Today we welcome Ashe Barker's
A chance meeting, two strangers whose paths cross—in the same place at the same time, yet a world apart.
When mining engineer Ethan Savage spots the cloaked, veiled woman riding a donkey in the Moroccan desert, he can be forgiven for thinking that in some respects nothing much has changed in two thousand years. She wouldn’t look out of place in Biblical times. They pass, nod, smile politely and go their separate ways, two strangers a world apart.
But when, moments later, she rescues him from his crashed car, the first words she utters make Ethan realise that appearances can be deceptive. His little Berber peasant is not what she seems.
Shifting effortlessly between her traditional roots in the foothills of the Atlas Mountains and her professional life as the Totally Five Star hotel doctor, Fleur is a human chameleon, able to adapt and blend into any environment. At first irritated then amused by the handsome stranger, Fleur knows the assumptions he’s made about her. As their paths cross once more at the luxurious hotel, she realises he, too, is not all he seems. This sexy Englishman holds the key to her most secret and sensual desires, dangerous yearnings she’s kept locked away for years. Now she has a choice to make.
Ethan is only in Marrakesh for a few days, then he’ll be gone and she’ll never see him again. No one will ever know, so surely it will do no harm? Can she pass up this opportunity? And once she’s trusted him with her body, experienced all he can offer, will she be able to return to her old life? Or will the sensual chameleon need to reinvent herself once again to fit into his world?
The girl—Fleur—nodded and scurried around to the boot. Her brief absence allowed Ethan, and his rampant cock, some respite. Christ, she was lovely. His first thought as he had opened his eyes after the bang on his head was that he must have died and was meeting his first angel. Then his beautiful guardian spirit had shone that fucking torch in his eyes. Christ, what was that about? She did seem to have some medical knowledge, because the collar she’d improvised was effective, if unnecessary. She’d insisted on checking his pulse and repeating her trick with the torch a couple of times since, and for now, seemed satisfied that he was not about to expire. However, that could change if he didn’t get out of this heat sometime soon.
Ethan raised the vehicle up slightly then went around to the battered wheel while it still rested on the ground. He knelt beside it and loosened each of the four wheel nuts then went back to pumping the jack.
“Tell me when the wheel’s clear of the ground, Fleur.”
“Yes, sir.” She stationed herself beside the car to watch.
Sir. He liked the sound of that from her, though he knew she meant it merely as an appropriate term of respect for a stranger. There was sir, and there was Sir.
But alas, not with her. Ethan knew better than to mess around with local women. There was no surer way to screw up a promising international career than to outrage local sensibilities. He’d worked in enough Muslim countries over the years that he knew the score. He had no intention of compromising himself or of upsetting pretty little Fleur. Not that the girl seemed especially daunted by him, even at his sternest.
He shook his head, giving himself a mental telling off. He must stop thinking of her as girl. That would never do.
“It is clear now. Shall I remove the nuts?”
Ethan loved the sound of her accented English. He noticed that she never used contractions. It was sweet. And vaguely exotic. He couldn’t fault her English, though, nor her French, from what little he’d heard of it. She was clearly well educated.
“Sir? Ethan? Your nuts?”
Shit! He groaned as the nuts in his jeans tightened. “What? Oh, yes. I already loosened them.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“It’s Ethan.” He was trying to rein in his natural dominance, but some habits die hard and he detected a distinct growl in his tone. She could not have missed it.
She seemed disinclined to comment, thank God. Fleur nodded and set to removing the wheel nuts. She shoved each one in her pocket, probably to keep the car key company, he mused. Ethan heaved the wheel off and carried it around to drop it into the boot before slotting the replacement onto the four screws. He held out his hand and Fleur dropped each of the nuts back into his palm, as he needed them.
“So, what about your donkey? If you insist on driving me back into Marrakesh, you can’t just leave him here and I don’t see him fitting in the back seat somehow.”
He noticed that she added his name in response to his raised eyebrow and he couldn’t help wondering how strong her urge to obey actually was. His cock twitched maddeningly.
“As soon as I locate a phone signal, I shall phone my cousin, who will come to collect him.”
“What about you? How will you get home?” Ethan knew he could arrange a taxi for her, or even call on the hotel’s private transport. But he was interested to know how she intended to tackle that problem.
“I will be fine, sir. Please do not concern yourself about me.”
Ah, but I will. It was the least he could do. And the most.
Get the book:
Ethan Savage is the hero of Chameleon. I caught up with him to ask a little about how life is treating him and Fleur these days. He had some interesting snippets to share, not least some of his naughty habits as a boy.
Good afternoon, Ethan, and thank you for finding time to chat to us today.
My pleasure. What is it you’d like to know?
In the story you’re a mining engineer, and this is what brought you to Morocco. Did you ever consider any other career? What made you choose mining?
