by L. B. Dunbar
“What the fuck is he doing here?” Arturo demanded of no one in particular.
No one answered. We didn’t know.
Arturo moved forward, but was body blocked by Tristan again.
“Dude, let Perk handle it. He seemed to know the girl. Let him get her away.”
Something passed between Tristan and Arturo, a silent understanding, and Arturo relaxed. Lansing was missing as quickly as he dragged me to Arturo.
“Have Lansing give Perk his keys. I’ll head out with him. Tristan, get Guinie home for me.”
“What?” Tristan and I said in unison. Another private conversation took place between Tristan and Arturo’s eyes, and Tristan backed away.
“Arturo, no, please? I need to talk to you.” I was begging. That sickening feeling was coming over my skin again and I had a terrible sensation of something being not quite right.
“Guinie Girl, I’ll be home by the time you get there. Just let me get the girl out of here with Perk.”
“What? Why?” I was so confused. What girl? The girl Mel Agent was speaking to?
“Arturo, please. I really have to tell you something. It can’t wait. Let’s go home together.”
He leaned forward and kissed my forehead.
“I promise, you’ll have me all night. You can tell me whatever you like, however you like.” His smile was mischievous, clearly misreading my desperation. I suddenly knew I couldn’t let him leave, not without me.
“Please, Arturo, I don’t ask you for much, I don’t think, but I’m begging you. Don’t go right now.”
He looked at me in puzzlement, a quirky smile still on his face as if I was playing. Perk was behind me with the Army-coat girl under his arm and Arturo gave him a nod.
“Up the stairs. I’m right behind you.”
“Arturo,” I pleaded one last time.
He turned back to look at me. It was a look that would haunt me later. One of those looks that you don’t realize means the other person is soaking you in, embedding you in his memory, and you should have been doing the same thing.
“Guinevere, I love you, my Once and Future.” He kissed me so quickly, and so hard, I couldn’t speak, but before I regained myself, he was racing up the stairs and it hit me. The wind knocked out of me as I realized what he had done. He had said both parts.
The emergency door slammed shut and I jumped at the gunshot sound, as I knew him saying both parts was a sign of things going wrong.
Arturo
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Guinevere
It had been seven whole days since I saw him walk out of the Round Table. Seven whole days since he said those words wrong. Seven whole days since any of us knew what happened to Arturo King.
He never returned to the apartment that night. I called each of the guys frantically all night long. Kaye finally told me he would call me when he found him. Neither Tristan nor Lansing answered. Those two had remained in the bar and I could only assume they were too drunk or womanizing to answer. Instead of Tristan taking me to the apartment, I took a cab immediately upon Arturo’s exit. Perkins didn’t answer his phone the whole night either.
I hadn’t been to bed, but curled up on the couch to wait. I must have dozed off, but it was still dark, growing into light in the sky when Kaye knelt next to me on the floor.
“Guinie, honey, there’s been an accident.”
I didn’t move; I somehow knew. I had felt it take me over the night before.
“There was a chase of some type. Perk and Arturo were on motorcycles. At some point Perk must have broken away, or at least that’s what we hope. He hasn’t answered his phone and I even drove to his place, but there was no answer. Arturo’s … Arturo’s bike crashed. It … it’s…” Kaye had to take a deep breath and pinch his eyes shut. He wiped them briskly with his fingers and opened his brown eyes to peer into mine.
“The wreckage is almost unrecognizable. There was a lot of blood. When they finally let me through it…” He swallowed hard and decided not to tell me more. I was already crying silently and I could feel the wetness pool under my face against the couch pillow.
“The weirdest part is … Arturo’s missing, Guinie.”
He paused to let this sink in.
Missing? I didn’t understand.
“There was so much blood, but with no body. I don’t want to assume the worst, but I can’t explain it, honey. I don’t know where he is.”
Missing? I still didn’t understand.
“I need to make some calls. Hospitals. Police department. Fire department. We need to get the guys here. Can you do that? Can you call Leo, too?”
I must have looked as hysterical as I felt because my body was suddenly shaking uncontrollably. I was crying without sound and my body was moving without my permission. I somehow made it to the hallway powder room before I lost the contents of my stomach.
“Never mind, Guinie. I’m calling your dad.”
“Where’s Mure Linn?” I mumbled as I gripped the cool sink edge for support.
“He isn’t answering either, the bastard. He’s probably up to something.”
I opened the door to the bathroom and Kaye tried to embrace me, but I put my hand up as a shield. I didn’t want his touch. I didn’t want anyone’s touch. I wanted Arturo.
