snow Patrol: their music and the lead singer’s looks. After that, it wasn’t so much a band, but music that kept the story going. I love FooFighters, GooGoo Dolls, Arctic Monkeys, Walk the Elephant…but as far as models go, Marlon Texiera (double sigh) is my Arturo King. Perkins is the one most in my head that I still can’t find an image to match.
Cream’s “Sunshine of Your Love” is mentioned in the book, and has come up in discussions in your Facebook groups. I am such a music lover, I have to ask if you have a playlist for Perkins? And since this is my first chance to interview you about the series, do you have playlists for the others as well?
Yes!! There is a playlist in the back of each book as well as the list is on my website (www.lbdunbar.com) and youtube (https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLGuDoQ4GwJ-cn0tI5nK7wW61icI-YYQ1N ).
I guess I probably shouldn’t ask about playlists without asking about dream casts? Who do you see playing the major roles if the series was made into a movie (or movies?)
Arturo – Marlon Texiera (model) or Kit Harrington (Jon Snow from “Game of Thrones”)
Lansing – yikes…I have no idea
Perkins – David Byers (model) or Charlie Hunnam with dark hair, maybe. He’d also have to shave it down.
Tristan – Jacey Elthalion (model) (sigh)
Can you share expected release dates for Tristan and Guinie’s books? Will the series continue beyond those two? (Personally I just can’t get enough.) I know you recently released the final book in your Sensations series. You have been amazingly prolific in the last year. Is there anything else in the works or is it time for a little break?
The Truth of Tristan Lyons comes out July 27th with the final book in the Legendary Rock Star series coming with The Trials of Guinevere DeGrance on September 15th. The Nights are not gone, though, as I will have a companion series with the girls from the 4Gs. Those strings can rock!! Although The Sensations Collection is over, the plan is a story of three friends, Katie Carter grown up, and an MMA with two brothers. Phew…I’m hoping that takes me through 2016.
Though I feel like I could keep asking questions indefinitely, I should probably be wrapping this up for now. I do love being involved in your Facebook groups. Would you like to share all your social media and internet links so readers can stalk, er, follow you?
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/lbdunbarauthor
Amazon Author: http://www.amazon.com/author/lbdunbar
Any upcoming promotional events?
Release day blitz for The Truth of Tristan Lyons: sign-up here — https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1VKj7w-I0kLuIvrhGtME39D-3M2DWgYAzqHfLuPHb9hc/viewform>
Feel free to join my two Facebook groups:
Novel Love Notes
Thanks so much for joining us today. It is absolutely my pleasure to take part in the promotion of this series I have come to love so much!
Thank you for participating in the blog tour. Perkins and I are most grateful.
Excerpt – Chapter 1
The Quest of Perkins Vale – LB DUNBAR 2015
The night of the concert…
Arturo King and I rode side by side. The Ducati Monster 1200 screamed under me while Arturo steered Lansing’s red Streetfigher 848. We raced through the dark night down the short, dimly lit avenue outside The Round Table, taking a quick left in unison to be joined by two other bikes. At first, I thought it was Mel Agent or someone who worked for Mel. Not putting it past the asshole, as he had already tried to kidnap Guinevere DeGrance, Arturo’s fiancée, almost a month ago. The adrenaline rushed through my body, vibrating with anger. Mel had slipped a date rape drug into Guinie’s drink and hiked her back to his apartment, in hopes of taking advantage of her.
Firmly pulling down on the throttle, I sensed Mel’s intentions were the same again tonight toward her: the girl on the back of my bike. The girl with her small hands gripping the back of my t-shirt under my leather jacket, refusing to wrap her arms around me, despite the fact her legs were hugging my thick thighs from behind. I would have felt safer for her if she had a better hold on me, securing her arms around me, but it was bad enough I forced her out of The Round Table with me.
Glancing at Arturo to my right, he signaled with his head to turn ahead. We took the next corner quickly, but the bikes behind us kept an even pace. They were close, but not too close. Yet. Arturo King was one of my best friends. He’d befriended me when few others did in those woods around Lake Avalon. He’d been the one to offer me a place in the band. He was the one who never laughed at my awkwardness. He seemed to understand who I was and who I wanted to be. I was indebted to the lead singer and songwriter of our band, The Nights, for many things. Now, I owed him one more.
He’d helped me get away, with the girl.
