Blog Tour: In Another Life by C.C. Hunter

What would you do if your whole life was a lie and learning the truth could cost you your life? 

From New York Times bestselling author of the Shadow Falls series comes C. C. Hunter’s new YA thriller about a girl who learns that she may have been kidnapped as a child, and must race to uncover the truth about her past before she winds up a victim.

Chloe was three years old when she became Chloe Holden, but her adoption didn’t scar her, and she’s had a great life. Now, fourteen years later, her loving parents’ marriage has fallen apart and her mom has moved them to Joyful, Texas. Starting twelfth grade as the new kid at school, everything Chloe loved about her life is gone. And feelings of déjà vu from her early childhood start haunting her.

When Chloe meets Cash Colton she feels drawn to him, as though they're kindred spirits. Until Cash tells her the real reason he sought her out: Chloe looks exactly like the daughter his foster parents lost years ago, and he’s determined to figure out the truth.

As Chloe and Cash delve deeper into her adoption, the more things don’t add up, and the more strange things start happening. Why is Chloe’s adoption a secret that people would kill for?
In Another Life, is a new YA Thriller by C.C. Hunter, the author who wrote the Shadow Fall series - a series I had so much fun reading. I'm excited to be able to be a part of In Another Life's blog tour and share my thoughts and even an excerpt from the story with all of you.

First of all, the concept of the story was highly intriguing. I think my mom's obsession with watching crime shows must have rubbed off on me because I take any chance to read mysteries when one intrigues me like In Another Life did. The mystery was definitely the best part of the story because it kept me wondering if Chloe was kidnapped and if so, by who? Chloe's adoptive parents were going through a divorce and her mom especially could be bitter and vicious so I already was side-eyeing her. But there are so many things that come into play and I wondered what was true or if there was going to be a huge twist at the end. I was pleasantly surprised how everything came together near the closing of the story which is always good when you are reading a mystery.

I will say that I didn't absolutely love the romance. It started a bit off putting and it was a bit fast. I preferred the focus on the possibility of a kidnapping and the struggles both characters were facing beyond the main storyline. Chloe with her parents divorce and acting more like an adult to her mom than a daughter. Cash with feeling like he doesn't deserve his foster family's affection. Overall, I think if you enjoy C.C. Hunter's other work I can easily see you enjoying In Another Life

“What are you doing?” I ask when Dad pulls over at a con­venience store only a mile from where Mom and I are now living. My voice sounds rusty after not talking during the five­ hour ride. But I was afraid that if I said anything, it would all spill out: My anger. My hurt. My disappointment in the man who used to be my superhero. “I need gas and a bathroom,” he says. “Bathroom? So you can’t even come in to see Mom when you drop me off?” My heart crinkles up like a used piece of aluminum foil. 
He meets my eyes, ignores my questions, and says, “You want anything?” 
“Yeah. My freaking life back!” I jump out of the car and slam the door so hard, the sound of the metal hitting metal cracks in the hot Texas air. I haul ass across the parking lot, watching my white sandals eat up the pavement, hiding the sheen of tears in my eyes. 
“Chloe,” Dad calls out. I move faster. 

Eyes still down, I yank open the door, bolt inside the store, and smack right into someone. Like, my boobs smash against someone’s chest. 
“Crap,” a deep voice growls. A Styrofoam cup hits the ground. Frozen red slushie explodes all over my white sandals. The cup lands on its side, bleeding red on the white tile. 
I swallow the lump in my throat and jerk back, removing my B cup boobs from some guy’s chest. 
“Sorry,” he mutters, even though it’s my fault. I force myself to look up, seeing first his wide chest, then his eyes and the jet­ black hair scattered across his brow. Great! Why couldn’t he be some old fart? 
I return to his bright green eyes and watch as they shift from apologetic to shocked, then to angry. 
I should say something— like, add my own apology— but the lump in my throat returns with a vengeance. 

“Shit.” The word sneaks through his frown. Yeah, all of this is shit! I hear Dad call my name again from outside. 
My throat closes tighter and tears sting my eyes. Embarrassed to cry in front of a stranger, I snatch off my sandals and dart to a cooler. 
Opening the glass door, I stick my head in needing a cool down. I swat a few stray tears off my cheeks. Then I feel someone next to me. Dad’s not letting this go. 

“Just admit you screwed up!” I look over and am swallowed by those same angry light green eyes from a minute ago. “I thought you were . . . Sorry,” I say, knowing it’s late for an apology. His look is unsettling. 
He continues to glare. An all­ in­ my­ face kind of glare. As if this is more than a spilled slushie to him. 
“I’ll pay for it.” When he doesn’t even blink, I add an­other, “I’m sorry.” 
“Why are you here?” His question seethes out. “What? Do I know you?” I know I was rude, but— hotness aside— this guy is freaking me out. 
His eyes flash anger. “What do you want?” His tone car­ries an accusation I don’t understand. 
“What do you mean?” I counter. “What ever you’re trying to pull, don’t do it.” He’s still staring me down. And I feel like I’m shrinking in his glare. 
“I’m not . . . You must have me mixed up with someone else.” I shake my head, unsure if this guy’s as crazy as he is sexy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. But I said I’m sorry.” I grab a canned drink and barefoot, carrying sticky sandals, hurry to the front of the store. 

Dad walks in, scowling. “Careful,” a cashier says to Dad while mopping up the slushie just inside the door. 
“Sorry,” I mutter to the worker, then point to Dad. “He’s paying for my Dr Pepper! And for that slushie.” 
I storm off to the car, get in, and hold the cold Diet Dr Pepper can to my forehead. The hair on the back of my neck starts dancing. I look around, and the weird hot guy is stand­ing outside the store, staring at me again. 
What ever you’re trying to pull, don’t do it. Yup, crazy. I look away to escape his gaze. Dad climbs back in the car. He doesn’t start it, just sits there, eyeball­ing me. “You know this isn’t easy for me either.” 
“Right.” So why did you leave? He starts the car, but before we drive off, I look around again and see the dark­ haired boy standing in the parking lot, writing on the palm of his hand. 
Is he writing down Dad’s license plate number? He’s a freak. I almost say something to Dad but remember I’m pissed at him. 

Dad pulls away. I focus on the rearview mirror. The hot guy stays there, eyes glued on Dad’s car, and I stay glued on him until he’s nothing but a speck in the mirror. 

C.C. HUNTER is a pseudonym for award-winning romance author Christie Craig. She is lives in Tomball, Texas, where she’s at work on her next novel.

Christie's books include The Mortician's Daughter series, Shadow Fall Novels and This Heart of Mine.

Have you read any of C.C. Hunter's books?
What are your favorite type of mysteries?


  1. The concept sounds super interesting!

    Lotte |

  2. I love the sound of this one and I'm a huge fan of mysteries. I haven't had the best luck finding good ones in YA but there have been exceptions. I'll have to check this out. :)


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