by Sunniva Dee
“Arriane! Didn’t you catch how perfect she is for me? Hell—I’m perfect for her.”
Leon’s parade of girlfriends is long. One after the other, they arrive and get booted. Like crack, he gets women addicted to him before he breaks their hearts with his rapidly cooling interest. The last one, though? Pandora?
She turned the tables on him.
Leon is not boyfriend material. Leon is heartbreak ready to detonate in one stunning package. And yet I can’t stand that he’s hurting. I wish he handled this better.
I—
Long to erase his pain.
“How long did she live with you, Leon? A week? She wasn’t perfect for you if she’s in love with someone else.” I keep talking. Knowing I should stop. “Don’t worry. The right girl will come around.”
Anger flashes over those flawless features I’ve memorized. “What do you know? Do you even date?” he spits out.
This outburst is not him. “Yeah, just… not lately,” I mumble, stunned.
“As in since you started working for me three years ago?” he prods.
With no deliberation, I nod. Because when I fall, I fall hard. I don’t recover my heart easily. A few months into my job at Smother, I already knew. Sure, I’ve had a date or two. Occasionally been sucked into an advanced make-out session, but—
“Ooh, that makes you quite the relationship expert,” he mocks in a tone he never uses, especially not with his employees. Eyes darkening, he stalks toward me on my post in front of the exit. I’m not sure of his intentions. To be on the safe side, I push at the door, double-checking.
Thank God. Still barricaded.
“What are you doing, Arriane?” His tone lowers into a silky drawl, promising a danger I haven’t been on the receiving end of before. His words sound intimate, the way he speaks to his girlfriends at times, and I swallow, wanting to control the fear and the heat rising in me.
I press my back against the front door, fanning my palms protectively over the wood at my sides. He could be strong enough to barge through for all I know, and I can’t—can’t let that happen.
I’m no match for him. My tiny body is all that keeps him from trying.
“Move,” he clips, but I shake my head, trying not to meet his glare—the beautiful glare that’s crystalline compared to the pale tan of his skin.
I shiver.
“Arriane,” Christian calls from outside. “You sure about this?”
“Yeah, keep it blocked. I can do this,” I say. My voice doesn’t sound right, though. It quivers with uncertainty, and I wrap my arms around myself for comfort.
“Open the damn door!” Leon roars.
“Leon, man—sorry,” Christian replies from outside. “Arriane, this is bad. I don’t think you can talk him down. We’re coming in.”
No. What good would come of opening right now? If he makes it past them, he’ll take off on his motorcycle, and who knows where he’d end up—at Pandora’s door and getting himself arrested?
I pull air into my lungs, inflating them. “Don’t do it, Christian!” I shout as loud as I can. The palms of Leon’s hands slam into the door by my temples, and a shocked yelp slips from me. He leans in, closer to my face than he has ever been, his nose almost touching mine.
“Hmm,” he murmurs, changing his tone so swiftly I freeze with uncertainty. “You were going to talk me down? From what, a ledge?” He pulls back enough to meet my eyes, and the ice in his shifts. “From a noose, perhaps?” He chuckles darkly. “No, Arriane, don’t you worry. No chick can make me jump.”
I don’t answer. My breathing speeds up in response to the way my heart pumps adrenaline through my veins. Leon is standing so close that his hips brush against my stomach, and he is…
No way. With the mood he’s in, how can he be?
But then, it’s true: he is hard. I’m certain now, because he aligns his body with mine and presses into me. The sensation of him rock-solid against my frame for the very first time is a rush!
In my sensory overload, my irrational mind hitches on how fit he is. Slender and made of granite, he exhales, a puff of air meeting my skin. Of course, it’s his martial arts, my brain analyzes unnecessarily.
He waits. Waits for me to reply.
“I didn’t mean—No, never…” I begin, trying to focus on his question about me talking him down from jumping. Only I’m out of breath, and the rest of the words don’t come. A mild waft of cologne pulses from his neck, drawing my attention down from his face.
“No?” he prompts. “So what’s your plan?” Sapphire-bright, his eyes narrow as he dissects me. I squirm under his scrutiny. He’s holding me, though, so I unintentionally apply friction between us. Leon sucks air through his teeth in a hiss that shoots fire to my stomach.
