The phone vibrated on the bedside table before it let out a loud and urgent blaring horn sound that made Abby sit up with a fright. It took her a moment to understand what the awful noise was and when she found the source of it she was very nearly tempted to throw it across the room to make it shut up. The name and face flashing on the display staid her hand and with a frustrated huff, she swiped the screen to answer it.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” she growled into the phone.

“Why yes,” the pleasant voice said on the other end, “It’s after nine.”

“Juliet,” Abby whined, lying back on her pillow and scrunching her eyes closed, “How many times have I told you, don’t call me before noon because I will be asleep.”

“How can you get any work done when you sleep all day?”

“Because I work at night,” Abby replied testily, “Which you know and which I’ve told you time and again and which you continue to ignore. I don’t know why I even keep you around.”

“Because you love me and because I’m your favourite editor and because I’m in the lobby downstairs and I’m offering to take you out to breakfast.”

Abby groaned. The last thing she wanted was to go out for breakfast when she’d only very recently crawled into bed.

“Come on,” Juliet encouraged, “We need to talk and I know you will be a pain in the arse until you get coffee and food in you.”

“Fine,” Abby said, throwing back the covers, “But if you ever do this to me again, you’re fired.”

The tinkling sound of Juliet’s laugh was the last thing Abby heard before she disconnected the call.

Not bothering to shower, Abby pulled on the first dress her hand touched in her closet and grabbed her cardigan off the kitchen chair as she walked passed. She slipped her feet into her well-worn clogs and grabbed her handbag. As she left the apartment she realised she hadn’t done her hair or brushed her teeth. Pausing on the top stair she hurriedly tied her hair up in a messy bun with an elastic she found in her bag and then rooted around until she found a breath mint. It would serve Juliet right for interrupting her sleep.

She crushed the mint in her mouth as she walked down the rest of the stairs and pushed the elevator call button. When the doors opened it was to reveal Juliet, dressed to kill in a tightly fitted suit that was supposed to look businesslike but came across more vamp, especially with the amount of leg and cleavage she was showing. She towered over Abby in her six inch platform stilettos and not a single platinum blonde lock was out of place. She smiled revealing perfectly straight white teeth behind crimson lips and violet eyes that sparkled. If she wasn’t Abby’s closest friend and the best editor Abby’d ever worked with, she’d be very tempted to hate her for her effortless beauty and easy grace.

“Darling,” Juliet said, opening her arms and air kissing both of Abby’s cheeks.

“Don’t darling me,” Abby grumped, “I’m still half asleep and hoping this is just a dream.”

Juliet hooked her arm through Abby’s and guided her into the elevator.

“Don’t brood,” she said, “I have good news for you.”

“It’s too early in the morning for good news.”

Juliet’s tinkling laugh filled the elevator as it descended to the lobby. “You are hilarious, darling.”

Abby took a sidelong glance at her friend. Two darlings in the space of an elevator ride, something was up.

The doors opened and Juliet pulled Abby out of the elevator, across the lobby and into the blinding sunlight. “My car is just here,” she said as she continued to pull Abby along in her wake.

A car door was opened and Abby was pushed into a seat, the leather plush and the ‘new car smell’ prevalent.

Abby waited until Juliet got in the driver’s side and then spoke, “New car?”

“Isn’t it divine,” she said as she pulled out into traffic with barely a glance over her shoulder.

“I think I’m paying you too much,” Abby said and Juliet just laughed again.

“You’re not my only client sweetie although you are my most temperamental.”

Abby harrumphed grumpily and crossed her arms, turning to look out the window at the passing buildings. Juliet reached across the console and patted Abby’s leg, “And my favourite,” she said.

“Okay,” Abby said turning back to look at her friend, “What’s going on?”

“All will be revealed,” she said as she took a quick turn and parked in a loading zone outside, what looked like, a tin shed.

Abby looked up at the drab, grey, nondescript building. “Have you brought me here to do away with me then?” she asked and Juliet laughed merrily again which was really starting to get on Abby’s nerves. The woman was way too happy for the arse crack of dawn or what felt like it anyway.

“Come on,” she said as she slid gracefully out of the low-slung spots car.

Abby struggled to get out and slammed the door with frustration before following Juliet up the three stairs and in through the grey door with a stylised tree painted on it. What met her on the other side was like some sort of fantasy. The smell of freshly roasted coffee filled the air accented with the delicate scent of frying bacon. Abby closed her eyes and took a deep breath and just inhaling the atomised scents of her two favourite food groups put her in a better mood. She fairly floated after Juliet who found them a table and smiled as she sat across from the too chipper, too bright woman.

A waitress brought them water and glasses before taking their coffee orders, promising to be back for the breakfast order soon. Abby didn’t need to look at the menu to know what she wanted. She wanted bacon, and lots of it, and eggs and toast and tomato and mushrooms and bacon.

Juliet made small talk while they waited for their coffee and then after Abby had taken her first, fortifying and decadent sip, she narrowed her gaze at the other woman and demanded an answer to her earlier question.

