The Suddenly Collection

By Jamie Campbell

One chance encounter that changes her life.

Sixteen-year-old Bliss Watson lived a completely ordinary life until the day she was discovered by a talent scout. Thrust into an audition for the next hit teen television drama, she realizes it’s the one thing she’s always wanted but never knew.

While going through the whole crazy audition process, Bliss runs into Merrick Moon, the boy who would also change her life. Falling heal-over-heels in love, she quickly realizes the mysterious boy is not who she thought he was.

When a new relationship and an acting dream collide, the only thing Bliss can do is hang on for what promises to be one wild ride. In the first in the Suddenly Series, follow Bliss as she traverses the funny thing called show business.

This is the complete collection of the Suddenly series. Save money by purchasing all together. Included are these titles:

Suddenly Famous
Suddenly in Love
Suddenly in Demand
Suddenly a Star

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jamie Campbell
• Release date: Aug 19, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463043622

Jamie Campbell

Jamie was born into a big, crazy family of 6 children. Being the youngest, she always got away with anything and would never shut up. Constantly letting her imagination run wild, her teachers were often frustrated when her 'What I did on the weekend' stories contained bunyips and princesses.Growing up, Jamie did the sensible things and obtained a Bachelor of Business degree from Southern Cross University and worked hard to gain her membership with the Institute of Chartered Accountants in Australia.Yet nothing compared to writing. Quiting the rat race to spend quality time with her laptop named Lily, Jamie has written several novels and screenplays. Spanning a number of genres and mediums, Jamie writes whatever inspires her from ghost stories to teenage love stories to tantalising murder mysteries. Nothing is off limits.A self-confessed television addict, dog lover, Taylor Swift fan, and ghost hunter, Jamie loves nothing more than the thrill of sharing her stories.

Book preview

Suddenly Famous

Chapter 1

If there was one place on earth that would test a person’s ability to see themselves as a normal human being, it was in Room 2B of the Globe Hotel.

Beautiful people that were as tall as Amazonian warriors milled around me. Their long, luxurious hair hung down their backs, their six inch heels clicked on the same floor that I found slippery. If I was wearing those toe-destroying heels, I would have fallen down hours ago.

Their designer clothes were pretty sparse, only covering what they really needed to. Perfect skin, perfect curves, not an inch of fat on them.

A part of me really hated them.

Everyone surveyed each other like they were the enemy, shooting judgmental glares at anyone that fell into their line of sight. Yep, I was definitely in the wrong place.

But we weren’t in the conference room for me. I was a tagalong, there to keep my best friend, Cleo, company. She insisted she couldn’t audition for Next Mega Model without a cheer squad.

And I was that squad.

Cleo fit in perfectly with the other freaks of nature. She was tall, slim, and her amber hair fell right to her waist without even the slightest hint of a curl or wave. She was made for clothes, a designer’s dream.

Me, on the other hand, well. My eighth grade boyfriend called me fun size, as in those little chocolate bars that were tiny. I punched him on the arm for that comment. Mainly because it was true.

I was short, only 5’2" which seemed midget-sized compared to my present company. I had to look up just to see their faces (which were dazzling and perfect, of course). My hair was curly, a dirty blond that was neither dark nor light. It was unruly on its best day.

Oooh, I’m up, Cleo said, standing. Wish me luck.

I stood with her, giving her a quick hug. You don’t need luck. You’re going to kill it. I’ll see you afterwards.

She gave me a nervous smile before following the line of girls into the next room. She had made it through three rounds of eliminations so far which meant she got to see the real judges in front of the television cameras now.

She was going to kill it.

Cleo was a born performer. She would dazzle the judges, the camera would love her, and she’d walk out of there with the golden ticket everyone would fight to the death over.

Well, almost, anyway. Maybe not to the death. This wasn’t the Hunger Games.

It was going to be a while until they returned so I took the opportunity to get some food. A modelling competition wasn’t exactly catered but there had to be some food around somewhere.

The hotel was a bust. I wandered outside and down the street. It took two blocks before I found a small courtyard of takeaway food places. I lined up for a burger, both guilty and smug that I was eating the greasy food after spending all morning with model wannabes.

I took my tray to a table and didn’t hesitate to get started. If I had to give up greasy burgers, I wouldn’t want to be a model. Even if I was ten feet tall and so beautiful people wanted to cry just looking at me.

I didn’t need that kind of hassle.

About halfway through the delicious meal, I noticed a guy staring at me from across the courtyard. He was probably in his late twenties or early thirties, if I had to guess. He was wearing a polo shirt with the top few buttons undone. He didn’t exactly look like a creeper but he was certainly staring at me like one.

I tried to ignore him, turning around so he could only see my back and my eyeballs couldn’t fall on him. But somehow that only made it worse, like he could sneak up on me now.