At work, he moves among us like some pagan god; always present and with an all-knowing, cool air of mastery. Taking charge, responsibility. Reducing the stress of frantic work nights with short, precise orders. Now, he’s regaining his control, only of a more intimate type. He exudes a seductive sort of power I’ve so often watched him wield over his girls.
“I turn you on, don’t I?” Mild surprise tinges his voice, like he wasn’t expecting this. There’s no point in enunciating the tale my brain concocts, because my body won’t lie.
“Are you okay, Arriane?” Christian interrupts from outside. “Shit, whose idea was this anyway?” he says to Jason. “Sure, it’s Arriane, but still—we locked him away with another girl.”
“She’s fine, Christian,” Leon answers for me. “We both are. I won’t hurt her.”
A short silence follows. “Arriane?”
“Um, yes. No worries,” I manage. Aware that Christian’s respect for our boss equals mine, I add, “Leon’s back. He’s himself again.”
Leon’s hand reaches out. Locks the door from the inside and slinks up to my neck. Gently, he guides me into his apartment with a palm curving at my nape, right below the ponytail.
Neither of us reacts when Christian’s concerned voice repeats my name from the hallway. When they remove the barricade in loud shuffles against the floor.
“You want to stay?” Leon whispers. “Keep me company?”
He stares at me in that special way. His look is not one of love or adoration.
I know better than to accept his offer.
It would be madness.
And yet—
I nod.
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No novel has been like Walking Heartbreak for me. It assaulted my mind in the car one day, then fogged up my walk on the beach. For weeks, it made my legs jump with impatience under my day job work desk, to the point of having my good friend and co-worker say, “Please, can you stop?!”
It took six months before my other books were done and I could finally write the first words. I’m an author, but to describe the relief I felt when that first chapter had been written is impossible.
As with all my novels, there have been villages involved. Villages consisting of the same loyal people with skills and talents that mean the universe to my final product.
First, a huge kiss to my husband, Michael, who’s a patient man. He’s also in the music industry and tours for a living himself. Thanks to him and what I’ve seen out there, there are some pretty damn realistic scenes in this book.
I’m also grateful for my daughter, Alexandra, who reads and loves all of my books. And I’m over the moon about my son, Nicolas, not reading them; he’s still scrubbing his eyes after accidentally opening Stargazer on the wrong page.
I can never thank my author besties enough. We’re in this together, loving, fighting, and loving this journey some more. Dead honest feedback is how we roll, because how else can we keep getting better?
Lynn Vroman, again you cracked your whip of awesome at a manuscript of mine. Your input, your enthusiasm, your stead
y expertise made me trust that I could polish it into the novel it now is.
Angela McPherson, you grabbed Walking Heartbreak and turned around the medical know-how I so needed in mere days, helping me hit my deadline. Your sweet attention kept me from panic attacks in moments of need.
D Nichole King, you always locate inconsistencies and typical issues I am known for by you. Insert winky-face here. You’re my honest, honest girl, and the fact that you put this book baby on your favorite shelf means stars and moons and distant suns to me.
Cheryl McIntyre: your feedback, your love for my stories, the way you see things in sentences no one else sees. How you read depth of characters and extract symbolism I can play with. Your emails make me smile and tear up, and your tiniest corrections shoot me off to tweak my draft. I say it nonstop, but hell—this is my book so I can say it again: you have no idea how much your feedback and friendship mean to me.
Laura Thalassa, again you’ve done it, helped me polish and find those last details, the ones that I’d hate to find later on published paper. But most of all your swooning comments made my day this time. Thank you, thank you!
Dawn McIntyre, do you realize it’s been seven books? I’m so grateful that you enjoy my novels so much that you’ve helped me every. Single. Time. Your response means ions to me. Your genuine, clear input, telling me what you want, what you love and don’t, is exactly what I need to nudge my stories up a last step before release.
My beta readers, Renee McMillan, Rachel Spurlock, and April Martin—there is nothing like you reading my baby and affording me your impulsive responses as you read. I’m humbled that you dropped your to-be-read stacks to squeeze in Walking Heartbreak.
I’ve never mentioned my loyal blogs in my acknowledgments, the ones who are pivotal when it comes to spreading the word about my cover reveals, releases, and sales. There are too many to pull out single names, but you know who you are, you beautiful, beautiful girls and boys who are there for me, making my books visible in the overgrown jungle that is the indie market. Just—I cannot thank you enough, and I want you to know you’re on my list. Not on my black list or my white list. No. On my golden list.