“Can you call the guys again? I tried all night, but none of them answered. Hopefully at this early hour, they’ll realize it’s serious,” Kaye asked.
I only nodded once in acknowledgement, and Kaye turned to enter Arturo’s office. I melted into the couch and called in turn each member of the Nights.
That was seven days ago. Now the band didn’t stay all day and night like they had the first few nights. They each take a turn, but the days have run together so much I didn’t know who was here when. Talia tried to make me eat and I followed her directions in such a fog I’d forgotten what I did when. I felt hollow inside and, despite the nausea, there was nothing to vomit. Dry heaves wracked my body daily, and I napped so fitfully I was never rested. An uneasy energy had taken me and I couldn’t focus on anything except where in the world Arturo could be.
The media reports had to be shut off. I couldn’t see the images of all the blood on the pavement or the crumbled mass of what used to be a motorcycle. It was registered in Lansing Lotte’s name and Kaye got the call first thinking it was Lansing. Somehow Kaye knew it couldn’t have been Lans, but was Arturo, and Kaye raced to the crime scene. It was a crime scene now officially. The police had determined that the accident might have been intentional, and the missing body made it an unsolved mystery.
Where did you take a body that lost that much blood? Who does such a thing as steal a person? I didn’t want to admit this could happen to Arturo. I knew I loved Arturo King and I didn’t want to imagine that anything could happen to him. He was my once. My future, and all I knew for certain was he wasn’t dead.
I felt that certainty in every part of my being. I felt so connected to Arturo King that I did not believe he could not be alive without me feeling that a part of me was dead. I wasn’t whole because he was missing, but I wasn’t dead, and I felt convinced that neither was he.
Mure Linn
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
I've known Arturo King his whole life. From the moment he was conceived and Ingrid needed my help, I knew he'd be special. He had much to gain when he was older and ready to take his claim.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
I mentored him as best I could when he proved he was ready to learn. I pushed his practice and encouraged his enthusiasm, knowing it would bring him success. His band, the Nights, seemed to fall into place. Lansing Lotte became his friend from the introduction by Nina. Perkins Vale was in the woods, waiting to learn his art. Tristan Lyons needed to find his way. Together, with the management of Kaye Sirs, their band played the Round Table, and a legend was born.
Beep.
B
eep.
Beep.
But fame can come with pain. That photographer was after the shot of a lifetime. Instead he might have taken a life. He was following too close. For what? A picture? A few thousand dollars? The girl? Either way, Arturo was too worried about Perk and the girl.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
It's always a girl. Arturo's made mistakes. Ana. Lace. Allora. Countless others. I warned him about Guinevere. Her father and Kaye were now in a position with Arturo to capture and rule Camelot Records, but Arturo claims it's love. True love.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
The machine measures a life potentially taken too young. The recovery could be difficult, if it becomes possible. At this point, I have done what I thought best, just like I always have for the boy. For now, he needs time. He has more to accomplish before his time is up ... and I have a duty to make sure his legend lives on.
In keeping with the traditional story of the Legend of King Arthur, I did the best I could to modernize the story. I had to draw the line at a few things. I have no interest in incestuous relationships (which Arthur had) or adulterous relations during marriage (which many of the characters of King Arthur and related tales include).
I often ponder at the idea of chivalry and the dedication of these men to be respectable when they all had questionable relationships. The problem with trying to be good is there is always the temptation to be bad. Unfortunately, that temptation in traditional literature is caused by women, and in modern literature it’s no different, whether the character is a rock star, or a billionaire, or a vampire. No matter what the temptation is, I want love to conquer all, so critique my literal following of these men's legends all you want. It's my interpretation and I want a happier ending for them all, women included.
I will credit Chretin de Troyes (French) for his original tale and Sir Thomas Mallory’s Le Morte d’Arthur (English) for the more popular legend. I cheated by using several other resources for story plot, such as Schmoop.com (one of my favorite teacher secrets), Roger Lancelyn Green’s interpretation King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table, and even the DK Eyewitness Classics King Arthur, as well as numerous websites about King Arthur and medieval classics.
Nothing conquers the world like music and if King Arthur lived today he’d be a rock star. Music unites people. It brings people together. It brings us to a good place, which was what Arthur and his knights tried to do. Be good. Do good. But like us all, Arthur and his men were human. They loved. They hated. And they made mistakes. Whether real people or not, Arthur and his men are a legend by today’s standards. Steeped in reality or filled with fiction, historians and Arthurian experts may never know all the details. This was not my purpose: to get it right. My purpose was to tell a story in a modern way by relating Arthur’s legend and those stories surrounding his men to our times. I may not have followed every path of the original knights, as I wanted happier endings for them all, but historical retellings and modern interpretations never told the same story twice in quite the same way either. One thing is certain, the legend of King Arthur lives on … and the Nights, with Arturo King as their leader, rock on as well.