We cornered a turn again at the third left; not bothering to downshift to slow, and immediately sped through the alley. Arturo hit the throttle, making the engine of Lansing’s bike scream down the narrow space, clipping a trashcan to spill behind us, knowing that the two bikes were truly following us. The sound of a racing engine and the crash of tin cans on cement made a ruckus in the otherwise quiet area. I sensed Arturo’s plan to outrun our followers, and I kept a steady pace next to my partner. We barely downshifted as we reached the first crossroad off the alley, zipping across the, thankfully, abandoned street, with little more than a glance left or right. The girl finally slid her hands around my abs. For a brief second, I thought her hands might have lingered as they slipped around me, feeling the hardness of my stomach. Her palms were flat for a moment, and then she gripped my dark t-shirt in her small fists again as we bumped out into another cross street.
“They’re after me,” she yelled over the roar of the fierce engine.
I couldn’t be positive she was right, but I didn’t doubt it either. If these were Mel’s men, they wouldn’t stop until they got what Mel wanted. If he wanted the girl, he would do anything to get her.
“Drop me off,” she yelled.
Fuck no. I wouldn’t lose her again.
In a last minute decision, we turned again with Arturo twisting his neck to look behind us as we raced toward the thoroughfare near Central Park. Giving a quick nod to me, I looked over my shoulder, as well, to see the first biker skitter into the street before correcting himself. We took one more turn and I was convinced we might lose our pursuers. We hit the larger boulevard and collectively cranked our respective throttles, speeding over eighty miles per hour through the steady crowded New York City streets. Within seconds, I heard the sound of the approaching motorcycles.
“They’re gaining on us,” the girl yelled into my ear.
I glance d at Arturo again, who nodded his head for us to separate. I barely noticed that Arturo slowed slightly as if allowing me time to speed ahead and save the girl.
Continuing through the late night traffic, I downshifted to a more legal speed, as I noticed the other motorcycles followed Arturo. They hadn’t wanted the girl, after all, and were probably paparazzi of some type. Arturo King was good at dodging them, so I had faith in my fellow bandmate that he’d outrun the guys chasing behind. I turned the Ducati off the boulevard around Central Park, moments after our separation from Arturo, and headed toward a less reputable part of the city. The girl behind me had grown quiet after we separated from Arturo. If it weren’t for the solidness of her pressed against my back, I might have thought I was alone.
I sped the large bike down a side street that had the street sign stolen by some kids a week or two ago. On the right were several two-story buildings that housed some type of daytime business; the left side was an expanse of several low buildings, once warehouses, along the river’s dwindling bank. I didn’t bother to know what the business across the street from my building did during the day. Something that required people from nine to five was all I knew. But on my side of the street, one warehouse had been converted into a pet shelter. The other building was vacant. Then, there was my building in between.
I punched in a code to open the service-garage-looking door, with blackened windows, and rode the Ducati into the large industrial space. It was a statement of automotive art inside this garage. Pristine motorcycle parts dangled from the ceiling near a large black Cadillac SUV. A second Ducati Streetfighter, similar to the one Arturo rode that belonged to Lansing Lotte, was parked next to the shiny vehicle. A classic 1950 motorcycle, named The Black Shadow that belonged to my long ago mentor, was the pivotal statement to my love of bikes. This wasn’t an automotive shop or a bike garage; this was the place of honor to house my collection.
I pulled the Ducati Monster next to the red Streetfighter and cut the engine. I paused for a moment as the girl still sat astride behind me. Thinking I needed to help her off the bike before I could swing my large leg over the seat, I twisted slightly to look at her over my shoulder. Her head was moving slowly from side to side, taking in the space around her before her eyes met mine, or what I thought were her eyes meeting mine, as she still had on the helmet.
“I live in the back,” I offered, to assure her that we weren’t staying in a cold garage for the night.
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” she snipped, then slid her leg over the seat to stand to the side of the bike. Removing the helmet I’d given her to protect her, midnight black hair tumbled out of its confinement and cascaded over her shoulders. She wore an oversized army issue jacket, which I sensed was two sizes too big for her. Her shapely legs were covered by the length of the coat to her knees, but tight black leggings peeked out underneath. Those legs were strong, despite her average height, and matched my firm thighs as she sat behind me on the bike, clenching occasionally as we flew through the city streets. Black female combat boots that were meant to be stylish were scuffed and worn on her feet.