And then, above everything, there is you, sweet reader. Writing equals breathing for me, so I would write without you, but boy, what a difference it makes to have you along for the ride.
You. Are my star.
Thank you for reading.
Sunniva was born and raised in Norway, the Land of The Midnight Sun, but spent her early twenties making the world her oyster: Spain, Italy, Greece: Southern Europe—Buenos Aires, Argentina. Finally, the United States 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 a graduate adviser at an art college in the South.
Sunniva writes New Adult fiction with soul and purpose. 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 let their emotions run off with them, shaping the stories in ways she never foresaw. She loves her bad-boys and her good-boys run amok, and like in real life, her goal is to keep you on your toes until the end of each story.
Writing this (Mid-November 2015), I have a few projects in the works: the first is a martial arts warrior romance with characters you have never met before. It’s due out at the end of March 2016, and I cannot wait for you to read it. Next up, I have the stories of Emil, Troy, and Elias swirling in my head; whoever pushes the hardest wins! By signing up for my newsletter, you’ll be the first to know once I have more details.
In the future, the world is at war. For the last decade, King Lazuli of the Eastern Empire has systematically taken over the world. No one knows much about him other than a series of impossible facts: he cannot die, he has not aged since the conflict began, and he wants to rule the world.
All Serenity Freeman has known is bloodshed. War has taken away her mother, her home, her safety. As the future emissary of the Western United Nations, the last autonomous region of the globe, she is responsible for forging alliances where she can.
Surrender is on the horizon. The king can taste it; Serenity feels it deep within her bones. There is no other option. Now the two must come face to face. For Serenity, that means confronting the man who’s taken everything from her. For the king, it means meeting the one woman he can’t conquer.
But when they meet, something happens. Cruelty finds redemption. Only in war, everything comes with a price. Especially love.
Check out The Queen of All that Dies on Amazon.
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Three. This is my number. The sum of reasons why I continue to go on.
One: She needs me.
Two: I have to protect her.
And three: With her, I feel human.
But the weight of a man’s secrets is a thousand pounds on his shoulders. Two thousand more on his chest. Trapping him.
Crushing him.
My secrets are slaughtering me.
Fear and regret—of what I’ve done, of whom I’ve become, and of what I’ve let go—are dragging me into a hole, and I can’t claw my way out.
The deeper I sink, the farther I push her away.
The farther she goes, the more my mind spirals. Down into a black abyss. It’s dark here. So damn dark.
She needs to know what I’ve done. I have to tell her. But how can I battle the darkness if I lose my light?
This is what my life is now. I’m a shadow of a man in a scarred body, longing to live again.
Check out GRIT on Goodreads.
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“She was my past, my present, my everything, and when the time came I’d make her my forever.”
Aside from the normal changes in her life, college junior, Elle Richards, can always count on her friendship with Tristan. The longing for him to love her back is something she keeps well hidden, even from herself. No matter how many miles apart they are, regular phone calls and texts keep them close…until the day everything changes.
Wide Receiver Tristan Daniels has a good thing going. Much to his, and every single woman’s surprise, he’s in a committed relationship. The possibility of going pro looks more than promising…until his spur of the moment transfer to a rival college is approved. Now, Tristan will be forced to be in the presence of the woman he’s secretly loved for as long as he can remember. Elle.
Being away from one another was enough to keep Tristan and Elle distracted, but angst, confusion, and troubled secrets launches them into a breathless, heart pumping story you won’t want to miss!
Purchase DISTRACTION on Amazon.
Follow Angela McPherson on Amazon.
Damian lost everything when he lost Kate, the love of his life. Once again, he’s in a downward spiral, numbing his pain with booze and easy lays. When Lia shows up on his doorstep, it’s like fate is giving him one more chance to be the man Kate deserved. He can’t mess this up. Because if he does, he may lose more than Lia.
He’ll lose his life.
“This story MOVED me, I have more than one word to describe it...brilliant, beautiful, thought provoking.” —Biblio Belles Book Blog
“These characters will live with me for a long time.” —Obsessed with Romance
“6 Amazing Stars!” —Give Me Books
Purchase Love Always, Damian on Goodreads.,
Follow D. Nichole King on Amazon.
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