Title: Paradise Fought: Abel
Series: Paradise #1
Author: L.B. Dunbar
Genre: Contemporary New Adult Romance/MMA
Release Date: January 25, 2016
Blurb
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. Review
Betas come second, but in this fight, my story is first. Review
4.5
Who knew I'd fall in love with an MMA fighter who isn't the typical alpha. No, this one is almost the opposite. Sweet, shy, lack of confidence.. But what makes Abel's character anything but a follower? He doesn't want to be his brothers shadow anymore. He went through so much growing up, especially verbal abuse that played one of the biggest roles in his current mindset..
That background to Abel's life is a strong factor that influences the way he grows throughout the story.
He has such heartfelt possessive tenancies towards what he wants, what he needs to make his own, that it literally makes you grin like an idiot because you knew there was some sort of alpha in him ;) He might be sweet and not confident when it comes to "flirting" with girls but he knows what he has to make it. Being an MMA fighter and a great one at that also doesn't hurt in busting that confidence up..
Abel has a heart of gold. We see that from the very beginning and how it progresses throughout the story. He is one of those characters that makes your heart melt at the same time that you blush from the dominance that you can only ever wish was more than just on the pages.. *sigh*
From the very beginning we get a very soulful vibe between those two. Elma, from the very first pages, has an aura of darkness to her. I don't know how to put into words. It's just this feeling of sadness and emotional heartbreak from not only her brothers death but from the way the author almost made me tear up at the way Elma portrayed her future intentions.
From tears and pain, to the strongest sort of emotion that it seems only Abel from able to immediately witness through her eyes. I loved the continuous atmospheres that were created that somehow, in my point of view, exuded a contradiction. For example, at the very beginning we get Abel meeting a girl in the pouring rain, at a place that is meant to have all the elements that make it a worth while holiday; a place away from the stressful reality of life. BUT the only thing those two seem to be given? Grief. Sadness. Tears. Heartbreak. Darkness.
This continues throughout the story, which not only made it an addictive read but it added a realistic element that further connected the reader with the characters and the story they were developing..
One part that I wasn't so in love with, the minor element of lack of mystery. I mean, I wouldn't be addicted to a story or give it a near perfect review if I didn't love it. I just felt that maybe some aspects that were talked about earlier weren't foreshadowing future events.. This is completely my opinion, and maybe I've just read too many MMA stories, but I just wish there was simply more surprise in a few parts of the story. OTHER THAN THAT? I. Loved. It. Can I have my very own Abel please? Wouldn't mind showing up at his practice.. uhm.. session.. :P
As mentioned, I've read my fare share of MMA stories, which next to MC is one of my favorite genres - if done well. And PARADISE FOUGHT:ABEL? Hands down in the DONE VERY WELL category :)
Now, the waiting game for book 2...
Thank you L.B. Dunbar for providing an ARC of this beautiful dark, soulful, heartbreaking and sexy read. I couldn't have asked for a better addictive read on my Monday ;)
xx
Links to Buy
Excerpt
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.
“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.”
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