Last week we announced that Becky Wicks’s Before He Was Gone: Starstruck Book 2 is our Romance of the Week and the sponsor of thousands of great bargains in the Romance category: over 200 free titles, over 600 quality 99-centers, and thousands more that you can read for free through the Kindle Lending Library if you have Amazon Prime!

Now we’re back to offer our weekly free Romance excerpt, and if you aren’t among those who have downloaded Before He Was Gone: Starstruck Book 2, you’re in for a real treat:

Before He Was Gone: Starstruck Book 2

Or FREE with – Learn More

Standalone sequel to Amazon bestseller Before He Was Famous

Sometimes, you have to get lost to find yourself…

When her rock star boyfriend breaks things off out of the blue, Alyssa applies to hit reality TV show Deserted and to her shock she gets through. Abandoned on a remote island with a bunch of strangers and none of the luxuries she’s become accustomed to, it’s not long before an undeniable attraction to the mysterious Joshua starts complicating things even further.

Joshua’s different to everyone she’s ever known – a traveller, a man with no plan, a world away from the celebrity life she’s left behind. As a series of challenges test their wits and weaknesses, things start heating up in paradise, but in a game designed to break people down, it soon becomes clear that Joshua is hiding a painful secret – one he won’t risk anyone finding out.

Struggling to know where she belongs, Alyssa will have to choose – a life she once loved that wants her back, or a brand new reality that heartbreakingly may just have its limits.

***Warning: this book contains graphic language, sex, and mature situations. Not intended for young adult readers.***

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  And here, for your reading pleasure, is our free romance excerpt:

1

Alyssa

The wooden doors swing open and the collective gasp from the crowd makes my head turn. In a second I’m taking in her dress. I’m looking at her shoes, the painted toenails under glittering straps as the lacy, cream-colored fabric sweeps the floor. The song The Knot by Jill Barber fills the room. Wow. She looks amazing. We all knew she’d choose vintage.

I grin at her as she glides past and flashes me a scarlet smile, just as a hand reaches for my arm and squeezes it hard.

‘She looks stunning,’ Chloe whispers in my ear, and I cover her hand with mine as we watch Dani reach the front with her two bridesmaids and take her place beside Jack.

He’s every inch the gorgeous groom. He looks so proud and my heart melts. I can’t actually believe today is real – a Lockton wedding day. It’s so surreal. It feels like yesterday we all camped out in the mountains after Chloe and I graduated high school; no cell phones, no nothing, just each other. That was way before things got crazy… way before Noah won Show Us What U’ve Got and people started camping out outside theirhouses, wearing his face on their clothes.

Noah’s on Jack’s right side now, grinning. From behind it’s sometimes hard to tell the Lockton brothers apart. They have the same wild, curly hair, though Jack’s managed to tame his today somehow. They have the same confident air about them, too, standing tall. From the front they both have those piercing gray eyes.

I guess the easiest way to differentiate the Locktons from a distance these days is to check who the paparazzi’s chasing. Noah’s the one they want, seeing as he’s pretty much the most famous singer on the planet, but I had the hugest crush on Jack for about a year when I was thirteen. That’s something I’ve never actually told Chloe. I think every girl in Boulder’s had a crush on one of the Lockton brothers at some point though – even before the fame thing.

‘That dress is so gorgeous,’ Chloe says dreamily to my side.

‘You can always borrow it when it’s your turn,’ I tell her and her cheeks actually flush as she flashes her eyes at Noah.

‘Maybe you’ll be needing it before me,’ she says, motioning to Sebastian standing to my other side. I turn to him.

He’s looking stupidly hot in his suit, with his hair all combed back, staring into space, tapping his foot. As a drummer, my boyfriend hears rhythms in his head that he says his body has to move to, wherever he is, whatever he’s doing. He’s half-Colombian and has better eyelashes than me. He doesn’t speak all that much in public – not like Noah – but he has a crazy fire inside him – a South American passion, which he says he recognized in me too, from across the room on day one… even though I’m half-Greek. He calls us soul mates. He also calls me his Greek Goddess, which makes Chloe cringe, but the rest of the world calls me that too now, so it’s kind of had to grow on me.

