The Dubells Series by J.J. McAvoy – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

The Dubells Series by J.J. McAvoy – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com Mon, 25 Mar 2024 04:50:51 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.books2020.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png The Dubells Series by J.J. McAvoy – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com 32 32 Hathor and the Prince (The Dubells #3) Read Online J.J. McAvoy http://www.books2020.com/hathor-and-the-prince-the-dubells-3-read-online-j-j-mcavoy Mon, 25 Mar 2024 04:50:51 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/hathor-and-the-prince-the-dubells-3-read-online-j-j-mcavoy Genre: Alpha Male, Historical Fiction Authors: J.J. McAvoy Series: The Dubells Series by J.J. McAvoy
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Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)

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Hathor Du Bell is on her own path to find love in the third installment of J. J. McAvoy's Regency romance series, following Aphrodite and the Duke and Verity and the Forbidden Suitor.

Hathor Du Bell has always fought to break free from the shadow left by her revered older sister, Aphrodite. It has been two years since Hathor’s debut, and while Aphrodite is a duchess, Hathor has been left with the most boring, incomparable suitors of the ton. With the London season coming to a close, Hathor’s anxieties reach a peak. Will she be the only Du Bell unable to find her perfect match?

Then Hathor’s wildest dream comes true when the Queen announces she’ll be presenting Prince Wilhelm Augustus Karl Von Edward of Malrovia during the week-long society event at the Du Bells’ Belclere Castle. But the dream quickly crumbles when Hathor is face to face with the prince, and he is nothing like she imagined.

A flirtatious rivalry sparks a genuine romance, meanwhile Hathor fights to make a name of her own, despite society’s expectations of her. Amidst the grand balls and growing feelings, the final events of the season promise to be the most romantic and shocking of them all.

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1

Hathor

My name is Hathor Du Bell.

Not Heather, but Ha-ther. However, not a soul exists outside of my family and our servants who pronounces my name properly, so my papa instructed that I correct people each and every time, for he was quite proud of my name—Hathor, the Egyptian goddess of the sky, women, and love. As a child, I treasured nothing more than to listen to his tales of my ancient namesake. As an adult—well, as much of an adult as I was permitted to be—I felt quite goaded by the name, for my dear papa had left out one critical fact, which I realized on my own. The goddess Hathor was, and forever will be, in the shadow of the goddess Isis, and the Greek counterpart for Isis is Aphrodite—the name my papa bestowed upon my elder sister. Thus, I always found myself overflowing with a childish desire to outshine her.

It was a war I declared of my own volition.

A war my sister did not even acknowledge, yet she defeated me in every battle. My sister was supremely victorious whether it was in music, dancing, reading, languages…beauty. Just like her ancient namesake, Aphrodite, was the ideal, the very measure of accomplishment. It had been two years, one month, two weeks, one day, and five hours since she had become known as Her Grace, the Duchess of Everely. Her greatest triumph. And though I was truly happy for her, there existed in me a deep hurt, an unattended wound somewhere within that left me in anguish. I knew not where this wound was, but I was sure of my attacker.

It was Aphrodite.

Even now, despite the distance between us, I felt her sword striking once more.

“Pregnant!” my mama, Lady Deanna Du Bell, the Marchioness of Monthermer, all but proclaimed to us as she rushed into the study. “Aphrodite is pregnant!”

“Truly? How wonderful!” My father grinned, tossing his book onto the table in haste to see the letter my mother waved like a royal decree before us. If anyone knew anything about my father, Lord Charles Du Bell, the Marquess of Monthermer, it was that he did not toss books lightly.

“Yes, she is rather far along. She wished not to say anything until she was very well sure. Now that she is, she apologizes for not being able to make it this summer but assures us that despite persistent exhaustion and an insatiable appetite for bread-and-butter pudding, she is in good health.” My mother handed the letter to him, even though she had told him all its contents.

The grin on my father’s white face was so wide I could count every wrinkle. “If I remember correctly, you were similarly afflicted while pregnant with Damon. The whole estate smelled like a bakery for weeks.”

“Did someone say my name?” Damon questioned as he entered the study, carrying in his arms a small girl, not yet two, with light brown skin and the curliest brown hair. Immediately upon seeing her, my mother rushed to take her into her arms.

“Mini, you are going to be a big cousin soon.” My mother kissed her cheek. The girl’s name was actually Minerva, Minerva Du Bell, as Damon had sought to keep Father’s tradition of styling all daughters after goddesses. However, everyone had taken to calling her Mini, a nickname bestowed by none other than our youngest sister, Abena, who was most glad to have someone younger to order around now. Mini, though, had no clue what Mother rambled to her.

“Truly?” Damon smiled the same as our father as he stood next to him to see the letter. Over the years, I had noticed that while Damon looked completely like our mother, he had inherited all of our father’s personality traits—except book reading. Mother’s skin was a warm brown, just like Damon’s, and their eyes were the same shade of dark brown. “What grand news. I will write to Evander to congratulate him. If the boy is born before Christmas, maybe we will spend the new year with them at Everely since they cannot make it this summer.”

“The boy?” My father chuckled. “How are you so certain the child will be a boy?”

“Did you not say Mother was similar when pregnant with me? Odite always does everything in Mother’s image. Besides, Evander has a daughter already, so I’m sure a boy will supply some comfort,” Damon explained.

“Strange that you provided no such comfort with your birth, only greater concern.” My father chuckled, causing Damon to roll his eyes, which then fell upon me as I sat in the corner of the room behind my easel.

“Hathor? I did not even realize you were in here,” Damon said.

“Yes, I noticed. Mama did not either,” I replied as I sketched the book stacks behind them to the best of my ability.

