Blurb:
One hundred days
without sex? Is that even possible?
When I got offered an
exchange to the Italian art school of my dreams, I nearly cried. I could barely
afford college expenses at home let alone in a foreign country but it’d break
my heart to knock them back. Then my rich and uptight grandmother called with
her offer.
If I stopped screwing
around, she'd foot the bill. So I agreed. I figured she didn't really care
about my sex life, she just wanted me to keep my partying off the radar.
I was so wrong.
The sexy but annoying
Chad moved into my apartment to keep me under surveillance. Why wasn't Chad
dying to get into my pants like every other guy I've met? He had secrets and he
wanted me to fail.
One hundred days is a
helluva long time to avoid temptation – even longer when Chad becomes the
temptation.
Buylinks
Excerpt
I was about to
suggest heading back to my place for some quiet time when he jerked around.
“Who's that guy?” he
asked.
“What guy?”
“The one over there,
glaring at us.” He backed away from me a bit.
“I'm all up for some fun but if
you're not single then, sorry, not interested.”
My stomach sank as I
turned around. Chad waved at me again.
“He's no one.”
“He's taking notes.
See, he's got a notebook out.” The barman got up off his barstool, shaking his
head. “I have no idea what the situation is here but it's too freaky for me.
Catch you later.”
What the hell? Was
that beefcake actually taking notes? The entertainment value of Chad had
started wearing thin already.
I marched across the
room.
“What the hell do you
think you're doing? Are you some kind of stalker?”
Chad laughed.
“Yeah, I am. A
stalker paid by your grandmother.”
I folded my arms. I
guess he was right.
“Were you taking
notes? Because that is exceptionally creepy, you know.”
“I need evidence. I
can't just tell your grandmother that you were chatting some sleaze ball up in
a bar. I'm sure you know her well enough to realise she is going to want evidence.
I was about ready to get out my phone so I could get a photo when you moved in
to kiss him.”
“I wasn't!” I so was.
Anything to shut him up with his motorbike talk.
“You were. I'm glad
you're so predictable, makes my job so much easier.”
What a jerk. I was
not predictable. I was raunchy and provocative. And now I'd spent an hour of my
life listening to motorbike talk and I'd never get that time back again.
Luckily, the night was still young and there were plenty more hot bodies out
there to target. I spotted someone across the room and turned to walk off.
Chad grabbed my arm.
Ha, I'd gotten him jealous. The Chad, he wanted me for himself. Of course. He
was only human.
“I need you to take
me home,” he said.
I looked up at him
through my lashes. That was just too easy but I could imagine a world of fun to
be had with The Chad.
“I'm staying with
you, in case you'd forgotten and I don't have a key.
I really don't want to
spend all night waiting around for you. So, you can hurry up and score with one
of these losers so I can quit this job or you can leave it for another night
and we can both get some sleep.”
Ouch, slap down. I
fished in my bag for a key and handed it to him, trying not to let him see the
disappointment on my face.
“Here,” I said,
smacking the key in his hand. “Don't wait up for me.”
As I walked off, he
grabbed me again.
“I can't go without
you and I'm exhausted.”
I shrugged, he could
do what he liked. I fully intended to stick around.
Even if I didn't get any
action, I wasn't going to let him control my life.
His big arms folded
around me and suddenly I was in mid-air. Over
Chad's shoulder.
I kicked and
screamed. Not those little girlie kicks either like you see in the movies where
you know the girl really likes it even if she protests. I kicked hard and I
elbowed him in the back of the neck. He didn't put me down, he didn't even
flinch. I tried to grab a handful of his hair but he held me too tight. I would
kill him as soon as he let me down. I would kick him in the nads until he
screamed. Nobody treated me like that.
I yelled some more
but, by this time of night, the music in the bar had gotten super loud and the
conversations even louder. With the screams of girls around the pool table and
shrieks of laughter, my screaming just dissolved into the crowd. Not one single
person came to help me. Not one. As he walked towards the door, I caught the
eye of one of the bouncers. Ha, Mr Clever Pants Chad was screwed now.
No one
would be allowed to get away with manhandling a woman out of the bar. It was a
clear-cut case of non-consensual touching. You could tell by the way I
struggled to get free that this was not a game. But the bouncer just laughed.
What a jerk. That was
how girls got raped and murdered, because dumb-arse morons like him just
watched and laughed. I'd be ringing my grandmother in the morning and telling
her I wanted Chad off the case. No matter what.
He dumped me in the
passenger seat of his car and I thought of making a run for it, back into the
bar. That would show him. But he'd probably just drag me out again and I'd had
enough humiliation for one night. I'd wait until I had a chance to talk to
grandmother. If she was so concerned about me being in a scandal, she would not
condone this behaviour.
I folded my arms,
prepared to give him the silent treatment all the way home.
Jayne ran across the
parking lot.
“Are you okay?” she
called to me. She reached the car window, out of breath and panting. Thank god
for friends who had your back. “Do you want me to call the police?”
“Thanks,” I said. “I
think this jerk just wants to take me home. In the separate rooms kind of way.
I'll call you as soon as I get home to let you know I'm okay.”
I still had my body
turned from him and I knew he could hear what we were saying.
Jayne shook her head.
“Why are you in his
car anyway? Get out and take your own. He could be an axe murderer who's
planning to dump your body somewhere.”
Jerk-face Chad
started putting the window up. I put my finger on the button to lower it again.
Maybe Jayne had a point.
“I'm taking her home
because I don't know where we live yet. She can pick up her car in the morning.”
Jayne's mouth had set
in a determined line, like she'd jump on the roof of his car rather than let
him drive off with me. I didn't want this turning into more of a spectacle.
“I'll call you in 2o
minutes. If you haven't heard from me by then, definitely call the cops. Get a
photo of his licence plate number to be on the safe side. I’m sure Grandmother
has had him all checked out, security-wise though.”
Chad just groaned and
started the car.
Candy J. Starr used
to be a band manager until she realised 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.
Hmmm getting him jealous! :D My parents played that game for years.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the awesome giveaway!
ReplyDeleteSounds like a great book!
ReplyDeleteThanks for the awesome giveaway!
ReplyDeleteAwesome giveaway!!! Thanks for the chance!!!
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