It’s been a year since Sebastian walked into the Lockton’s house and changed my life. I’ve had to get used to the so-called-friends who crawl from the bowels of Facebook when they see photos of us together; writing me things like ‘hey Alyssa, it’s been a while since school, hope you’re good. So, listen, my cousin’s friend has this demo CD…’

Some of them sell stories about me. I feel like I have to delete friends as fast as I can make them sometimes and to be honest it’s hard to know who to trust. But still, downsides aside, it still makes my head spin when Sebastian acknowledges me and our relationship in public. What girl wouldn’t want a rock star – a member of Noah Lockton’s band, no less, expressing his love for her to the world?

‘Friends and loved ones, we thank you all for coming to witness the marriage of Jack David Lockton and Daniela Marie Whitehouse,’ the priest is saying now. My heart speeds up. Jack takes Dani’s hands and I nudge Chloe as Noah turns and winks at her. He’s such a charmer.

A flash goes off at the front – another shot the world won’t get to see. Posting anything from inside this church to social media is a no-no, obviously.

Chloe doesn’t think it’s a good idea for me to be on Facebook, or any social media for that matter. She and Noah deleted their private accounts months ago, but they have their reasons. I refuse to let my real friendships suffer just because I’m dating someone famous. Not much else has changed, really. I mean, when I’m not at movie premieres in borrowed designer gowns I still shop in Safeway, even though I get followed sometimes. I still hang out with the same people… even though they get followed sometimes. I still do social media for the phone company in Denver, for Kenneth Lane, or K-Lame as Chloe calls him because, well… he’s a little lame.

I think my manager hates that I have a ticket to a different life. He’s never really liked me. He has permanent coffee-breath, too, and the other day he posted a hideous photo onto the staff kitchen wall that some photog caught of me climbing out of a limo. My red lace panties were on full display. Kenneth claimed he didn’t notice my panties were on display but we both know he’s lying.

That shot was taken in Vegas. Sebastian flew me there a few weeks ago so we could all watch Celine Dion. Their label HotFlush got us all backstage passes and it was kind of an out-of-body experience when Celine looked at Noah like an old friend.

I still remember singing that Beauty and the Beast song she did, with Chloe – me dressed in my puffy yellow princess dress while she waved the teapot around me in my living room. We made Noah play guitar for us while we danced. I almost told Celine that story actually, but Chloe stopped me.

We took a helicopter over the Grand Canyon on that trip. We landed as the sky was turning from purple to pink; sat on the dusty rocks and drank coffee from plastic cups, huddled in blankets. We could see the curve of the earth and lightning coming at us from a million miles away. Amazing! Sebastian drummed a beat on the rocks with his fingers. I watched the way Noah and Chloe wandered off to the edge, sat on their own, took selfies and kissed and laughed like the whole canyon couldn’t even contain their love.

‘Is there cake after this?’ Sebastian says now. I put a finger to my lips. He shuffles awkwardly in his fancy shoes and I can’t help smiling. He always hates dressing smart, in spite of all the red carpet events he’s expected to attend. I love the idea of these things, and being flown away at the last minute, but honestly, the part about being slapped in every magazine and scrutinized in every comment box afterwards gets old fast.

I look down at my dress. Is it good enough for USA Today? Doesn’t matter. I’ll be in it anyway, soon as the photogs outside get a look-in.

‘We are gathered together here in the sight of God to join this man and this woman in holy Matrimony; which is an honourable estate, instituted of God in Paradise…’ the priest recites from the centre of what looks like the world’s entire supply of white lilies. Chloe squeezes my arm, pointing at The Commander, her mom, who’s already soaking a Kleenex.

‘If any man can show any just cause why this pair may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter for ever hold his peace.’

The church is silent, obviously, except for the sniffing. Jack and Dani are perfect for each other. Just like Chloe and Noah. Just like me and Sebastian. I’m a damn lucky girl and I know it.

‘I do,’ Jack says, looking into Dani’s eyes.

‘I do,’ Dani says moments later, wiping her tears.

And just like that they’re bound to each other. Stitched and tied and stuck like glue, as any one of Noah’s fans, the Lockette’s would sing. My heart’s a drum. So surreal.