“So what is all this about?” Abby said without any preliminaries.

“I’m here to offer you a new contract.”

“What’s wrong with my old contract?”

“It’s coming up for renewal—” Abby sat back in her seat, stunned. Had it really been five years since she’d sold her first A.A. Abernathy novel? “—And the boys upstairs are eager for you to re-sign…”

“But? I hear a but at the end of that sentence.”

Juliet sighed and stirred her latte. “But, they want a new series with a new cast. They want something edgier, darker and they want a commitment to five books.”

“What about the book I’m working on now?”

Juliet looked at her with what looked like sympathy in her eyes. “You haven’t submitted any pages to me in months, Abby, and you’ve missed three deadlines—”

“I know but—”

Juliet raised a finger to silence her, “No excuses. I know you and I know that the author who has written ten books in the last five years doesn’t miss deadlines. We are willing to let you drop that book for now, come back to it later if you want to, but the boys upstairs want something new and fresh.”

Abby thought about all the research she had been doing; dragging garbage bags full of dismembered limbs down stairs and bodies rolled up in Persian carpets, was it all for nothing?

Juliet reached across the table and laid her hand over Abby’s. “Don’t get me wrong, I know that every A.A. Abernathy novel you send me is brilliant, but maybe you do need to try something different. The powers that be are even agreeable to you using a new pen name.”

Abby shook her head. “No. Abernathy has a solid fan base, it would be like starting all over again.” She sighed and sipped her flatwhite thoughtfully. “I have had this one idea that has been playing about in my mind,” she said.

Juliet leaned forward eagerly, “Yes?”

Abby flicked her eyes up to her editor, “It’s different and darker, for sure.”

Juliet leaned back and spread her hands out in front of her, “Lay it out for me.”

“The main POV character is a serial killer,” Abby said, “An unapologetic serial killer who is also a non-dominate personality of a guy who, unbeknownst to him, has multi-personality disorder.”

“So the guy’s a serial killer and he doesn’t know it?”

Abby nodded, warming to her subject, “Not only that, but he is actively working to catch serial killers, only he doesn’t know that the most notorious of them all is himself.”

Juliet chewed on the corner of her lip, “Okay…I’m intrigued. Tell me more.”

Abby smiled for the first time that morning and waited for the waitress to put her steaming plate of breakfast before her. She picked up her knife and fork and dug in, explaining the premise to Juliet as she ate.

“He doesn’t just kill anyone,” she said, “He only kills people who, in his mind, deserve it.”

“A vigilante, an anti-hero.”

“Yes and no,” Abby went on, “He knows he has a compulsion to kill, but he refuses to let the compulsion control him. His way of controlling it is to choose his victims and he chooses the scum of society. He doesn’t do it to be some sort of avenging hero and he abhors the thought that people might admire him for what he does. He knows what he does is wrong, but he also knows that if he doesn’t control the compulsion and direct it towards people that deserve to die, then it would only be much worse and he may end up hurting innocents. Oh, and he enjoys it. He likes killing, so he really doesn’t want to give it up.”

“And all the while, his host is trying to catch him?” Juliet asked.

Abby nodded, “Exactly.”

“I like it,” she said with a sharp nod. It was only then that Abby realised Juliet hadn’t ordered any breakfast.

“You’re not eating?”

“I’ve already eaten,” she said.

Abby shrugged and continued to demolish the plate of food in front of her.

“So who is this character? What does he look like?” Juliet asked.

An image of Mason popped into Abby’s head and it was like a lightning bolt. Mason was the perfect blend of broody, dark and mysterious. There was a dangerous aura about him, like a prowling panther beneath his skin, a barely restrained violence that drew Abby in. She didn’t think he would hurt her, but there was something about him that screamed the need for justice to be done. Oh, yes, Mason was exactly the guy she had in mind for her character. Hyde, the name popped into her head and she smiled.

“His name is Hyde,” she said, “And he is all things cool, calm and collected. The guy is a professional and he takes his work seriously. He’s tall and dark with these amazing, piercing blue eyes. If you met him in a bar you would be drawn to him, there is something dangerous and exciting about him that you would want to get close to, but not too close. This is not the guy who whispers sweet nothings in your ear, this is a guy who dominates whatever space he’s in and you know he would dominate you. This is not the guy you bring home to your mother, this is a guy you have a torrid affair with and then walk away knowing that you were lucky to survive it.”

Why was she now thinking of DomMPF?

Juliet dropped Abby back at her apartment building a little after ten and Abby went straight back to bed to try and reclaim the sleep that Juliet had so rudely interrupted. She slept solid for two hours and as she was coming out of her deep sleep, the distinct sound of female laughter snaked it’s way into her dream. Her eyes popped open and she struggled to find purchase in reality until she heard the sound again. Definitely female laughter and definitely coming from Mason’s apartment.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes, refusing to acknowledge the stab of jealousy that went through her at hearing the sound yet again. She had no idea that Mason was such a sparkling conversationalist, he’d barely said two words to her and they had been gruff and not at all inspiring enough to make her laugh.

