HarperImpulse an imprint of
HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
77â85 Fulham Palace Road
Hammersmith, London W6 8JB
www.harpercollins.co.uk
First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2014
Copyright © Angela Campbell 2014
Cover images © Shutterstock.com
Angela Campbell asserts the moral right
to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is
available from the British Library
This novel is entirely a work of fiction.
The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are
the work of the authorâs imagination. Any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is
entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International
and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.
By payment of the required fees, you have been granted
the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access
and read the text of this e-book on screen.
No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted,
downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or
stored in or introduced into any information storage and
retrieval system, in any form or by any means,
whether electronic or mechanical, now known or
hereinafter invented, without the express
written permission of HarperCollins.
Ebook Edition © September 2014
ISBN: 9780007543076
Version 2014-09-08
Digital eFirst: Automatically produced by Atomik ePublisher from Easypress.
This book is dedicated to my wonderful critique partners, Pamela Hearon, Abby Niles, and Cynthia DâAlba. Without their encouragement and feedback, I would have never made deadline or spotted the weak points in my writing. Ladies, I love you.
And to my incredible editor Charlotte Ledger and the entire team at Harper Impulse, who helped me bring this series to the world, I give many, many thanks and chocolate kisses because, hey, chocolate kisses!
To all of my friends and family who put up with me while writing and encouraged me in the process, you guys rock! Cindy H., Cindy S., Christy, Tammatha and all my furry friends, too. Donât know what Iâd do without your support.
Also, I dedicate this story to Felicia Day, simply for being an excellent geek ambassador for women. I doubt Spider could have existed without you first paving the way.
Finally, to my loyal readers â this one is for you. I hope you enjoy it!
Oh yeah. She was gonna kill that mutt when she got her hands on him. And the cat too â just because.
Emma âSpiderâ Fisher rattled the locked doorknob one more time and glared at the animals watching her from the other side of the front window. Costello, the dog, panted happily and gave her a tongue-lolling, open-mouthed grin. Abbott, the cat, stood in the bay-window beside him, watching her with disinterested, narrowed eyes, as if she were the stupidest human heâd ever met â a distinct possibility.
âUgh!â She rattled the front doorknob again and slapped the doorframe. Yeah, as if that would make it open.
It was the morning after her first night of house-sitting for Zach and Hannah, and sheâd already locked herself out. Correction: one of the dogs had escaped the fence, sheâd given chase in her jammies, and when sheâd ran back to call for help after not being able to catch Charlie, Costello had bumped shut the door sheâd left open. Locking her out. Without a key. Without a phone. Without a hope of not being killed by her boss when he returned from his honeymoon.
His beloved blind dog had disappeared after sheâd chased him into some trees on the other side of the street. No telling where Charlie was now. God forbid, he could be lying dead on the highway. Might have fallen down a well somewhere. Joined a gang. Who knew?
In fact, who knew a blind dog could run so darn fast to begin with? Sheâd bet that dog had some cheetah in his genes.
Heaving a half-laugh, half-sob, she turned and slid down the door until her bottom met the cold concrete of the front doorstep. A quick scan of the other houses and manicured lawns lining the quiet subdivision was no comfort. Well, maybe it was. No one seemed to peek out of curtains to witness her humiliating predicament, although sheâd have to start pounding on doors soon to see if someone would let her use their phone.
Who would she call? One of the so-hot-they-could-melt-her-panties-off guys she worked with? She groaned.
This could not be happening to her.
A flash of brown movement to her left caught Spiderâs attention and sent her heart thumping wildly against her ribcage again.
Charlie was sniffing the grass and following an invisible trail beside the sidewalk in front of the house. Near the freaking road! Uttering a squeak, Spider sprang to her bare feet and hurried down the driveway, muttering âowwwâ and âouchâ every time she stepped on a rock or something sharp in the grass.