I smile at Chloe, join in her happy little dance on the spot, glance at Sebastian again. He’s fiddling with his cufflinks, staring at the scene. But is he… is he shaking his head?

He catches me looking at him and for a second the drum in my chest beats harder. I know he’s moody sometimes and a little unpredictable. But there’s a look in his eyes now that I’ve never seen before and it almost knocks me off my heels.

2

Joshua

Imagine yourself a hundred feet from the floor. You’re sweating like crazy. Your fingers are grasping a barely-there ledge and your feet are balanced precariously on platforms the size of pennies. You know the holds will get better if you can get a little higher, but if you fall, you fall hard. And you fail.

‘Are you OK?’ I call down to Harri. I’m relying on the knot I just tied between a rope that’s half an inch thick and my climbing harness, and of course, Harri, who I can hear grunting behind me as she fumbles for the next place to put her fingers. I’m not normally concerned about her. She can pull her own weight like a pro, but today she’s hung over. ‘Stop if you can’t do it,’ I tell her, reaching for another hold.

‘I’m OK, Joshua,’ she snaps and I’m sure I hear her mumble the wordasshole under her breath. I ignore it. She’s always moody when she’s tired.

Most people think rock climbing is all about strength. It does help to be strong but having a proper technique is what really matters. You need to be flexible, balanced, and you need to keep your shit together mentally. If your legs are wobbling like jello when you’re making your way up a vertical wall, the strength of your body won’t mean anything. It’s the fear that will land you in trouble.

‘You don’t look OK,’ I call down as she falters and almost falls. We’re just top-roping today, which means the rope is already fixed through the safety gear at the top of the climb, but falling is always as tough on the pride as it is on the body. It would be worse today, especially with Mitchell heckling us from the bottom.

‘Come on Team Potter!’ he’s yelling now. ‘What’s taking so long?’

‘Fuck off, Mitchell,’ Harri yells back at him, re-finding her balance. He snorts.

‘Just ignore him. Stay focused,’ I tell her.

‘Seriously, Joshua, he needs to cut the stupid Harry Potter jokes or I’ll…’

‘Forget him. Focus!’ I wish she’d just focus before she gets us both into shit. I finally reach the top, pull myself up and look down at the climbing center, catching my breath. I reach down to help her top out beside me. She’s panting, breathless and her green gym shirt is a shade darker with perspiration as she reaches for my hand, swiping at the escaped strands from her ponytail.

For a moment her hands are on my chest and she flashes me a look. ‘We shouldn’t still be doing this, Joshua,’ she says. My pulse quickens. I know she means a number of things.

‘Then why are we?’ I say.

Her eyes cloud over before she looks away. ‘Some people are summer,’ she says on an exhale and my heart pangs. I bite my cheeks. She’s said this before – just after we met and sat making out, dripping our ice-creams all over the Pennybacker Bridge overlook: Some people are summer and some people are winter. You’re definitely summer, Joshua. I’m glad you’re here.

Harri’s been relatively cool since we agreed to stop sleeping together and go back to being climbing buddies. We were never official and being English with a crazy hot body to boot, Harriet McKinsey has a string of suitors after her. I guess I should’ve known she wasn’t as OK about us ending as she said she was, though.

She reaches for my harness and we do the obligatory equipment check to prepare for our descent. ‘You still do this every day?’ she asks, adjusting her sports bra under her shirt.

‘When I’m in town.’

‘Which is only when there’s something in town worth your time, right?’

She’s not meeting my eyes, tugging at my ropes a little too hard. I say nothing. She’s in the mood to pick a fight, I can tell and I can’t get into things with her again right now. Don’t get me wrong, I like Harri a lot and yes, we met here. But I never joined this place to meet girls the way some guys do. The truth is I climb because it helps me focus; keeps me sharp.

When I’m thinking about where to put my hands and feet, my other thoughts seem to categorize somehow and slot themselves into all the right places. I like the rush of pain when it roars through my limbs; the urgency that comes with having to find the perfect placement. It’s something I don’t feel in the real world. I feel no desire to find a place, or make a plan.