I finished the burger in a hurry, probably giving myself indigestion in the process. Scrunching up the paper, I threw it in the trash and headed back to the hotel.

It took every piece of my self-control not to look back. But when that faltered, I saw the same guy following me. It was a public street but I had sat through enough stranger danger talks in school to be terrified of anyone paying me too much attention.

I fastened my pace as the hotel loomed in the distance like a mockery of safety. I briefly wondered if the snobs inside would offer me any kind of protection. Probably not. They wouldn’t even notice me unless I staggered in with a knife in my back.

Excuse me, the man said. I pretended I hadn’t heard. Miss, please, just stop.

I powered on, thankful again that I wasn’t wearing the model uniform of six inch heels. My black ballet flats were much more conducive to fleeing from an ax murderer.

Had I seen an ax? I couldn’t remember one.

I made it one block. Then two. The hotel lobby was in sight but the man’s footsteps were getting louder behind me.

Hey, just stop for a moment, he said one last time, stepping in front of me. His arm jutted out, preventing me from going forwards.

I’ll scream, I warned him. My God, I would scream my lungs out if he touched me.

It’s okay, I don’t want to hurt you. Up close, I could see he was sweating. Apparently he wasn’t very fit. Nor was he ugly, his honey colored hair picked up the light and splayed it everywhere.

What do you want then? I asked, keen to get whatever this was over and done with.

He used his free hand to pull a piece of card out of his pocket. He handed it to me—it was a business card. Donald McKee, Talent Scout.

Chapter 2

You’re a talent scout?

Donald nodded, puffing in some breath. He seriously needed to hit the gym every once in a while. I’m currently looking for girls about your age for some projects. You would be perfect.

Yeah, right. Nice pick up line buddy. I lived in Los Angeles, everyone was looking for someone for a project. All the girls knew it was code for something else.

Something I didn’t want anything to do with.

Give me a call at this number, I really think you have something special, Donald said. Unless you want to go ahead and make an appointment with me now?

Ugh.

No, thanks.

He took his arm back and let me leave. I didn’t waste a moment in getting out of there. I considered myself lucky I wasn’t kidnapped or something worse.

The waiting area was still exactly as I had left it—full of nervous energy and high heels. Plus, the glamazons, of course.

I took my seat and waited for Cleo to return. My mind kept drifting back to the business card burning a hole in my pocket.

It was stupid to even give it a thought. Donald McKee—if that was his real name—probably gave out dozens of those cards every day. It didn’t mean he was actually a talent scout. It could just mean he was creepy.

Cleo agreed when she finally joined me. Burn it. It’s just a scam. You’ll probably rock up at his basement office that is actually his bedroom at his parents’ house. Then you’ll audition by doing some ‘tasteful’ nude photos that he will subsequently drool over. Burn it.

I couldn’t argue with that logic.

I threw the card into my handbag, never to give it another undeserved thought. I mean, seriously, why would a talent scout want me anyway? If he really wanted someone beautiful, he would be in this room ogling the model wannabes.

Cleo got through to the next round which resulted in another few hours’ worth of waiting. Finally, it was the last round and I gave her a big hug before she went inside with the judges.

Another half hour later, a string of girls emerged from the room. Most were crying. I quickly scanned the crowd, putting together my best pep talk if the worst had happened.

Cleo emerged as one of the last few stragglers came through the door.

She was grinning from ear to ear.

I ran up to her, unable to wait until she reached me. So? Tell me you got in!

She nodded. I got in. Can you believe it? I’m going to be on television!

We hugged, jumping up and down with the excitement. The judges would have been crazy if they didn’t take her. Cleo was a model, she was born for this. She deserved every moment of her screen time.

We should go celebrate, I said. This is a monumental occasion.

Darn right it is. She still couldn’t wipe the grin from her face. I didn’t blame her. If I had just been chosen for one of the biggest reality shows on TV, I would have been doing cartwheels.

I texted the usual gang to meet us at the Sugar Stack ASAP. I didn’t tell them the good news, that was for Cleo to announce.

We drove downtown through the Saturday afternoon traffic. It wasn’t as bad as the weekday congestion, but it was still only moving at a snail’s pace. By the time we walked into the Sugar Stack, where they made the world’s best pancakes, everyone was already waiting for us.

Our regular gang was all there. Bella, the hipster with thick black rimmed classes (and twenty-twenty vision, I might add), Joel, who was still suffering from the break up with his boyfriend (it was almost three months ago, he had attachment issues), and Aria, the sweetest person alive.

So? What’s the cause for a group assembly? Joel asked. he leaned forward eagerly, like we were about to divulge a mind-blowing secret.

I looked at Cleo, giving her the stage. She was still glowing. I got in! I’m going to be on Next Mega Model!

