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Thursday, March 24, 2016

Book Blitz: Snatched by Candy J. Starr




Snatched
Candy J. Starr
(Snatched #1)
Publication date: March 22nd 2016
Genres: New Adult, Romance
I need to stop this wedding.  
My mother snuck behind my back to marry a gold-digger but he’ll not get his dirty hands on our company.  
Only, I arrived too late and now have to cool my heels.  
I never let emotions interfere with my life but I’m so pent up that, when I noticed that hooker working the room, I figure a play session will relieve my stress.

Her innocence is just an act – and we both know what the game is here. Don’t we?

A stranger, a hotel room, no word and no names.  
Who better to have a wild fling with? I’d been numb to the world for so long with nothing but a mountain of crushing debts.  
Then my father offered me a wad of cash to attend his glitzy wedding. I don’t do casual flings but, just this once, I want to be wanton and crazy.  
It’s not like I’ll ever see him again.

**Only 99c for a limited time!**

Excerpt 1

He backed me up against the pillar with my hands held by my sides. His face was so close to mine that I could feel his hot breath on my neck. He had that rich people smell too. He must’ve been able to hear my heart pound, it was so loud. My whole body pounded. I’d become a pounding, blushing idiot.

“You shouldn’t,” I said, but instead of sounding insistent, my words came out in a husky whisper. Like a plea.

“Oh, I should.”

The deep rumble of his voice vibrated in my ear, sending delicious sensations through my body, down to my feet. He didn’t sound like he was going to take no for an answer.

My common sense told me to stop him but it’d been so long since I’d been with a man.

His lips hovered near mine and all common sense fled my mind. The only thought I had was how much I wanted him to kiss me. Every fiber of my being screamed for him to kiss me. It thudded through my body and reverberated with my pulse. The edges of my self blurred and I melted into the space around me.

That plump bottom lip of his called to me. It told me it held the keys to dreamland. That everything I’d ever fantasized about could be fulfilled.

He fixed me in the glare of his steely eyes until I quivered from the anticipation. My attention moved from his lip to those eyes. I couldn’t move. Even if I wanted to, he had me trapped. Nothing else mattered. The wedding, the dancing, all these people milling around. They no longer existed. There was only his eyes, so cold and vicious, as though he could see into my soul and didn’t like what he found there, but he wanted it just the same.


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Q&A - Author

When and why did you decide to be a writer?

I don’t know if I really decided – I just had a story I wanted to write and it came from that. I’ve always loved writing and making up stories and find it wonderful that people want to read them.

What has been the toughest criticism given to you as an author? What has been the best compliment?

I’ve had positive and negative reactions but if someone doesn’t like the story or relate to the characters, I can understand that. We all have different tastes. One criticism that does bug me a lot is when someone is dismissive of the genre I write in. I hate book snobs and if you don’t like romance or new adult books, don’t read them. There’s no need to look down on people who do enjoy them.

I always find it a great compliment when readers have a strong reaction to the characters - if they love them, hate them, get angry with them, it means they are getting into the story. 

What is your favorite snack/treat or drink while writing?

Coffee! I am so addicted to coffee. I drink a minimum of 4 cups a day. I do try to switch to tea at night though so I can sleep. And chocolate, I eat far too much chocolate!

Who inspired you to be a writer?

I can't think of one particular writer who inspired me. I seemed to be always writing even if it was only in my head. My sister really pushes me to get things out of my head and on paper though, which is a good thing.

Who is your fictional character crush?

My original fictional crush from way back is Heathcliff from Wuthering Heights. So broody and dark and really, he had no redeeming qualities whatsoever. Still I think we never get over the books we love as a teenager.


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Excerpt 2

The whole place smelt like rich people. Not that I went around smelling rich people, but the air seemed heavy and thick like the scents hovered there forever, never falling to the ground. They smelt like the kind of flowers you can only grow in a hothouse and the kind of spices you need to travel to remote destinations to find. The thing they did not smell like was hospitals and death.

Then Dad appeared.

My memories of him had all but faded and the only image I had in my mind was from a photo Mum had kept. They were happy in that photo, Dad gazing down at Mum with some tenderness in his eyes, Mum smiling up at him. A moment in time when they’d been happy together. That photo outlasted their happiness. Since then, Dad had put on a bit of weight in his face. He had that look that some women loved, though. Rugged and tough.

My stomach churned at seeing him again after all these years. I’d known it wouldn’t be a happy reunion, but I’d not been prepared. So much anger and resentment boiled inside me. I guess I couldn’t actually punch him in the middle of his wedding, not without causing a scene.

Even though he looked older, it was like the years hadn’t touched him much. He didn’t have that weariness about him that Mum had lived with throughout the years.

“Veronica. You made it.” He put his arm around me and smiled as though we had only seen each other recently. He pulled me over to meet his new wife. Mitzy. She was every bit as glamorous up close, but she had a softness to her eyes when she smiled at me.

I couldn’t help but smile back at her.

“Ah, Richard, your daughter,” she said and held out her hand for me to shake.

I wasn’t sure how to react but Dad had his arm tight around me, and good manners demanded that I shake Mitzy’s hand.