‘Where’ve you been this time?’ she asks, as she crosses to the other side of the wall and goes to start her descent.

‘Just spending some valuable time with mother nature,’ I say, checking the ropes as they stretch with her weight.

‘I think mother nature gets more of you than your own mother,’ she replies as she sits back on her harness and lowers herself further towards the full-moon grin on Mitchell’s face. Mitchell doesn’t even hide the fact that he’s staring at her approaching ass.

She’s right about my mom. I need to go see her, but the thought of going back home, where everyone knows me and asks even more questions than Harri is something I can’t even consider. Whereas most people act like they’re fascinated by my lifestyle, they all start to look at me like I’m a freak before too long. Why don’t I have a home? Why don’t I have a cell phone? Why don’t I have a regular job?

‘I’m right behind you,’ I call down to Harri, stepping over the edge.

Before my last expedition I was in New England for two months, learning and then teaching the healing powers of medicinal plants with a guy called Rainbow, who ate a few too many cactuses when he was a teenager and thinks the plants all talk to us. I never heard them; although I’ve seen some pretty crazy stuff these past few years. Maybe it’s only a matter of time before one yells at me.

‘Team Potter, you’re lagging today,’ Mitchell booms as Harri reaches the bottom and tells him to ‘sod off’ again. I laugh to myself at her British scorn – it’s cuter when she’s pissed. His screwed up way of flirting works with a few of the women here but it hasn’t with her, yet. He is pretty much what Harri would define as winter. The thought of him finally getting his way when I’m gone makes my insides twinge involuntarily, but I push the thought from my head as I reach the bottom and start undoing my harness.

She has hers off in seconds and stands looking at me expectantly as I do the same. ‘Lunch?’ she asks, wiping her forehead with a towel and then gulping thirstily from her water bottle. ‘You can tell me all about your adventures. How long are you sticking around for this time?’

‘Weren’t you just shooting up zombies, someplace?’ Mitchell interrupts, strapping himself up for the climb and looking between us in amusement. ‘When exactly can we expect you to save us from the apocalypse, Brenner?’

Harri’s looking at me in confusion as she drinks. Mitchell knows a guy I was just loading guns with at Zombie Survival Camp – a special place for super rich rednecks, basically. He was bound to bring it up. I’m not on Facebook, never have been, but I know some of the guys were uploading photos the whole damn time.

The camp had us holed up in some New Jersey location in the middle of nowhere, where a team of us pretended the world was about to end at the hands and foaming mouths of the un-dead. They pay good money to help train people up for an apocalypse – I couldn’t exactly turn it down. There weren’t too many other people for the job.

For twelve days straight I’ve been focusing on nothing but helping middle-aged men and their tattooed sons master basic firearms, aim crossbows, gather supplies from a series of above and below-ground locations without being eaten. They also learned to defend themselves with a form of hand-to-hand combat us gurus call Zombitsu. It was pretty hard going.

‘If there’s an apocalypse, Mitchell,’ I reply, ‘I’m sure you’ll be fine. Cockroaches are first-class survivors.’

Harri laughs and almost chokes on her water. She pulls the bottle away from her mouth, swipes her lips with the back of her hand and for a second I consider taking her up on her offer; following her back to her apartment and spending the rest of the day with her naked, sweaty body wrapped around me in every way possible. That’s what ‘lunch’ used to be, back when things were simple.

She’s watching Mitchell climb the wall now. I’m about to suggest we go for a smoothie someplace safe with no beds in it, when a piece of paper falls from his back pocket and floats down towards us. Harri reaches up, catches it. I look over her shoulder as she unfolds it. A creepy skull faces stares back up at us, with two palm trees reaching around it in a circle. I recognize the logo.

‘Deserted?’ we say at the same time. It’s a print out of an application form.

‘Mitchell? You’re applying for the show?’ Harri calls up at him. He’s grappling for his next hand slot.

‘Thinking about it,’ he calls down. ‘Can’t argue with that million dollar prize right now. Wanna come with me, Potter? Think of all the magic we could make in paradise! I’ve got a wand you can use.’