They made so much noise, other patrons started to stare at us. The general consensus was a hearty congratulations. We took a seat and ordered a round of pancakes—stacked with maple syrup, of course.

That’s fantastic, Aria said after everything died down. She never made much noise, I think it would frighten her if she whooped. You’re going to be our claim to fame. We’ll be able to tell everyone we know that girl off Next Mega Model.

If you make it to the public voting rounds, we’ve totally got your back, Bella added.

Guys, Cleo started, "Of course I’m going to make it to public voting. Those judges were eating out of the palm of my hand."

I didn’t doubt it. I was surprised they didn’t announce her the winner today to save all the hassle of conducting the entire show. It would have saved them some money.

Bella pulled out her phone. We can tweet about this, right? I want to put the word out about my famous friend.

Go ahead, Cleo replied casually. After that, everyone took their phones out and started spreading the news. Cleo was going to be our school’s celebrity within the hour.

Within about five minutes, her phone was beeping with new messages. She didn’t even look at them, which kind of made me happy. All her true friends were seated at the table, not sucking up to her after hearing the news.

As we enjoyed the pancakes, I looked around at the faces of my friends. I got the sinking feeling that something was going to change soon. Maybe it would be Cleo’s sudden fame, maybe it was going to be something else.

Whatever it was, I doubted we would have many more opportunities to sit around indulging in pancakes without a problem in the world.

And, boy, was I right.

Chapter 3

School on Monday was typical—the Cleo show. She spent all day accepting congratulations with more diplomacy than I would have.

Tuesday was the same. In fact, the entire week went like that. I stuck to her side, making sure she remained grounded—and guarded.

I had completely forgotten about the talent scout until I found his card in my handbag when I was looking for some tissues. In fact, it gave me a papercut.

Damn it, I swore under my breath.

It probably was just a scam. But the guy had seemed genuine. Maybe I was being ridiculous and naïve, but before I could stop myself, I was dialing the number.

Donald McKee didn’t answer, but his receptionist did. I made an appoint for the next day—Saturday. I was either making a really big mistake, wasting my time, or doing something great.

Time would tell.

The only person I told about the meeting was my science partner, Matty. Mainly because I had an ulterior motive. I need you to come along and be my bodyguard.

He laughed, the amusement hitting his green eyes behind his dorky plastic safety goggles. If you need a bodyguard, do you really think it’s a good idea going in the first place?

He had a point, but the call had already been made. I had partnered with Matty in science class at the beginning of the year and I was so happy I did. Not only was he amazingly brilliant in the lab, but he was also on the football team. Which meant fit, well-muscled, and had a whole lot of hotness going on.

Overall, a win-win situation for me.

Please? Will you do it? I need to know whether the guy is legit, I begged. That’s right, I wasn’t above begging. If he isn’t, then we can leave with no harm done.

Except to my busy schedule.

Please?

He tipped the contents of his beaker into the test tube, turning the clear liquid blue. I hoped that was what was supposed to happen. I guess so. But you’re going to owe me one.

Anything you want.

Anything? He raised one eyebrow in question and I swatted at his arm in response.

"I reserve the right to define anything at some point," I replied.

With that sorted, the only thing left to do was wait anxiously for the meeting. Which seemed to come around much sooner than I expected.

We scouted out the address on the business card an hour before my scheduled appointment. It was a sleek, modern building full of shiny glass windows.

Watching the people go in and out, I noticed there weren’t too many considering it was a Saturday morning. The ones that did turn up wore the telltale scowl that screamed they didn’t want to be there.

The whole building looked to be a real office building, the place where a real talent scout might rent a space. It gave me enough confidence to attempt to go inside.

Matty and I stood in the elevator, not talking. He was probably as relieved as I was that the office wasn’t in some dingy basement. Surely Donald McKee had to be somewhat legitimate if he could afford a swish place like this?

He even had a real receptionist.

And a boardroom.

This guy might be legit, Matty whispered as we waited alone in the room.

Maybe. But I wasn’t going to get my hopes up too much. Looks could be deceiving. I knew that from past experience.

Donald McKee, in all his glory, entered the room shortly afterwards. His face wore a wide grin, reminding me of a clown at a circus. I’m so glad you decided to call after all. You know, I kicked myself for not even getting your name the other day.

I shook his hand. Bliss Watson. And this is my friend Matty Burns.

He shook Matty’s hand next and we all sat down around the overly large table. My plan was to let Donald do all the talking. I wanted to see whether he would trip up and reveal something he didn’t intend to. So I clamped my mouth in a smile and waited.

I didn’t have to wait long. "So, Bliss, like I said last weekend, I’m looking to cast a role and I think you’re perfect for it. You’ve got the right look, the right feel. Can you act?"

I guess. I was once in