My eyes travelled back up to her face, and steel gray eyes looked into my dark brown ones. Nervously, I ran a hand over my nearly shaved head, feeling the soothing sensation of the short-cropped hair. Thinking of her comment, I didn’t respond as I swung my own leg off the bike and pointed in a direction for her to walk. I strolled behind her then reached around her to enter another code and open the solid security door to my living space.
I played the drums and they were the first things she could see as we entered my large open room. They were the focal point of my life. I’d purchased the warehouse because I couldn’t live anywhere else and practice at my will. An apartment had neighbors too close. A neighborhood wasn’t my thing. I could have built a house further outside the city, but I didn’t want to. I’d grown up in seclusion. I didn’t want to be alone again. The irony was I was alone in my warehouse home.
The drum set was the centerpiece to a room furnished with an oversized couch facing the kit and a large screen television on the wall behind the set. A workout bench, with weights, was slightly hidden behind the dark couch. Two large darkened windows were the only hint to outside. My kitchen was open to this living space with a large island being the only thing separating the two areas. There was no table for dining, but stools stood around two sides of the island. There was only one bedroom off the kitchen, which held a king-size bed and a tall dresser. I lived simply, sparsely, as if I could pack up and move in a matter of hours. But it was more than that. I didn’t need much. I liked life simple, compared to my upbringing. It was a strange combination of what I had and didn’t have.
“The bathroom’s over there.” I pointed toward a door that had a window of etched glass on the upper half. “If you want to clean up.”
She stood in my living area, still holding the motorcycle helmet against her middle as if a shield, protecting her from me. I knew I frightened her, despite her sharp tongue. My size alone was a lot to take in. I’d lost the baby fat I had as a young adolescent when I eventually went to high school. The taunting words of other children were cruel to a boy too large at a young age, and their insults inspired me to lose weight. Tristan Lyons, the fourth and final member of the band, was also a positive force in motivating me to work out daily. Tristan had the face of a male model and a body to match. He got girls instinctively, while I didn’t understand women at all. My experience with them was severely limited, despite the notoriety of my fellow band members. I had a reputation, though. One I didn’t think I quite deserved.
“So that’s it? I should freshen up, before…” She waved her delicate hand to motion between the two of us.
I was taken aback at her meaning for a moment until realization hit me, my face giving away my own embarrassment.
“You think I brought you here to…” I trailed off like she had, copying her hand gesture between us.
She nodded in response.
“Uhm. No,” I added after my face relaxed, and one side of my lips curled up in a crooked smile.
She was thoughtful for a moment, squinting those powerful gray eyes at me, before she replied,
Again I was shocked. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be with her in that way. Hell, I’d been dreaming of her for years, almost thirteen to be exact. But tonight wasn’t the night for that fantasy to play out.
“Would you like something to eat? Drink?” I asked, shifting the awkward conversation as I brushed passed her to the kitchen area and opened the industrial fridge door. I didn’t have much as I lived alone: a few beers, a couple bottles of water, a sports drink, and some orange juice.
“You’re offering me something to drink?” Her voice displayed her sheer puzzlement at my question.
Agreeing to take a water, I reached for two, unscrewing the cap on hers before handing the cool bottle to her. Her fingers brushed mine when she yanked the bottle from me, rather forcefully. My eyes jumped to her face, which showed no reaction to our physical contact. I, on the other hand, felt an electric spark travel directly to a body part I couldn’t control. I remembered the sensation from being around her before. It was an instantaneous response to her aggressive stance.
“So…what’s going on here?” she said, looking around the sparsely furnished room again.
“I live here…and you’re staying here tonight. To be safe.”
“Safe?!” she choked loudly on the word. “You just kidnapped me.”
“I…I did not,” I stammered, taking in the disgusted look on her face. Had I kidnapped her? Taken her against her will?
I stood there recalling quickly what had transpired in the bar before I had her on the back of the bike.
The Legend of Arturo King
It’s no secret that I am a complete sucker for a good rockstar romance. I have been hearing about this one for some time, and have “met” the author at a number of Facebook events. I read the synopsis and teasers numerous times and said “That one HAS to go on my to be read list.” Somewhere along the line I got my blog signed up for the cover reveal event for the second book in L B Dunbar’s Legendary Rock Stars series, The Story of Lansing Lotte. That fully caught my attention and I realized I could not wait another day to start reading this one.