She rolls her eyes, looks back to the application. It’s blank, like he only just printed it out. I take it from her hands, scan it. Filming starts in Indonesia in a month’s time. I didn’t even know they were doing another season. Wouldn’t surprise me if I’d heard and forgotten, but suddenly my mind is racing. I reach up to rake my hand automatically through the hair that’s no longer there – I shaved my head at camp.

‘I can’t do lunch, sorry,’ I say, picking up my bag and rummaging for my baseball hat. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, same time?’

Harri looks disappointed but I can’t think about it. Mitchell will be pissed but… screw him. Already the adrenaline is pulsing through me. I shove the hat on my head, head for the exit, run out into the haze of the warm Texas morning and sprint straight to my car.

3

Alyssa

Hey guys,

Some of you may have heard, but I’m going to be fulfilling a Proactive Community Management role for part of my time every day for the next few weeks. We’ll be defining what this role means in our meeting, but I will be reaching out to low hanging fruit (users trying to make a cell phone decision) and searching for opportunities to create fun, exciting engagement outside of our community…

I look away from the screen, where K-Lame’s latest email is hurting my head. I don’t even know what he’s talking about. What’s a Proactive Community Management role? The opposite of a lazy one?

Most of the time, Kenneth uses words and phrases he’s made up because he thinks they make him sound more knowledgeable and important. Our jobs are mostly pointless and he knows it. Social media for a phone company is basically just apologizing to people who are pissed that their phones don’t work and that no one out there gives a crap; including us. The pay’s pretty good though. I’m saving for my Le Cordon Bleu Culinary course, otherwise I’d have been out of here months ago, obviously.

I pick up my cell: what’s low hanging fruit got to do with anything? I type at Chloe, laughing.

It buzzes in my hand. Sebastian’s name is flashing on the screen. I look around the office. I’m not supposed to take personal calls but K-Lame’s out on a cigarette break. I dart to the kitchen.

‘Hey baby,’ he says when I answer. ‘What’s up?’

‘Just planning what to cook for you tonight,’ I say, looking down at the blue heels I’d never tell him came from Target. ‘I’m thinking moussaka, your favorite, then homemade baklava with…’

‘Look, about dinner,’ he starts. ‘Noah’s got the new single to run through and we’re behind with everything ‘cause of the wedding. We’re going to have to fly back to New York early. HotFlush have spoken.’

‘Oh. Really? When?’

‘I’m at the airport.’

My stomach knots. ‘What do you mean you’re at the airport? I thought we had tonight…’

‘I’m sorry, you know how they are, they sent the car and we had to leave. Denzel’s been on his back.’

‘You didn’t even say goodbye!’

‘I’m saying it now, aren’t I? Look,’ he sighs down the phone. ‘Alyssa, things have been so crazy lately. I don’t know if I can juggle all this.’

My throat dries up on the spot.

‘I don’t know if you can juggle all this,’ he adds and I freeze. My heart starts thudding as I hear muffled voices on the airport speakers in the background.

‘I have nothing to juggle,’ I tell him.

‘The wedding was great, Alyssa. Seeing your home, seeing your family, really, I had a great time. But, I feel like I’m ruining your real life sometimes? I feel like I’m always leaving you.’

‘You’re not,’ I say, struggling to keep my voice level while my brain is screaming no, no, no, no!  ‘And what do you mean my real life?’

‘Your life is in Colorado,’ he says. ‘I’ve been thinking…’

‘What have you been thinking? Seriously, Sebastian, what are you telling me right now?’

I wish I could pause time, fast forward through the next part, because as he sighs down the phone I already know what he’s telling me, don’t I? He’s telling me what the jealous fans have been telling me on Twitter since we were first pictured kissing on TMZ:

@AlyssaTheGreek It will never last. #sorry

I lean heavily against the bulletin board on the wall, feeling my knees start to give out from under me. I can picture Noah with the band in the departure lounge, probably listening to this playing out. None of them are telling him not to do this. Is this all it comes down to? A single moment? A blind slash to my heart like a freakin’ knife through a hunk of meat on a chopping board, after everything we’ve been through?

‘I was going to talk to you tonight,’ he says.

