by elda lore
“I could send you back again,” Solis offered. His voice was close. He stood behind me, looking over my shoulder. I shook my head.
“My heart can’t take the pain.” My eyes could not produce tears like a human’s, but moisture built. For most of my life I didn’t understand tears, other than those offered at death. She taught me they came from heartbreak. I cherished what we had as a snapshot framed in my mind. A piece of time, collected and stored, and treasured under glass. I would love her for all of eternity. I would not let the cycle repeat. I would not cause her to return to me when her destiny was to be carefree. Someday, I’d stand before her, and hope she’d allow me to hold her again. Until then, time must pass, she must live, and I will wait.
Acknowledgements
Thank you for taking a chance on me as elda lore, the alter ego to my contemporary romance writing as L.B. Dunbar.
Any tale takes a village, and this one was no different. I must thank a new crew of women who helped me try to be the best I could be.
It all began a long, long time ago…just kidding. It began with a conversation across the table from Michelle Mankin (NYT Bestselling Author of The Tempest Rock Star series) where we discovered our mutual love of all things fantasy. From that conversation, I held onto the morsel of inspiration she gave me to “try” to write fantasy after I said I didn’t think I ever could. Never say never, the saying goes. Michelle was also encouraging through beta reads.
Michelle Lynn (USA Today Bestselling Author of the Don’t Let Go series) and my editor, Kiezha Ferrell Smith were also highly inspirational. These women helped me make this story the best it could be from me.
Also included in my village of support was Amy Queau of Q Design for an edgy, exciting, enticing cover.
Thank you to Karen Fischer for her continual proofreading expertise, and to Ella Stewart and Sylvia Schneider for another set of eyes. Not only is Sylvia another pair of eyes, but she is my right hand at times. Words will never be enough to thank you in making this book one of my best releases ever.
As always, I must thank my family: Mr. Dunbar, MD1, MD2, JR and A, but a little extra shout-out to MD2, my lover of all things fantasy and the only reader of my four children. She beta read this book first because if couldn’t get her approval, I wasn’t going to get anyone’s. Thank you my Dr. Who-Harry Potter-Alice-in-Wonderland girl. Your support means everything to me.
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What’s next for the Modern Descendants?
SOLIS
Blurb:
Veva Matron is a feisty girl raging with suppressed anger and distrust of men.
Solis Cronus is a blindingly beautiful, Greek god of a guy, who likes to play women.
An electric hatred thunders through each of them about the other until one night, lightning strikes. A world of secrets reveals the destiny of two at odds with one another, and clouds the line between love and hate. Can a lively girl find calm in the stormy tension of a boy made of sunshine and sin?
The mythical tale of Zeus and Hera reignites in this modern interpretation of enemies to lovers. Full of flirty, sexual angst and teasing temptation, Solis might be the one man who can extinguish Veva’s angry fire and ignite a different sort of flame: desire.
Chapter One -
Veva
“It’s so hot.”
“He’s hot.” My best friend, practically my sister, dragged her voice as her eyes focused on the opposite side of the pool. Persephone Fields may have a broken heart, but her eyes still worked, and I lowered my sunglasses down the bridge of my nose to take in the view.
“Mm…mmm…mm…” I murmured, observing the Greek god of a man lounging in the lifeguard chair. Blond, shoulder- length hair and tan, washboard abs dressed him, along with a bright orange swimsuit.
“Veva, I think he’s looking at you,” Persephone teased, and I instantly covered my eyes. As he slouched in the seat, all six feet plus of casualness, he had player written all over him, and I wasn’t interested. I did the playing, and I’d recently been burned. I scanned the pool area to make it appear as if I was looking for someone.
Zeke Cronus owned a sprawling estate in the heart of California’s Central Valley, a place hotter than hell and still as a statue. As an olive grower, his company, Olympic Olive Oil, made him billions, and the wealth of his estate proved it. The Olympic-size pool filled a large portion of his immediate backyard. The striking tile and extreme length reminded me of a Roman bath I’d read about in a history book. The water was the bluest blue I’d ever seen, and the temperature was a slice of heaven compared to the heat.
More resort feeling than private home, Zeke had many visitors. He wasn’t officially my uncle, but he was practically family. He was best friend to my mother, Hera, and Persephone’s mother, Demi. His queens, he called us ladies back in Nebraska, but secretly, or not so secretly, Zeke had a plethora of women, and a multitude of children to prove it. It was the one reason Zeke and my mother never hooked up. As a child, I made up stories that Zeke was my father, but the sibling friendship between Zeke and my mother just made the thought creepy.
My head rotated back in the direction of the lifeguard stand. Ostentatious, the pool was so large it needed a lifeguard. My eyes roamed upward, and despite the shield of my aviators, I was pinned. His gaze froze mine and I shivered in spite of the more than one-hundred-degree heat index. Quickly turning away, I heard Persephone laugh beside me in her lounge chair.
“Don’t make it so obvious,” she teased. “Be subtle.”
