Candyland

Bestselling author Shaun Harmon believed money and success were his tickets to a worry-free life. But what he never saw coming was the ruthless storm lurking below the surface.

Amidst the glitz and glamour, danger lurks in every shadow...

From the glittering heights of his newfound wealth to the sprawling expanse of his dream home in the exclusive enclave of Willows, New Jersey, Shaun's world seems charmed. But beneath the glossy surface lies a dark underbelly of deception and betrayal.

Passions ignite, secrets ignite, and danger ignites...

Caught in a web of seduction and intrigue, Shaun finds himself torn between the allure of his enigmatic new girlfriend’s secrets and the siren call of her alluring half-sister.

A sinister dance of desire and death...

But it's not just his heart that's in peril. With a target on his back and danger around every corner, Shaun's fight for survival becomes a race against insidious forces that want him silenced forever.

A relentless force with chilling secrets to keep.

Now, he's a hunted man, racing against time to escape the clutches of a bloodthirsty psychopath who hungers for his end.

Unveil the horrifying truth of a town built on deception....

In his desperate quest, Shaun stumbles upon the twisted core of his new town's darkest secret - a malevolent tradition that has endured for decades, hidden from the world at any cost.

Will he unravel the mystery before it's too late?

Shaun navigates a world where nothing is as it seems, and survival is the ultimate prize. Shaun has to uncover the truth or be consumed by it. The clock is ticking...

CANDYLAND is the explosive, unputdownable thriller from Hugh O. Smith.

HERE'S WHAT READERS LIKE YOU SAID

“A fun, sexy romp. Breezy, page turner and a good time. Very much enjoyed.”

“Excellent! Candyland had me on the edge of my seat. The book is full of surprises and lots of action.”

“Filled with many twists and turns, truly a book that captivates you.”

“I always like a good mystery and this one was a fun read with some good turns in the story!”

“It was a great read that kept you entertained and wanting more.”

“Hugh's style of writing paints a picture throughout the entire book. His attention to detail really helps make not only this book, but all of them come to life.”

“My first time reading this author and I can admit I cared very much for each and every character. Smith's prose is very similar to Walter Mosley's early material. The final twist hooked me and reeled me in. Very good read.”

Enjoy an excerpt from CANDYLAND.

Chapter One

Shaun sprinted through the back door, past the pool, and onto the broad expanse of lawn. Adrenaline heightened his senses and gave him a strange clarity. Every blade of grass stood out in high definition, and the fireflies flickering lights stood in stark relief against the dark backdrop of Willows Lake. He felt his daughter’s dead weight in his arms and her terrified breaths, hot against his neck.

The adrenaline also gave him the gift of calm. He should be panicked, but he wasn’t. All he could think about was how to use this experience in his next novel. After all, Shaun Harmon novels were known for moments like this, hurt and bleeding heroes running in the dark using their wits to escape harm and defeat the bad guys. If he were writing this scene, his hero would be injured but eerily calm, working out the ways to use items around him as weapons even as he weakened from blood loss.

Shaun ran across the grass, his mind working to find a way to describe what was happening.

Early evening had given way to full-on night. Fireflies were the only light, but terror heightened his senses and his eyes adjusted quickly to the gloom. The grass was damp from the evening’s rain, soaking his bare feet and the cuffs of his jeans as he ran.

That was okay, he thought, but not dramatic enough.

He looked right, then left.

Nowhere to run except straight ahead into the dark waters of Willows Lake.

Too dramatic, he thought, and not strictly true. He had choices. He could...

Tanya’s frightened breathing in his ear brought him back to reality. Usually, he couldn’t shut her up, but now her wide and terrified eyes did all the talking.

“It’s gonna be okay, baby, don’t worry, everything’s gonna be okay,” he whispered to her as they ran.

He hoped.

Shaun ran around to the side of the house. He stuck close to the building, cursing the floodlights that activated at his movement. His Range Rover was in the driveway, and his hopes flared but were dashed a moment later when he realized that it sat on slashed tires.

“Fuck,” he hissed under his breath.

Under normal circumstances, Tanya was quick to admonish her father when he let loose the occasional swear word, but terror had rendered her mute. Once again, he peered around the corner, looking and listening for their assailant. Seeing and hearing nothing, Shaun hurried across the driveway and took refuge behind his SUV. There was no sign of their attacker, and he took a moment to smooth Tanya’s hair out of her eyes.

“It’s gonna be okay, Princess,” he said again, trying to sound convincing. Tanya’s eyes were wide open, and staring down at his side.

Shaun didn’t look.

He didn’t have to; he could feel his t-shirt sticking to his skin, soaked with blood. There was no pain yet, adrenaline was likely delaying its onset, but Shaun had no doubt it would come soon. In his second book, Van Cortland, his hero was injured by a serial killer operating in the Bronx. He’d had his hero chew periwinkle leaves and apply them to the wound to staunch the blood flow. Or was it dandelion? He couldn’t remember. His friend Nelson’s aged Abuela had told him about healing herbs while he wrote the novel. She had insisted on taking him out and showing him how to chew the bitter leaves and apply them to the wound.