‘Bullshit.’ Anger flares through me, followed swiftly by total humiliation. I slam head against the bulletin board just as Megan from accounts wanders in and eyes me quizzically, filling up her coffee mug. ‘You must’ve been thinking this for a while,’ I say, lowering my voice into the phone and turning away. ‘How long have you wanted to break this off? Honestly.’

He sighs again. I clench my fingers round the hem of my skirt as I sink to the floor, bringing half the papers on the damn board down with me. I saw it at the wedding. He couldn’t wait to get out of there. ‘I just bought baklava ingredients,’ I hear myself say stupidly as the tears threaten my eyes again.

‘I’m sorry, baby. Let’s speak in a few weeks, OK? Maybe we just need some time out?’

I refuse to cry. ‘No,’ I say. ‘You need some time out. Don’t pretend you’re going to change your mind if you’re not. I thought we were making this work, Sebastian!’

‘We were,’ he replies, and there’s a shuffle as someone takes the phone from him.

‘Alyssa?’ It’s Noah. Just hearing my friend is enough to make me crumble.

‘What the hell, Lockton?’ I cry.

‘I’m sorry babe, look, I just wanted you to know that we’re here for you, all of us. This doesn’t change our friendship, OK? Things are just difficult, you know? We’re on the road so much…’

‘It’s not difficult for you and Chloe,’ I tell him, swiping at my face. ‘How long have you known?’ But the phone’s taken off him again and Sebastian starts up with an apology. I hang up. I don’t want to hear it.

Megan’s hovering over me. She crouches down, fixes me with a look of concern. I put my head on my arms as she squeezes my knee. ‘I just bought baklava ingredients,’ I say again in a voice that doesn’t even sound like my own and she makes a sympathetic aaaaw sound that makes it all real and makes me want to vomit.

My cell buzzes again. It’s Chloe. I pick up, willing my voice not to break as I take my headband off and shove a hand through my hair. ‘News travels fast.’

‘Noah just said I should call you, what’s happened? Are you OK?’

‘Sebastian broke things off.’

‘What? Why?!’

‘Because he’s an asshole,’ I say, and then I regret it. ‘Sorry. No he’s not. But I knew this would happen. I just… I knew it. What am I gonna do, Chloe? The media will be all over this in like, an hour.’

‘No they won’t,’ she says, but we both know they will. Anything Noah Lockton’s band does is front-page news. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a photog outside already, waiting for me, waving a press release from HotFlush itself. My fingers are trembling as I grip the phone.

‘You saw it coming, didn’t you?’ I say, and Chloe sighs.

‘You were saying he’s been distant. At the wedding you barely spoke.’

‘Susan Miller saw it too,’ I follow, remembering my horoscope with a pang. ‘She said the lunar full moon eclipse would create tension in relationships. But I thought he was just overwhelmed… he’d never met my mom before.’

‘True,’ she says. I know Chloe’s thinking the same as me. Not only do we devour our scopes on the first of every month because they’re always so damn right, my mom can be pretty overwhelming. Sebastian had barely shaken her hand before she was sizing him up for our wedding. The photog shot of my underwear didn’t help. I heard he got a ton of hassle from the label after that. They’re supposed to be all wholesome and clean.

‘Leave work early, I’ll come get you,’ Chloe says.

‘When’s your flight again?’ I ask. She’ll be leaving town soon, too, back to New York. Panic floods my body.

‘Not till tomorrow night,’ she says. ‘Stay there, I’m coming now.’

‘Wait. What will I tell K-Lame? We have a meeting about low hanging fruit.’

‘Tell him you have a personal emergency!’

‘OK,’ I say, scrambling up and motioning to Megan that I’m OK. ‘But, what will I tell him after that?’

‘What do you mean?’

I turn to the wall, swallow another lump that’s formed in my throat. Noah would never do this to Chloe. Noah can make this whole crazy double life-thing work with Chloe. ‘Can I just leave the planet, please?’

‘Don’t be so dramatic. Look, we’re wasting time. I’ll be there in ten.’ She hangs up and I turn back around to where Megan’s now sipping her coffee, reading a flier that must have fallen off the bulletin board.