I think I always knew I’d be an engineer of some sort. I spent hours playing with my Meccano as a boy, and loved taking my toys apart and re-assembling them. Not always with stunning success, I should add. My bedroom was full of spare parts that I had left over. I suppose mining was in my blood. My dad was a coal miner, and my grandfather. But the coal industry is all but dead now in the UK so I had to find a different outlet for my talents and heritage.
Apart from breaking your toys, what was the naughtiest thing you ever did as a child?
*thinks for a few moments* If you ever repeat this, I’ll deny everything. I once nicked the lollipop from our school crossing patrol lady. Rather than lug it home with her when she finished showing us all across the road she used to leave it in the corner of our school yard each night, and pick it up in the morning when she arrived. One evening, I moved it. I hid it behind a wall nearby and the next morning she had to show us across the road with just her hands. People kept asking her where the lollipop was, and she said it had been stolen. There was a lot of comment about the toerags who’d do such a thing, endangering little children. I was so ashamed, but I didn’t own up, Instead, a couple of nights later, I went back to where I hid it and put it back in the school yard for her to find it. The next morning she was back to her former glory, puzzled I imagine, but back in business.
In your own words, tell us what your first impression was when you met Fleur. Did you hit it off right away?
I thought she looked stunning, which is odd perhaps as I didn’t even see her face. She was covered from head to toe in a cloak. All I saw were her eyes, but she fascinated me. There was something alluring about her, sort of aloof, mysterious and exotic, and hot as hell. It wasn’t long before I had her bent over the front of my car, and it was all I could do not to unwrap that cloak from her there and then. But that wouldn’t have been very nice, would it?
Perhaps she wouldn’t have minded too much.
Maybe not. We’ll never know, will we?
What is Fleur’s worst habit?
She’s a workaholic. She never stops, always working, always busy with something. I have to tie her to the bed just to keep her still long enough to … Sorry, am I going into too much detail here?
I’m sure readers want to know.
Well they should read the book then. There’s plenty of detail in there, too much if you ask me.
Are you naturally a private person then, Ethan?
*thinks for a few moments* Yes, I believe probably I am. Certainly no one before has ever got as close to me as Fleur did. I don’t mind that though, she’s very welcome in my life even if she does cause a commotion in my company post room when she sends me naughty presents.
So I suppose that’s another of her bad habits then. What is her best quality?
Well, there’s her seriously sexy little tush – does that count? No? Okay then, I admire her professionalism. All her colleagues respect her, and she makes me proud that she’d look twice at a lout like me.
Are you a lout?
I try not to be, but sometimes I feel like I am when I’m around Fleur. She’s do delicate, so perfect. However careful I am I’m always a little bit scared I’ll break her.
Somehow I doubt you will. One last question, if I may. If a huge inheritance came your way, what would you do with it?
Right, that’s easy. I think I’d convince Totally Five Star to build a hotel on my own private island and move there permanently. My only problem then would be keeping Fleur there too. She’d be forever wanting to rush off and cure someone. I suppose I could keep her tied to the bed… nice thought.
Er, yes. Indeed. Thank you for your time, and your honesty. Especially the bit about the lollipop
You’re welcome, but don’t tell anyone about that. That’s just between us, right? Oh, and thank you for writing our story.
My pleasure. Bye.
About the author:
Until 2010 I was a director of a regeneration company in Leeds, in the UK, before becoming convinced there must be more to life. So I left, and at last I’ve been able to realise my dream of writing erotic romance. I’ve been writing seriously for about two years but I’ve been an avid reader for as long as I can remember, erotic and other genres. I love reading historical and contemporary romances in all pairings – the hotter the better. But now I have a good excuse for my guilty pleasure – research.
In my own writing I draw on settings and anecdotes from my own experience to lend colour, detail and realism to my plots and characters. My stories are often set in the north of England where I live but I draw inspiration from all over. An incident here, a chance remark there, a bizarre event or quirky character, any of these can spark a story idea. But ultimately my tales of love, challenge, resilience and compassion are the conjurings of my own lurid and smutty imagination.
On the rare occasions I’m not writing my time is divided between my role as resident taxi driver for my teenage daughter, and caring for a menagerie of dogs, rabbits, tortoises. And most recently a very grumpy cockatiel. I’m a rural parish councillor, and I’m passionate about evolving rural traditions and values to suit twenty first century lifestyles.
My other titles include the ‘Black Combe’ trilogies, The Dark Side, Sure Mastery, The Hardest Word and A Richness of Swallows, all set in the atmospheric moorland of West Yorkshire or Cumbria and with a strong BDSM theme. The Three Rs, part of Totally Bound’s What’s Her Secret? imprint is a stand-alone novel set in Berwick in the Scottish border. I’ve also written a couple of short stories, Re-Awakening, and a raunchy pirate tale, Right of Salvage, as well as a novella, Carrot and Coriander.
I have a pile of story ideas still to work through, and keep thinking of new ones at the most unlikely moments, so you can expect to see a lot more from me.
I love to hear from readers. You can find me on my blog, and I’m on Facebook, and twitter too. And more recently on Tsu.
Promotional post. Materials provided by the publisher.