First I need to thank some beta readers, especially the 3Ks: Kimmie, Katie, and Karen. With your enthusiasm, proofreading, and notes, Arturo’s story came alive in a better format. On that note, I need to thank Brenda Wright for her beautiful formatting, Kari Ayasha from Cover to Cover Design for another gorgeous cover, and Kristina Circelli from Red Road Editing for her edit skills.
I’m a bit modest to admit I have fans, so I just want to thank the amazing support of anyone who has read any of my books. Words of encouragement come to me from you on days when I need it most, and I’ve been so touched by your support in numerous ways. I love that you love my stories, and I plan to keep trying to please you with new ones.
To all the bloggers, and if I tried to list you all, I know I’d forget someone, so this is a blanket hug and love to each and every one of you who has posted a link, shared a teaser, or spread the word, you have my gratitude and loyalty forever. A special shout out to Enticing Journey, who has scheduled and organized several blog tours for me. I really appreciate the hard work that goes into recruiting other blogs to participate and promoting a raffle, so an extra hug to Jennifer and Ena.
Finally, my family: Mr. Dunbar, MD 1, MD2, JR, and A … for all the teasing you do of me for keeping my nose in the computer, my fingers typing while you talk, and my response of an uh-uhn … you know I love you more than any fictional family. You’re real and I wouldn’t trade you even when you want to trade me. XO.
I’d love to hear what you think of this story, so feel free to comment or follow me on:
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Feel free to use old fashion email to contact me at [email protected].
Gotta have a playlist for a book that about a rock star, so here’s mine for
The Legend of Arturo King, and the love of Arturo and Guinevere.
“Make This Go On Forever” - Snow Patrol
“Bittersweet Symphony” – Vitamin String Quartet
“Secrets” – OneRepublic
“Cannonball” – Lea Michele
“Chasing Cars” – Vitamin String Quartet
“Shut Your Eyes” – Snow Patrol
“All the Right Moves” – OneRepublic
“Empire” – Shakira
“I Won’t Let You Go” – Snow Patrol
“Hallelujah” – Vitamin String Quartet
“Magic” – Coldplay
“Battlefield” – Lea Michele
“Toxic” – Britney Spears
“All I Want Is You” – Vitamin String Quartet
“All I Want Is You” – U2
“If You Say So” – Lea Michele
“Set the Fire to the Third Bar” – Snow Patrol & Martha Wainwright
Special thank you to Snow Patrol for being my original inspiration in both image and song for the type of music Nights played and to Vitamin String Quartet for inspiring Guinevere and the concept of the 4G. Play on you music gods and goddesses.
It’s the day after.
Lansing Lotte is caught in bed, quite literally, with his pants down.
The Story of Lansing Lotte
I get it. I’ve heard the jokes. My name sounds like some Medieval character who was a hero. Hell, my best friend’s named Arturo King. Ring any medieval bells? But this is my story and I’m no hero. I also get the jokes. Lancelot is a play on the words lance and lot, and a lance refers to a sword which is a euphemism for dick. What does a man do with his dick? He fucks. A lot. So if my name is Lansing Lotte, I must be “fucking lot.” Get it? Fucking a lot? Which I’m not saying I don’t, that’s not the point. Another reference to something sexual. Get my point? Huh, I made a punny. But again this is my story, and I haven’t done anything funny. In fact, I’ve killed three women, and only one of them I loved. Yeah, that’s right? Not laughing now. It’s not funny. And I’m definitely no fucking hero.
Perkins Vale isn’t sure he knows what to think of the girl he’s searched for since he was thirteen; she isn’t exactly how he remembered her.
The Quest of Perkins Vale
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. 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.
A double release special brings the parallel stories of what happened next for two band members of the Nights and how they survive while they wonder if their leader did.
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. As author of the Sensations Collection: Sound Advice, Taste Test, Fragrance Free, and the upcoming, Touch Screen, she is also the author of the modern rock series Legendary Rock Stars beginning with The Legend of Arturo King. When not writing, she’s usually driving one of her four growing children somewhere. She grew up in Michigan, but has lived in Chicago for longer, calling it home with her husband and children.