“I very well did notice you, my dear. I was merely waiting for you to offer your excitement at this joyous news. Why are you just sitting there?” my mother said as she bounced Mini in her arms. And they all looked at me, waiting.

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Advertisement Verity and the Forbidden Suitor (The Dubells #2) Read Online J.J. McAvoy http://www.books2020.com/verity-and-the-forbidden-suitor-the-dubells-2-read-online-j-j-mcavoy Mon, 24 Apr 2023 15:56:02 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/verity-and-the-forbidden-suitor-the-dubells-2-read-online-j-j-mcavoy Genre: Alpha Male, Forbidden, Historical Fiction Authors: J.J. McAvoy Series: The Dubells Series by J.J. McAvoy
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Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 116547 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)

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A spirited and independent heiress defies the expectations of society to chase happily ever after in this irresistible romance from the author of Aphrodite and the Duke.

With her brother, the Duke of Everely, married off to the beautiful and charming Aphrodite Du Bell, Verity Eagleman feels more alone than ever within the cold halls of the family estate. So when she's invited to stay in the Du Bells' clamorous, boisterous home, she leaps at the chance.

When Verity crosses paths with Theodore Darrington, the doctor who saved her brother's life, she can't help but notice how her heart flutters anytime he is near. But as the estranged bastard son of the Marquess of Whitmear, Theodore is forbidden to pursue anyone of the noble set. Despite being popular amongst the ton for both his heroic efforts and handsome charm, Theodore knows that no amount of social capital will allow him to be with the woman he secretly loves. Luckily for him, Verity has never cared much for the rules of society. . . .

A forbidden romance blossoms as Verity and Theodore give in to their all-consuming passion, with any thought of scandal flung to the side. But when the concerns of their friends and family begin to loom over their love, will they truly be able to break the rules?

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1

Verity

I am not a Du Bell.

But oh, how I longed to be. Not for title or wealth, nor even prestige and influence, as my family name, Eagleman, held all the same to even greater extents as a dukedom. With the exception of being a princess, there is no higher birth a girl could have than my own. And I was very much aware of the many who envied my life. Despite the many scandals of my household—my father’s affairs and illegitimate son, my mother’s misery and then death, followed by my father’s wholly inappropriate marriage to my stepmother, a butcher’s daughter; not to mention Evander, my elder brother, and his own marriage mishaps—there was no shortage of people asserting how fortunate I was to be born Lady Verity Eagleman. But given the choice, I would have preferred to be born Lady Verity Du Bell. To be born into a home filled with warmth, laughter, and teasing. A home filled to the brim with overwhelming love.

Instead, love seemed to always evade me. As though it had some personal vendetta against me. Evander was the godson of the Marchioness of Monthermer, Lady Deanna Du Bell, and as such was afforded many opportunities to experience such tender emotions with the family. I, on the other hand, was kept away from them and society at the behest of my father. By the time he passed, Evander had made a mess of our connection with the Du Bells, and, consequently, no other chances presented themselves.

Now, as I watched the candlelight of my brother’s carriage fade into the darkness, taking him and his perfect new wife, Lady Aphrodite, to their long-awaited happily ever after, the opportunity had arrived, only I knew not how to stand before this family or society at all.

I was alone.

The name Verity means truth, and yet I felt as if I were nothing but a lie. In front of most people, I sought to appear confident, self-reliant, but the truth is I was afeard…of so much.

“I cannot believe it is done,” said the marquess to his wife, whom he held openly within his arms, as we all stood before the gates of their London estate.

“After all these years, you still underestimate me, my dear?” the marchioness replied with her head held high, appearing pleased with herself.

The marquess was a man of white skin and golden hair that was nearly all gray now, with sharp blue eyes that always seemed focused upon either his family or a book. His wife was the opposite of him, with rich brown skin deeper in shading than my own and curly brown hair that she kept pinned up neatly. Rather than books, her brown eyes read people with frightening accuracy.

“Underestimate? Never. Stand in awe of your power? Always. Well done, my dear.” He squeezed her arm slightly, making her laugh while their eldest son groaned.

Damon Du Bell, the Earl of Montagu, also stood beside his wife, Silva, whose face was a bit round with a nose a bit short, but her demeanor was pleasant. They were locked, arm in arm, very much a parallel set to his parents. The look on Damon’s face showed he was not keen on the elder couple’s public display of affection, even as he mimicked them.

“One would think that you would have some restraint at your ages,” Damon said to them as though he were the parent.

“Dear,” Silva muttered in apprehension.

“You should thank heaven we do not, or you would not exist,” his father replied, making the marchioness’s eyes widen.

“Charles!”

“Father!”

“What are you all talking about?” questioned the youngest Du Bell, Abena, her little face bunched in confusion. Alongside her were two of her sisters, Hathor and Devana, and her brother Hector.

“Nothing!” said the marchioness and her eldest son in unison.

“That does not seem like nothing,” Abena pressed, frowning. “Are you keeping a secret?”

“Yes, they are,” said Hathor, the second Du Bell daughter, causing Abena to look to her for an answer. “Mama and Papa were thinking of sending you off to a professional pot washer, seeing as how you’ve become so good at it of late.”

Hector and Devana giggled and then laughed outright as Abena looked at her parents in horror.

“No, Papa!” Abena ran to her father, holding on to his waist for dear life, which made the marquess bend to her level and hug her.

“She is merely teasing you,” he comforted her.

But at that moment, it was I who felt pain.

What must it have been like to hug one’s father, one’s own mother even?

I did not know.

I stood before one of the most prominent and amiable families in all the ton, one I had always wished to be a part of, yet now I desperately desired to escape their blissful company. The irony.

“Verity, my dear, are you well?” the marchioness asked, stepping away slightly from her husband toward me.

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