“I’m delighted to meet you,” she said, grabbing me in an embrace that smothered me in her aura of money and glamour. “Before the official photos, we wanted a few family shots. Family is the most important thing, don’t you think? I just need to find Dom.”

I had no idea who Dom was.

“Richard, there’s that little arbour if you go out the other side of the dance floor. It’ll be protected from the rain. That would be perfect for some impromptu family photos. You take Veronica out there and I’ll gather up everyone. Is my make-up still okay?”

“Yes, you look beautiful,” Dad said.

She smiled at him in a way that made me feel awkward. There was too much vulnerability and need in that smile.


********


Q&A – Snatched

Where did you get the idea for Snatched?

I really wanted to play around with a modern version of a classic gothic romance – a dark, brooding hero with a mysterious past and an innocent girl held captive, all set in an isolated house away from the world. With hot, kinky sex.

What are the characters like?

I really like writing character who are rich but a bit clueless about the real world. The hero in Snatched, Dom, is very much like that – used to being in control and getting his own way but too much so. He isn’t really sure how to handle things when he meets a woman he can’t buy with money.

The heroine, Veronica, is the exact opposite. She’d had it tough and expects the worst of life. She’s vulnerable but not a sucker and isn’t afraid to fight back.

How is Snatched different from your other books?

For starters, it’s a serial with short episodes rather than a series of novels. Most of my previous books are rock star romance but this is one is a billionaire romance. It’s a bit steamier than the stuff I’ve written before which is fun.

How is Snatched the same as your other series?

I tend to write characters that have money issues. Those issues can put them into situations that challenge them and open them up to possibilities that they’d never dreamed of.

I do love an enemy to lovers story too. All that sexual tension building up.

What’s next?

As Dom and Veronica’s story progresses, things get darker and some traumatic secrets are revealed. Dom is never sure if he can trust Veronica and, with a fortune at stake, he makes some bad choices.


********


Excerpt 3

When I sat beside her on the sofa, she bit her lip, her teeth sinking into that luscious curve and scraping her lipstick. Lipstick that was now slightly smeared.

“Get up,” I commanded her.

She looked at me questioningly but obeyed. She stood in the middle of the room with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Lose the act and get that dress off.” I picked up the remote control from the side table and put some music on. Behind her, I could see most of the city through the windows. I thought about closing the curtains but no one could see us up this high.

When I glanced up, she was still fully clothed and a blush covered her face.

“I can’t...”

I stood up. “I said to lose the act,” I told her. “Surely you’d want to get out of that hideous dress as soon as possible.”

I reached behind her and unzipped the dress, tugging at it so it fell to a pool at her feet.

She gasped and tried to cover herself but I pushed her arms away.

“Let me look at you. You’ve got nothing to hide.”

I sat back down and she stood with her arms at her side. Not posing but not hiding herself either. She kept her head down but the blush was still on her cheeks. Not just her cheeks either. Despite her reluctance, she was as into this as I was. I gave an appreciative sigh. She had legs that seemed to stretch on forever and she didn’t slump the way some tall girls did to disguise their height. Her hips were unfashionably large but that just emphasized her small waist. Her nipples strained against the fabric of her bra. Her long hair hung down her back. Most women would’ve had it styled up to go to a wedding like this, but she looked better with it hanging in a dark and shiny curtain. She had a mouth that looked about two sizes too big for her face and creamy, pale skin.

Overall, she wasn’t beautiful but she was attractive, like a fruit ripe for picking. She sure didn’t look shop-soiled. A little on the thin side, as though she hadn’t had a decent meal in a long time, but that was one of those stupid things young girls did.

The underwear, though, was not that of a working girl. Beige and baggy panties, equally beige and serviceable bra. It didn’t fit with the skimpy dress. The haunted look in her eyes didn’t fit either. Her pupils were wide with desire but there was something else there too. Not the sad desperation of your typical hooker, but something that suggested compassion and a wisdom beyond her years.

Still, I wasn’t here for her backstory, and I doubted she’d tell me the truth if I asked. The hooker with the heart of gold was a myth. Everything was an angle to be played to the best advantage.

“Take off your bra. Slowly.”

She raised her eyebrows but reached around to unhook it. She fumbled with the clasp. Still putting on the innocent act. Or maybe she was new on the job and not sure how the whole routine worked. If so, she was way out of her league in a place like this. After a moment, though, she unclasped her bra and dropped it to her feet near the dress. She hooked her fingers in the waistband of her panties and started to remove them too.

I stood up, moving close to her, and grabbed her hands.

“Did I tell you to do that?” I asked.

I could feel her heartbeat and hear her breath catch.

“No,” she said.

I ran my finger down her body from the base of her neck, between her breasts and across her stomach to the elastic on her pants. She inhaled as my fingers moved and didn’t exhale.

Author Bio:

Candy J. Starr used to be a band manager until she realized that the band she managed was so lacking in charisma that they actually sucked the charisma out of any room they played. “Screw you,” she said, leaving them to wallow in obscurity – totally forgetting that they owed her big bucks for video equipment hire.

Candy has filmed and interviewed some big names in the rock business, and a lot of small ones. She’s seen the dirty little secrets that go on in the back rooms of band venues. She’s seen the ugly side of rock and the very pretty one.

But, of course, everything she writes is fiction.

 

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