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.
Betas come second, but in this fight, my story is first.
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really liked it
"I'd been fighting the wrong fight. Without realising it, the thing I needed to fight for wasn't in the ring. It was in my heart."
Choosing his underground name as he feels a connection to the solitary Siamese fighting fish Betta is the new and talented fighter, the one to watch. Hiding in plain sight, Abel is the unseen brother, using his ambiguity to his favour he has started to put the wheels in motion to move lit from underneath his brother's shadow. Damaged by a childhood devoid of love in an conventional sense Abel is reserved and inexperienced in social situations. Raised by his father who changed his focus from being the best fighter to raising the best fighter, Abel feels he is not worthy. Told repeatedly he would never be good enough Abel has devised a plan to prove to his father that he is just as capable as his older brother.
Elma is floundering. After the death of her brother during a fight in the ding she has been left picking up the pieces. Struggling to make ends meet and care for her mother who has just herself in alcohol due to her grief and depression, Elma is close to giving up. Falling apart at the seems she is using her dancing talent to make the rent but is devastated when her tuition fees have been squandered by her mother. An offer she can't refuse changes her plans and sets her on a new path in her life. But rules are meant to be broken and Elma learns a lot about herself as she tries to teach Abel how to be the perfect woman magnet.
This story is rich with imagery and the language techniques used creates an air of mystery. The lead protagonists are complex, damaged by their upbringings and their current circumstances, both fighting to make the next day better than the last. Elma has her heart set for revenge but for all the wrong reasons, lashing out and not dealing with her grief and loss. Yet she isn't exactly who she pretends to be. Abel, wears his heart on his sleeve, he's desperate to be accepted as he is. He wants to be loved and told he is good enough. The extreme lengths he is willing to go to show how determined he is to gain approval. His family...I have a feeling their resolution will come in the next book when we get Cain's story. Briefly touched upon Abel is his mother's son and earned his father's hatred for nothing other than the resemblance. This is story filled with angst, drama and heart break.
A four star read.
~*~ Obsessed by Books copy given in exchange for an honest review ~*~
Choosing his underground name as he feels a connection to the solitary Siamese fighting fish Betta is the new and talented fighter, the one to watch. Hiding in plain sight, Abel is the unseen brother, using his ambiguity to his favour he has started to put the wheels in motion to move lit from underneath his brother's shadow. Damaged by a childhood devoid of love in an conventional sense Abel is reserved and inexperienced in social situations. Raised by his father who changed his focus from being the best fighter to raising the best fighter, Abel feels he is not worthy. Told repeatedly he would never be good enough Abel has devised a plan to prove to his father that he is just as capable as his older brother.
Elma is floundering. After the death of her brother during a fight in the ding she has been left picking up the pieces. Struggling to make ends meet and care for her mother who has just herself in alcohol due to her grief and depression, Elma is close to giving up. Falling apart at the seems she is using her dancing talent to make the rent but is devastated when her tuition fees have been squandered by her mother. An offer she can't refuse changes her plans and sets her on a new path in her life. But rules are meant to be broken and Elma learns a lot about herself as she tries to teach Abel how to be the perfect woman magnet.
This story is rich with imagery and the language techniques used creates an air of mystery. The lead protagonists are complex, damaged by their upbringings and their current circumstances, both fighting to make the next day better than the last. Elma has her heart set for revenge but for all the wrong reasons, lashing out and not dealing with her grief and loss. Yet she isn't exactly who she pretends to be. Abel, wears his heart on his sleeve, he's desperate to be accepted as he is. He wants to be loved and told he is good enough. The extreme lengths he is willing to go to show how determined he is to gain approval. His family...I have a feeling their resolution will come in the next book when we get Cain's story. Briefly touched upon Abel is his mother's son and earned his father's hatred for nothing other than the resemblance. This is story filled with angst, drama and heart break.
A four star read.
~*~ Obsessed by Books copy given in exchange for an honest review ~*~
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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