In some ways I am glad I put it off, because I can honestly say that I can hardly wait for the release of The Story of Lansing Lotte now that I have finished The Legend of Arturo King. I am completely on edge with the cliff hanger this ends on! It borders on cruel an unusual punishment to have to wait another month! I have plenty of other books waiting to be read, but this story will be haunting me until I can find out what comes next.
The author has done extensive research on King Arthur and the Knights of The Roundtable for this modern day spin on the legend of yore. I am almost embarrassed to admit how little I remember of the classic tales, but in the larger picture it doesn’t matter because this book is devastatingly enchanting. I do recall enough to agree with her assessment that they would be rockstars in today’s world, and her spin is nothing short of genius.
So, yes, rockstars are my thing, and rockstar romances have become one of my favorite genres in recent years. It seems that there would be a limited number of directions an author could take the concept, which was the attitude I had in the back of my mind as I started reading. Leave any preconceived notions behind before you pick this one up. This one is refreshingly unique. Arthur is most definitely flawed, and honestly Guinie has her share of human flaws as well, but what they build together in this book is so pure it can soften the most jaded of hearts. There are plenty of adversaries and adversities facing them, but the organic heart of their feelings toward each other is portrayed with such intensity that it flows off the pages and into your soul.
The writing is top notch, the story is exciting, action packed, full of twists and turns, and the romance is beautiful. For mature audiences only for rather explicit sex scenes, but very highly recommended.
The Story of Lansing Lotte
Admittedly, I had been anxiously awaiting the release of this one after being sucked in by The Legend of Arturo King. I very happily signed up for the blog tour to get the ARC even though I had already preordered it – I was that anxious to get to see where the story would go next.
Another 5 star read without a doubt, though I will warn readers that you won’t get all your questions answered from the end of Arturo. I saw the author mention that we will return to Arturo and Guinie in the 5th book of the series, though there are some sightings within this one, and I imagine there will be in Perkins’ and Tristan’s tales. At first this may seem slightly disappointing, put that aside and get lost in Lansing. I think you will find, as I did, that you will find every bit as in love with him as you did with Arturo.
Lansing is known as “The Lady Killer”, and it is easy to see how that happened as we journey into his heart and soul. Maybe all his kindred spirits are simply biding time until “the one” crosses his path. And just maybe “the one” could be someone other that who he has convinced himself was “the one.” Get swept up in his discoveries about himself and the women in his life and all the messes he gets himself into over them.
Again, LB brings the King Arthur story seamlessly into the present. There is so much going on here, and I always try to avoid spoilers, but sink into this one when you don’t have to be up the next morning, I found it impossible to put down and am already greedily awaiting the next release on June 26 (which happens to be my birthday – happy birthday to me!)
Again, for mature audiences only, for sexual situations. If you liked Arturo, you will love Lansing every bit as much.
The Quest of Perkins Vale
We have established that I am completely in love with LB Dunbar’s Legendary Rockstars series,where she has modernized the King Arthur legends and has portrayed Art and his Knights as rockstars. This is the third book in the series, and my love has not wavered in the slightest.
Honestly, going into Perkin’s tale, I figured if there was one book in the series that I didn’t love quite as much, it would be this one. I can’t say the tale of a 25 year old virgin saving himself for some girl he once glimpsed in the woods in childhood sounded all that exciting to me. I stand corrected. This book is absolutely fantastic, and not only does justice to the rest of the series, it may push the bar just a little higher for Tristan and Guinie.
There is certainly no lag in action anywhere in this book. Hollister, the girl Perkins has been dreaming of for years, comes with quite a backstory of her own, and the last thing she wants to do is drag anyone else into her drama. i found her quite endearing, and perhaps my favorite female character thus far in the series. And, yes, Perkins himself grew on me in ways I never thought he would.
The points that this book crossover with the first two in the series are extremely well done as well. Ms. Dunbar is very talented in bringing a completely new point of view to roads already traveled to the point I really had to concentrate a bit to realize exactly when we were crosssing back.
Perhaps my favorite parts were the glimpses we get of Arturo. We know from Lansing’s book that he is alive and lurking around New York. I won’t say we get much more than that in this one, but what we do get leaves me even more anxious for Guinie’s book and the answers we have been waiting so long for.
Again, this book gets by highest recommendations, with the caveat that you really should read the other two books first, and with the note that they are all for mature audiences only for explicit sexual content.
Bring on Tristan!