She looks at me, looks back to the flier and shoves it at me. I rub my eyes, look down at the skull and palm trees bearing up at me. ‘Deserted?’ I read in surprise. My head is reeling.

She shrugs. ‘They want season twenty-three applicants now. I’d apply myself if it wasn’t for the three kids and the fact that I’d look terrifying in a bikini. You want to get out of here, isn’t that what you just said?’

I shake my head at her incredulously. ‘Do you really think I want more people looking at me like I’m a tool? Besides, people like me don’t apply for shows like this either, Megan.’

‘Alyssa,’ she squeezes my arm with a smile. ‘Honey, don’t take this the wrong way, but I think people like you are made for shows like this.’

4

Joshua

Two weeks later

The pimply seventeen-year-old trailing my ass is getting on my nerves. He hasn’t left my side since he showed up in the car at L.A.X and accompanied me to the hotel. I found him parked outside my bathroom when I came out of the shower in just a towel and he jumped when I opened the door. He eyed up my tattoos and shaved head in suspicion, like we were already marooned on an island and I was about to cut his throat for some rice.

I’m not supposed to talk to anyone else here. They would’ve confiscated my cell phone on arrival if I had one, and if I didn’t know better I’d say the production team have bugged the room’s telephone, too. Call me paranoid, but it’s all a little more serious than I was expecting – this audition process.

The pimply kid barked that I should divert my eyes whenever we passed someone else in the hallway and I’ve heard other people being ordered around, too. But we’re halfway through the three-day interviews and so far, so good, I think. I hope. A production assistant called Lanie was very nice when they made me stand in front of them yesterday and fired some kind of verbal personality test at me:

‘A logical decision is always best, even if it hurts someone’s feelings. Agree or disagree?’

‘Agree.’

‘You need to retreat and spend some time alone after spending too much time with other people. Agree or disagree?’

‘Agree.’

‘You don’t mind being the center of attention. Agree or disagree?’

‘Disagree.’

They all said they loved my application video. ‘We’ve never actually seen anyone quite so dedicated to saving the human race before,’ Lanie grinned through glossed lips as she held up a photo of me shooting at three walking dead guys.

Seeing as I only had a week to pull the three-minute video together, I filmed myself talking over footage I thankfully already had from Zombie Survival Camp and a couple other trips I’ve done in the last year or so. My cousin Evan and I stitched it all together on iMovie. There I was on their big screen in the hotel’s boardroom on the first day, shooting up some cardboard cut outs, and in another shot, dressed in flowing linen pants and prayer beads, blowing smoke over hippies at the ayahuasca ceremony Rainbow and I did in his backyard.

That retreat, which saw twelve people drinking boiled up jungle roots imported from the Amazon and passing out for eight hours straight, was almost as intense as the zombie stuff. He paid me pretty good money to round up the recruits. There’s a surprising number of people in this world who are willing to pay to lose their minds.

I’m not one of them.

I’m sitting here now with the pimply kid beside me, waiting for my IQ test. I’m not particularly concerned about this one. It’s the ‘I’m not crazy’ test that bothers me but I decided before they flew me here that honesty was the best policy. Over the past two weeks I’ve watched countless hours of YouTube footage from contestants who’ve been on Deserted before. I read everything I could drag up on the Internet. For a night I tossed and turned, drove around the neighbourhood at three a.m, wondering if I was doing the right thing. This show has on average twenty million viewers per episode. That’s a lot of people looking at me.

But then… I’m not doing this for the fame, the glory, the recognition, am I? I’m doing it for that money, because if Evan is right and we’re going to have to pay out, I’ll do what it takes. No question.

‘Joshua Brenner? Ready?’

Lanie’s smiling at me again from the boardroom doorway. Today she’s in skinny jeans and a sky blue tank with a cloud on it. She’s so L.A – the perfect irony with her yoga-toned arms and green juice in a non-biodegradable plastic cup.

‘Yes ma’am, ready,’ I say, following her into the air-conditioned room, where three guys and one woman are sat behind a table with iPads and what I guess are our application forms in piles. I heard there were almost one hundred people at the interviews, all competing for just ten places on the show.