She swung her legs out of bed and stomped to the kitchen where she put the kettle on. She opened cupboards, letting them slam closed as she searched for coffee or tea or anything really and only then did she realise that today was shopping day and she’d forgotten to put her order in last night. Ugh! She hated the grocery store, which was why she swapped to online shopping and had her groceries delivered, except she’d forgotten and now she had no food and no coffee and that irritating tinkling female laughter coming from next door.

She stomped out of the kitchen and into the bathroom where she had a shower, refusing to think what Mason might be doing next door. She washed her hair, shaved her legs and underarms and even tidied up her bikini line, not that anyone was going to see it. She got out and dried off before brushing her teeth and twisting her hair up into a quick french roll and securing it with a large clip. She pulled on a pair of black leggings and a bulky sweater realising that it was also laundry day, and then slipped on her clogs, grabbed her bag and headed out the door. She was so preoccupied with her grumpiness and being woken up by that irritating female laughter that she ran smack bang into a solid wall of man as she turned from locking her door.

She looked up, blinking, to see Mason’s blue eyes gazing down at her, an odd expression behind their depths.

“Oh,” she breathed, wanting nothing more to snuggle in and bury her nose against the crook of his neck and breathe in the citrusy scent of his aftershave.

“Abby,” he said, his voice sounding strangely husky.

“Oh look Brooks,” a very feminine voice said, “It’s Abby.”

Abby stepped away from Mason quickly to take in the scene. Behind Mason stood a giant of a man and a tiny woman holding a child’s hand.

“Well, aren’t you going to introduce us?” the man rumbled in his deep, baritone voice.

Mason sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose before angling his body so that they formed an odd sort of semi-circle. “Brooks, Harper, this is Abby, my neighbour. Abby, these are my friends Brooks, Harper and the little one is Piper.”

Brooks held out a bear paw of a hand and enveloped Abby’s much smaller one. “Abby is it?”

Abby nodded, “Abby Sutherland,” she said with a tight smile.

He released her hand and then she was enveloped in a hug. “I’m so glad to meet you,” Harper gushed as she squeezed Abby.

Abby shot a terrified look at Mason and he just rolled his eyes. “Harper, leave her alone, you’re scaring her.” He shook his head as Harper released her from the hug. “She’s going to think all my friends are mental.”

Harper laughed, the same laugh that had woken Abby and her moodiness melted away, she even smiled. “It’s nice to meet you too,” she said and then squatted down to shake Piper’s hand, “And you too.”

Piper grinned at her. “I went to a real castle,” Piper said, “And saw a real princess get married.”

Brooks smiled affectionately at what could only be his daughter, their aquamarine coloured eyes identical. “She was a Queen, munchkin,” he said before looking at Abby, “Have you ever heard of a small country named Merveille?”

Abby grinned, “Actually, I have. You were at the Royal wedding?”

He nodded, “Just got back a week ago and Piper can’t stop talking about it.”

“Well, of course,” Abby said, “I mean a real castle and a real princess? It’s every girl’s dream, right?”

Brooks chuckled and ruffled his daughter’s hair.

“What are you doing right now,” Harper asked Abby, her smile bright.

“Ah…”

“Harper,” Mason said with a warning tone, “Abby is obviously on her way out.”

“Just to do groceries,” she said.

Harper clapped her hands, “Perfect,” she said, “Why don’t you come with us? We’re meeting the rest of the gang for lunch. You can do your groceries later.”

“Um…”

Mason looked at her with sympathy, “You don’t have to,” he murmured.

“Come on,” Brooks said, shouldering Mason, “It’s just lunch.”

“It’s not the lunch I’m opposed to, but the company. Do you really want to subject Abby to the rest of our friends?”

Harper laughed, “Bailey and I’ll protect her from Declan and Jonathon.”

Abby surprised herself by saying, “Okay, sure.”

Harper grinned triumphantly. “Excellent. You won’t mind driving her will you Mason? We would, but Piper’s car seat takes up so much space…”

Mason exhaled a long suffering sigh, “Of course not,” he said, placing a hand on the small of Abby’s back and opening his other hand out to indicate they should be going.

Abby allowed herself to be swept along, not quite sure as to what exactly she had gotten herself into. Mason seemed unhappy with her presence, his jaw hard and the chords of his neck sticking out as he ground his teeth.

“I don’t have to come,” she said softly as they walked down the stairs behind his friends, “I don’t want to intrude.”

He stopped and looked down at her, his jaw softening and the corner of his mouth ticking up in a half smile. “You’re not intruding,” he replied in a low enough voice so that only she could hear, “But I have to warn you that my friends can be…”

“Nosy? Loud? Obnoxious?”

He beamed a smile at her and she almost fainted with the power of it. “All of the above,” he said and then pressed his hand more firmly into her back, urging her to start moving again, “So we should hurry because if we’re late they will make up all sorts of reasons why we weren’t on time and none of them will be based in reality.”

She laughed and let him propel her towards the lift.