Subtle was something I’d never done. While my fun-loving friend had simmered a little after losing Harris Black, she was the epitome of cool. Blonde hair, bark-brown eyes, lanky and lean, her appearance would inspire poems. I, on the other hand, was a hothead. My dull brown hair and curvy figure forced me to have an attitude. Lively, Persephone called me. Tempered, my mother corrected. My mother was closer to the truth. In anger, I got the vibrant tattoo that wrapped around my thigh and down to my ankle. Varying shades of blue and rich, thick versions of green nearly covered one leg.
My body was a temple, and I was willing to share, as long as I got satisfaction from those who worshipped at it. That lifeguard looked like a player, and while I knew how to play, I wasn’t tempted. Men like him only knew how to break hearts, my mother would warn. She hated men.
“You’re staring, again,” Persephone laughed while she leaned back and soaked up the blistering Californian sun.
“I am not,” I snipped. Her head rolled in my direction and I snapped mine toward her. She laughed again. “Okay, fine. It doesn’t hurt to look.”
“Nope, doesn’t hurt.” Her voice faded. She’d lost someone she loved, and my heart pinched for two reasons: to love someone, to lose someone. I’d never known either emotion, but I didn’t plan to either. While I was a lover, I didn’t love, so I couldn’t lose. It was that simple.
“Blue devil?” A deep, rich voice startled me, and I turned to face a tray with two glasses, each filled with a light blue-colored liquor.
“What?” Persephone choked, and I spun back in her direction. Her wide eyes looked like she’d seen a ghost. Her tan face was suddenly devoid of color.
“Persephone?” I swung my legs off the chair to sit upward and face her. My hand reached for her arm. The man serving drinks dragged a low table closer to
us and set down the tray. Helping himself to a seat at the end of my lounger, he spoke in that deep tenor again.
“What did I say?”
I turned to face him, and lightning strike me, it was the lifeguard.
“Nothing.” Persephone’s weak voice tried to assure both of us. Her head nodded for the drink. “What’s that?”
“It’s called a blue devil. It’s basically a fruity drink with overpriced rum.” His laughter followed, and it boomed like someone playing a drum. My chair vibrated with the jolt of his body chuckling.
“And who are you?” I sneered, wondering how the help were comfortable sitting down with a guest. Zeke had so many servants, and typically I didn’t look down my nose at any of them, but something about the nearness of this one made my skin prickle.
“Did you say Persephone?” Ignoring me, his brows rose and honey-colored eyes opened wide. Mesmerized by the color, I stared. It was the strangest color I’d ever seen. I blinked when he caught me and quickly turned away.
“Yes, Persephone Fields.” My oldest friend held out her hand, and the lifeguard started at the presentation.
“He’d kill me,” he muttered and Persephone and my eyes met. Cuckoo, I signaled by swirling my finger around my left ear. Turning back in my direction, he caught me, and I slipped my finger into my hair, twirling it tightly around my index finger. A fake smile pinched my face. A large one graced his.
“And you are?” He addressed me, and my tongue froze. I hadn’t even sipped the tempting drink, but my mouth grew cold, like I’d sucked down a popsicle and couldn’t speak.
“Veva,” Persephone introduced me. “Veva Matron.”
“Ah, you two are Hera and Demi’s daughters. I’ve heard so much about you.” His face brightened further and he winked at me. I turned away again. My eyes focused on the magazine under Persephone’s chair. Test your ability to tempt a guy, the headline read. His presence tested me and anger roiled inside me. The urge to punch him grew under my skin. There was something about him putting me on edge.
“So Veva.” He let my name roll over his tongue, emphasizing the vee sounds in an exaggerated accent. Boys had done this before, but the way he said it vibrated between my legs. I clamped my thighs together by crossing them. I sat up straighter and rested to the side on one hand, peering at him behind my glasses.
“Veva, meaning life?” Brilliant. He wasn’t only blond, he was a genius, I mocked, but those intense eyes left my tongue icy. My only response was a nod.
“Can’t you speak?” His smile grew like I was a simpleton, and the thought shocked me out of my frozen state.
“Yes, I can speak, and who are you anyway?” My tone was bitter, sharp and stabbing, although I don’t know why. I was so riled by his nearness, and the arm supporting me shook.
“Solis. Solis Cronus.”
Contemporary Romances by L.B. Dunbar
The Sensations Collection
Small town, sweet and sexy stories of family and love.
Sound Advice
Taste Test
Fragrance Free
Touch Screen
Sight Words
The Legendary Rock Star Series
Rock star mayhem in the tradition of King Arthur.
A classic tale with a modern twist of romance and suspense.
The Legend of Arturo King
The Story of Lansing Lotte
The Quest of Perkins Vale
The Truth of Tristan Lyons
The Trials of Guinevere DeGrance
Paradise Stories
MMA chaos of biblical proportion between two brothers and
the fight for love.
Paradise Tempted: The Beginning
Paradise Fought: Abel
Paradise Found: Cain
Stand Alone
A rom-com story for the over forty.
The Sex Education of M.E.
About the Author
Meet elda lore, the alter ego of the contemporary romance author, L.B. Dunbar. As elda lore, the classic world of mythology is captured and retold in modern tales, rekindling stories of endless love. Her enjoyment of fantastical romance began the moment the Beast gave Beauty a library. Continue to join her on her journey through paranormal romance where love is timeless.