‘Welcome back, Mr Brenner,’ one of the guys beams, motioning for me to sit in the wooden chair right in front of them. ‘These questions are designed to test your intelligence and will take roughly two hours. Please feel free to request a break and help yourself to water.’

My instincts pique at his words as I take my seat and he appraises me through thick-lensed glasses. They haven’t given me any water, though I note the cooler at the other end of the room. I know my ability to handle intense situations is an asset in this case and if I get up for a drink I’ll be viewed as weak. Thank god I gulped an iced tea back just ten minutes ago in my room, though I may have to pretend I don’t need a bathroom break sometime soon.

‘Got it,’ I say with a salute and they all tap on their screens at once.

‘Joshua, there are twelve pens on the table. You took three. How many do you have?’

‘Three. I just took them.’

‘Take a thousand and add forty. Now add another thousand. Now add thirty. Add another thousand. Now add twenty. Now add another thousand. Now add ten. What is the total?

‘Four thousand, one hundred.’

‘You’re taking part in a race. You overtake the second person. What position are you in?’

‘First. No, wait. Second. Sorry. I’m second.’

More tapping on the iPads. There are over three hundred multiple choice questions, some of which are more difficult than others and some of which they tell me are worth more points. Roughly forty minutes into their interrogation my head starts pounding and I wish I’d drunk more water instead of just the iced tea. Damn. I keep my face neutral until the buzzing in my ears makes me miss some of what Lanie’s saying and I’m forced to ask her to repeat herself.

‘Are you feeling OK, Joshua?’ she asks, cocking her head and making her ponytail flop comically.

‘I’m feeling great,’ I lie.

‘Good. So, how many animals of each sex did Moses take on the ark? Three, five, fifteen or zero?’

‘Zero. Moses didn’t have an ark, Noah did.’

‘Excellent. We’re almost halfway through. You’re flying through these! Tina’s father has five daughters. Lana, Lene, Lini, Lono. What is the name of the fifth daughter?’

‘Tina,’ I say, but the cloud on Lanie’s shirt looks like it’s moving. The A/C feels like it’s sucking out my soul. I shut my mouth, bite the insides of my cheeks as the nerves block everything else out. It’s time.

‘Actually,’ I continue, leaning forward in my chair and making them all look up from their iPads, ‘there’s something I should probably say to you all before we go any further.’

“What is it?’ Lanie asks, raising perfectly waxed brows, and as I explain I watch as their faces work through a range of emotions. They’ll never know how many are raging through me, but I keep my face straight, my mission clear, and when we’re done Lanie’s smile isn’t any less bright.

’We appreciate you sharing, Joshua,’ she says, sincerely. ‘We’ll see you soon, I’m sure.’

I nod, stand, keep my back straight, adrenaline still pulsing through my veins.

On the way out of the boardroom, right before the pimply kid gets up in front of me and orders me to keep my eyes forward, I see a girl. Her brown eyes lock onto mine as I step over the threshold and in the space of a millisecond I take in her short black hair, pushed back with a green band; her knee-length purple dress bunched in at her small waist. I recognize her.

Time slows for a second as my sidekick closes in and I nod surreptitiously in her direction as I pass, keeping my face straight. A look of amusement crosses her features; the kind of animated expression that would usually make me turn back out of intrigue, but I’m frogmarched back down the hallway just as she’s called into the boardroom. Where have I seen her before?

I can still see her face in my head as I’m led back to my room. I shut the door on the kid, head to my backpack for some Advil. I’m already picturing her on an island with the turquoise sea behind her, standing there in some bikini and vine leaves, holding a spear. It’s stupid, but the vision makes my pulse throb and my palms sweat. She bothers me.

I down two pills with a mouthful of water, study my face in the mirror as I grip the basin. I’ve had no one else to bring this dream to life with so far. I’ve told no one I’m applying for Deserted; not Harri, not Mitchell, not even my mother. Out of nowhere now though, the way is clear but there’s another human standing in my path.

Maybe it’s the pimply kid; maybe it’s the intensity of everything I just had to go through, but as I stare at my reflection, survival mode kicks in. From out of nowhere an indelible line is drawn between myself and a girl I haven’t even met.