He put his hand to his side, and it came away wet and red with blood. The knife had been so sharp the cut was almost painless. He’d only realized he was hurt when...

Oh, now you want to write, he admonished himself silently. He should be running for his life, their lives, but his mind kept trying to find the words. Writer’s block had plagued him for months, and it was now in the most unlikely of moments that the words came to him again.

He knew they had to keep moving, but he hesitated a second longer, trying to stay calm long enough to weigh his options. His first thought was to return to the back of the house, but there was nothing for them there except the dark waters of Willows Lake (maybe that line would work after all) and the dilapidated boathouse that he’d been meaning to have demolished since he bought the home six months ago. He glanced out at the lights twinkling in the houses on the lake’s far shore. There were far more homes there than on this side; if he were alone, he would chance the half-mile swim but attempting it with his terrified daughter was out of the question.

He thought to creep along the trees that lined his driveway until they reached the main road, but with Tanya in his arms, his wound, and no shoes on his feet, he doubted he would get very far.

The Murphy estate was to his west, but it was over three-quarters of a mile away; they’d never make it. His neighbors to the east, the Kings, were much closer, but their house was empty. There was no one there and no help for him. An elderly couple, the Kings spent much of the year in their Florida home. Then he remembered the old Duracraft fishing boat that Gerry King kept. The Kings had invited Shaun and Tanya over shortly after they’d moved in, and Gerry had proudly showed off the lovingly maintained boat he’d rescued from a junkyard and restored. Shaun didn’t know the first thing about boats; sailing hadn’t been a part of his Bronx upbringing, but he figured that he could at least start it if they made it to the boathouse. They didn’t have to go far, only to the other side of the lake - then they would be safe. A course of action decided; he glanced toward the house again, then ducked into the trees.

Five minutes later, Shaun and Tanya emerged onto the edges of the King’s property. There was no sign of anyone about, but Shaun paused and sat down in the dirt at the tree line. Tanya was a very petite child, one of the smallest in her Kindergarten class but terror made her a dead weight in his arms that was becoming heavier by the minute.

“Let’s rest here, honey,” he said, trying to put her down.

The scared little girl shook her head frantically and held onto her father for dear life.

“We’re only going to rest for a minute, Princess. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

Gradually, Tanya loosened her grip, and he placed her on the warm dirt. Her eyes were wide in the dark, and he kissed her forehead gently.

“We’re going to be all right, honey, don’t you worry,” he said.

He knelt in the dirt next to his daughter, looking and listening. The King’s property was dark except for a dim spotlight that illuminated the front of the massive home, and except for the cicadas, there was no sound.

Shaun mapped out the route in his mind, then turned to his daughter.

“We’re going to run into the King’s backyard, go get Mr. King’s boat, and ride across the lake. Sound good?”

Tanya’s response was to hold up her arms, and Shaun lifted her and held her close. She snuggled her face into the space between his neck and shoulder and wrapped her tiny arms tightly around his neck.

Shaun took one more look around, then, keeping low, ran along the side of the King’s property, hugging the tree line. They were at the back of the King’s property a minute later,  and he paused again, peering hard into the darkness for any sign of movement. Seeing none, he ran down the slope of King’s back lawn and down the steps to the dock and the boathouse.

Now that they were here, he began to question his idea. What if the boathouse was locked? What if the boat was in dry-dock already? What if he couldn’t get it started? He shook off the doubts and turned the boathouse doorknob. The door pushed open with a tiny squeak that sounded as loud as a gunshot in the darkness. Shaun put Tanya down and stood for a moment to get his eyes used to the murk.

The boathouse was large and immaculately kept. There were two spaces for boats, one occupied with the Duracraft, the other empty. On each wall were shelves and hooks that held the various canoes and kayaks that the King’s grandchildren were constantly paddling on the lake.

Shaun recalled Gerry King explaining that the boat was relatively small, only seventeen feet, but it loomed huge in front of them in the darkness. Shaun lifted Tanya onto the deck and opened the hatch he remembered led to a storage compartment below.

“Get down there, honey,” he whispered. “We’ll be safe soon.”

Tanya quickly did as her father said, and Shaun sat in the pilot’s seat, trying to remember Gerry’s lessons. The throttle was to his right, and he put the engine in neutral and began to turn the key but stopped when he realized that the boat was still tethered to the dock. He jumped off the boat, hearing the squeak of the door opening as he began to untie the line.

“So predictable,” a voice said.

Shaun turned to see the business end of an oar coming hard and fast at his face. He ducked, and the oar passed harmlessly over his head, but as he moved backward, he tripped over the line that tethered the boat to its berth. Shaun fell hard; the breath knocked from his body. He jumped up quickly and ducked another blow that again missed his head but struck his shoulder a glancing blow that caused him to stumble backward. Flailing wildly for balance, his hand found the material of his attacker’s shirt, and they stumbled back together then fell into the dark water and quickly sank as the terrified Tanya screamed for her father.