Half the World Away

By Jessica Skye Davies

Photographer Dade Faber keeps hoping for assignments on a big city beat, but time and again he’s sent into the wild. This time, he’s half the world away from London shooting the Australian bush. When Dade is nearly attacked by a crocodile, it leads to a shouting match with Elliot Harris, who owns Dade’s hotel. Elliot is both hot and persuasive, and when he offers to play tour guide, Dade accepts. After a week spent mostly together in the bush, Dade begins to fall for Elliott. The attraction is mutual, and when circumstances lead both men to London, they find they have much in common. But can their romance bridge the 10,000 miles between London and the Australian bush?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
• Release date: Oct 30, 2013
• ISBN: 9781627982696

Book preview

writer.

Chapter 1

BLOODY hell, Dade grumbled, swatting the bugs away from his face. Is there some reason they always stick me in the back of beyond? I can take pretty pictures of cities and beaches just as well as bleedin’ swamps and shite.

They probably know half your shots from a beach would be of boys in Speedos, Sheamus snickered. "I’m sure Jackson could appreciate those, but he might not want you taking them. We are close to the beach though."

Not at the moment we aren’t. Maybe it would be cool if I could give that forest surfing thing a go, but they’d hang me in accounting if they saw that on my expense sheet.

You could get some awesome shots, though. That might see them use a nice silk rope.

Dade glared at his writer/assistant. All right, let’s get outta here before we’re eaten alive. If I never see another fucking mangrove it’ll be too—

What? Sheamus asked when Dade stopped and peered closer at the water to their right.

Dunno, just thought I saw something move. Let’s go, Sheas, I don’t think I can stand to look at another weird lizard or whatever. Why the hell didn’t they send Philo? He’d love all this—

Just then there were simultaneous eruptions, one from the water and the other from down the path. The one from the water was a crocodile lunging toward them; the one from down the path was a shout to run. Dade and Sheamus had already decided on that course of action. They pelted past a big guy with a shotgun slung over his shoulder but didn’t pay much attention to him until they were all three out of the swamp forest and onto sandy land.

What in bloody blue blazing hell were you pair of drongos doing out there? the big guy shouted once he’d caught his breath. Didn’t ya take no notice of Baz on the way out? Those crocs have been amping up for a big to-do out there all fucking week! D’ya even know you were within cooee of comin’ a cropper?! If I hadn’t come down—

Why don’t you fucking speak English! You sound like a twonk and when I’m shouted at I damn well like to know what’s being said! Dade shouted back. It was only day one and he’d had enough of the whole assignment already—bugs, salamanders, and nearly being eaten by a crocodile—just so he could take some pictures of the wettest, least habitable place in the world, and now some giant wanker ticking him off in gibberish. It was more than one man could bear!

Why don’t you ask the people who sent us here two hundred years ago? Anyway, I’d rather be a bloody ocker from beyond the black stump than an up-meself fuckin’ whinging Pommy Brit!

Dade opened his mouth to retaliate, but Sheamus grabbed his arm. Let’s not start an international incident here. Let’s just thank the nice man for saving our hides, go back to the hotel bar, and drink till I quit shakin’, all right?

Nice man, my arse! And he did bugger all to save anything, we saved ourselves, Dade grumbled. Come on, let’s hit the bar, he said, turning back toward their hotel. It probably was a better idea to just ignore that big arsehole and get something to steady his nerves. He was glad the bar tab was going on his expense forms—wait till they saw that in accounting!

After a moment, Dade realized the Aussie with the big mouth (and big everything else) was following them. Why don’t you piss off? We’re not in any danger going back to the hotel bar, are we? Dade sneered.

The Aussie snorted. "You don’t look like you could even handle two stubbies without being in danger. That would be two small beers to you lot. Hate to burst your bubble, mate, but I’m not following you. I’m going back to work. At the hotel."

Bugger me, Dade groaned, realizing he was probably going to be bumping into his new friend all week.

There was no reply to that remark.

AS SOON as they got back to the hotel, Dade and Sheamus made a beeline for the bar. So did their companion. Dade, in annoyance, moved down to the far end. Sheamus followed him out of loyalty. The bartender poured them their requested doubles of Jameson’s. The big guy at the other end of the bar said he’d take the whole bottle, drawing Dade’s glare as if it were a challenge.

What’s got your knickers all in a twist, Hazzy? the bartender asked.

That silly galah over there and his off-sider nearly met the rough end of the pineapple out in the swamp. Baz told me a couple of Poms were goin’ out takin’ happy snaps and didn’t seem to pay much attention to the croc warning he gave ’em. So I headed out down the boardwalk to make sure they were still in one piece. Me and the salty found ’em at the same time. Fortunately Tick-Tock missed and I didn’t.

Listen, I don’t know what you’re calling me, but I didn’t hear any warnings before we went out this morning, Dade said loudly from his end of the bar. And we weren’t just out taking pictures like a couple of tourists. I’m a professional photojournalist and I—

Again Sheamus stopped Dade with a hand on his arm. Leave ’im be, Daze. You’re spoiling a perfectly good piss-up. I don’t need any more feckin’ drama today, all right?

Yeah, all right. Last fucking time I let Jacks pack me off to some bloody swamp. He better take me to Hawai’i for a fortnight after this cock up. Dade grumbled. ’M goin’ for a slash. Mind he doesn’t poison my drink.

Sheamus just shook his head as Dade walked away. After a moment, Sheamus got up and went down to the other end of bar. I’m runnin’ dry and I think you’ve got the only bottle of Jamie for miles around, Sheamus said with a grin. Now, I don’t want no trouble….

Nah, drink up, mate. You at least seem to have your head screwed on straight.

"Sláinte, Sheamus said, raising his refilled glass and then offering his hand. Sheamus Flannery, at your service. Incidentally, I apologize for Daze, I know he can be a right little crabby-arse when he wants to, but I’d personally appreciate not bein’ lumped in with the ‘poms.’"

Elliot Harris, Elliot said, accepting Sheamus’s handshake. And I take your point. Really, I don’t bear a grudge with anybody, but he just….

Pushed yer buttons? He’s a whiz at that, Sheamus said with a smirk. He’s not a bad guy, honestly, I think he’s just sore about getting stuck with this assignment. He’s more of a city-boy, y’know, and all this boggy stuff kinda puts him off.

Off all right, Elliot agreed. Are you blokes really doing this professionally? Yer not acting too professional. I mean, why wouldn’t you hire a guide if someone else is footing the bill?

Two questions I ask every bloody morning, mate. Daze doesn’t like getting a guide when he can avoid it. Thinks most guides overcharge for what’s basically a self-guided tour anyway.

They’re also pretty damn good at keepin’ numpties outta danger, Elliot smirked. Why don’t you tell ‘Daze’ he can hire me for little more than a brass razoo.

Guess that depends on what that works out to in British Pounds, Sheamus said.

There’s no such thing as razoos, Elliot said with a grin. Means I’ll do it for nothing.

Well, I personally appreciate that. I’ll have to run it by the limey though, Sheamus said.

Fraternizing with the enemy?