When former Olympic champion, Michael Adams—now Canada’s hottest reality TV star—insults his fake showbiz wife on social media, he jumps on the first flight to Australia to escape the ensuing scandal. Desperate to experience ordinary life again—if only for a few weeks—he becomes “Adam”; just another tourist exploring the dusty Outback trails in a beat up truck. But with a reward out for his safe return and his fame’s nasty habit of catching up with him when he least expects, Adam needs a better disguise… and he’s just found one.
Tired of lies and liars, British Backpacker Evie Blake is taking a year out of her busy London life, looking for adventure to heal her broken heart. So when the hot Canadian she meets at the campground offers to drive her through Western Australia’s wild Kimberley region, she grabs the chance, unaware he has the world out looking for him. He’s just a down-on-his-luck traveler, right?
But when hot days turn into even hotter nights, how long does Adam have before Evie discovers who he really is?
If you want my opinion, it sounds amazing.
OK, so do you have a cup of tea… biscuits… a comfy chair? Excellent. Keep reading and enjoy.
***** beginning of extract*****
Extract intro: Her Outback Driver:
“Adam” is a Canadian celebrity-sportsman on the run from scandal, pretending to be an ordinary tourist on the Australian backpacker trail. Evie is a British backpacker working as a cleaner at the campground she’s been staying at. Adam has just arrived at the campground, very hot and very dirty after a few days on the road…
He grabbed his gel and towel, and stepped out of the truck. Man, this heat was intense. The air thick and heavy like soup. He wiped the towel over his sweat-slicked face, desperate for cold water on his skin. But when he reached the shower block, a sign stood in his way.
Closed for cleaning.
No frickin’ way.
“Hello?” he called, but when no reply came back, he stepped inside, thinking what the hell? He stripped and stood under the shower, turning the dial full blast toward the blue arrow. He’d be thirty seconds, sixty tops—just long enough to feel something cold on his skin and wash away the three-day grime. By the time the cleaning guy returned, he’d be cooled off, semi-dressed and out.
Only the water wasn’t cold and the cleaning guy not a guy at all.
Adam wiped soapy water from his eyes and focused on the figure standing before him. The cleaning guy was a young woman with huge brown eyes and sun-streaked hair scraped back into a tight knot on the top of her head, just like his favorite aunt Florence used to wear. Except Aunt Flo’s hair was gray and looked like wire, and she’d never before stood outside his shower gawping at his naked penis—unlike this bug-eyed stranger.
“The showers are closed,” the woman said to his bare butt as he whipped around. Her accent was flat and clipped—British—like royalty, though looking over his shoulder he saw nothing regal about her. She was dressed in dark green shorts and a dirty light-blue vest, damp with patches of sweat or water, or both. White earphones dangled around her neck. He turned off the shower.
“Didn’t you notice the bright yellow sign? The cleaning bucket? The distinct lack of shower curtain?”
Well, he’d ignored the sign and bucket, obviously, and throughout his career, he’d been in plenty of changing rooms at top sporting venues around the world all boasting a distinct lack of shower curtain. Okay, they were all a lot nicer than this dump, but he’d never been in a place like this before so how would he know?
“If you’d be so kind as to pass me my towel, I’ll get out of your way.”
She handed it to him, finally lifting her gaze to his face. Her eyes narrowed. He narrowed his own back, already picturing the headlines.by
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