“Absence of You is an electric, sexy, hot rock star romance like no other. I devoured this book. Sunniva Dee sure knows how to write an unapologetic bad boy!” - LJ Shen, USA Today Bestselling author ☆☆☆☆☆
their merch girl. Sometimes it’s surreal that I get to experience this with the
band. My imagination transports me into a future where moments like these have
become memories. They hit me straight in the diaphragm, forcing my eyes shut
with the bliss that I was a part of this, that I was there when a great band
was in the process of becoming legendary.
audience loses it around me, smiling, chanting along to a song they don’t know
because it’s the first time Emil sings it live. I’m being bumped from all
sides, life is perfect, and I’m grinning so big, my Gypsy blood rushes through
my veins, affording the disquiet I crave.
jumping to the beat as Emil slides to his knees at the edge of the stage. He
laughs into the microphone. He’s a god, yelling, “Hey! Hey! What’s up? You’ve come to the right place! I’m here to
entertain—and if you’re bored when I’m done, I’ll shoot a bullet through my
head for your—
third chorus, the crowd gets it and shouts the last words out with him. On the
fourth chorus, the music disappears. I tense and swing to Troll, but find him
laughing behind the sound booth. The guys lift their hands from their
instruments, not playing, just screaming the chorus with Emil and enjoying the
wall of feedback from the sixteen-hundred-strong audience.
I woot, my voice meshing with the others’.
a table to the right of the stage. Bo exchanges a flirty wink with her, but
then my attention pulls back to Emil.
up in his kneeled position when the music resumes again, an onslaught of sound
after the club-wide a cappella performance we just experienced. His hips thrust
forward like a bullfighter, like a lover, his package bulging with excitement.
A heated sting hits my abdomen at the sight. I wonder if everyone notices that
detail, or if I’m just abnormally tuned in.
to take my eyes off of him nowadays. When he flirted with me the other night—
mingle with foreigners like Emil, from way up north in Santa Land, should be
the safest way to go for me. I remind myself of how the snow puts those guys on
ice and gives them a bleak strain of love compared to the hot-blooded crazy of
his face, targeting me. His features stretch in a dazzling smile, his body
emanating the joy I feel whenever I’m around him.
glare follows me too, but I ignore him and slant up on my stiletto toes. Raise
both hands to my mouth. Then I throw Emil a kiss with the tips of all ten
He sees me
and laughs softly into the mic as the music ebbs on the last note. Used to his
antics, the band doesn’t react when he lowers on his hands and crawls forward
on the stage until his face peeks over the edge.
audience roars, and between their response and Emil’s eyes, my determination
blazes. I’m not waiting. I’m not leaving this opportunity to some fan, because
he’s never been closer to becoming my prize.
forward past whooping ticket payers. Emil’s stare remains on me, inviting me
forward, and I leap the last few feet until I’m inches away, my face even with
his. I grab the stage with my hands, letting my eyes burn freely with my
people’s fervor. It’s arousal, desire, need, and everything that’s red, and I
can’t help it and I don’t fucking care. All I know is Emil’s here and I’ve got
air in my lungs to live and breathe and not fear.
Santa Land, I think as he leans down to find my mouth.
Harmless, I think as soft lips meet mine for the first
Crazy, I think when he feels so much better than I
Sunniva Dee is a lover of great writing and wild,
passionate, angsty characters. In the beautiful city of Savannah, Georgia, she
divides her time between her “petting zoo” and writing sexy novels. Sunniva
ado-o-ores breaking stereotypes and describing the flipside of bad-boy alphas
or good boys with a savage streak.