Don’t judge me.
I am not what you see.
I am the opposite.
—Nadia’s lipstick note on Bo’s mirror.
Indie-rocker Bo Lindgren is worshiped for his looks and musical genius. It’s been lonely at the top since his ex left. Bo will never take a girlfriend again though, because he doesn’t have the chops to love. He knows he’s poison, a heartbreak waiting to happen for anyone he allows too close—like his ex. Bo screws his way through the fangirls until he’s sick of it all. Until the dark gaze of Nadia Vidal appears in the door to his dressing room.
Saved from an arranged marriage by Jude, the love of her life, Nadia eloped and got married at nineteen. But now, two years later, life is wilted, dead, and not what anyone should have to endure.
Nadia, with her secret-keeper eyes and instant understanding of who Bo is, attracts and fascinates him without even trying. The ring gleaming on her finger should keep them apart, but morals can’t always resist destiny.
When brokenhearted meets heartbreaker, whose heart is really at stake?
~*~
The door flies open the way it always does in dressing rooms during Clown Irruption concerts. First in comes Emil. He’s long-distance-fighting with Zoe on the phone, brows drawn and trying to explain that he has been in the air or in airports all this time. Next, comes Troll, rumbling out, “Ready? We’re going straight from sound-check to doors.”
Emil scoffs, covering his ear against the tour manager. “Zee. I told you I wanted you to come along, and no, I’m not going to sleep with all of Nadia’s cousins.”
Bo snickers.
“What?” Emil presses the phone against his ear. “Of course I didn’t manage on the first try—I was chasing a moving target. You have to stay still. You can’t wiggle your butt when I’m trying to get in, Zoay.”
“TMI?” Bo suggests. I nod, feeling a blush spreading at their typical indiscretion.
“Okay, next time I’ll just buy some rope and shit,” Emil says, “and just bondage you all up. That way you can’t wiggle away. Yeah, I’ll do that.”
“Geez,” Elias mutters. “Everyone, get a room. Romance so thick in here I’m about to puke.”
Emil stuffs a finger in his ear. “No, it won’t help if you tie me down. And no, I’m pretty sure you tried to break my wiener. That’d ruin all the fun, now, wouldn’t it? Really? You don’t think so?”
“This was our room,” Bo replies to Elias. “Why didn’t you stay next door?”
“Because Emil was in there fighting with Zoe.”
“But now he’s here.”
“Yeah, there’s no peace anywhere.” Troll pops a piece of cheese in his mouth and hands Elias a bottle of water. “Here. Now, head in the game. Grab your instruments and get out there. Sound. Check.”
~*~
Sunniva was born in Norway, the Land of The Midnight Sun, but spent her early twenties making the world her playground. Southern Europe: Spain, Italy, Greece—Argentina: Buenos Aires, in particular. The United States finally kept her interest, and after half a decade in California, she now lounges in the beautiful city of Savannah. Sunniva has a Master's degree in Spanish, which she taught until she settled in as an adviser at an art college in the South.
Sunniva writes New Adult fiction with soul. Sometimes it's with a paranormal twist, like in Shattering Halos, Stargazer, and Cat Love. At other times, it's contemporary, as in Pandora Wild Child, Leon's Way, Adrenaline Crush, and now Walking Heartbreak.
Sunniva is the happiest when her characters take over, let their emotions run off with them, shaping her stories in ways she never foresaw. She loves bad-boys and good-boys run amok, and like in real life, her goal is to keep you on your toes until the end of each story.
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