Lisa Kinglet is a bestselling, famous author. At only 23, she's well known for her sarcastic characters, and ability to write almost any genre effortlessly. Then one day she gets a phone call in her sprawling house in Seattle. It's her lawyer, and he wants to talk with her. There's been a murder, and it's been done in the style of her most famous serial murderer, the Cheshire.

Enter Levi Taylor. He's a well known FBI investigator and male model. As bodies keep piling up, panic ensues as it becomes obvious that the man or woman who committed the crime is going after Lisa herself. Levi and Lisa are to work together, if they want to survive. But Lisa is determined to find whoever did this, before more innocent lives are lost.

She knows the Cheshire best... after all, she made him, right?

The struggle between the creator and the masterpiece continues.

We're all mad here...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The telephone rang as I was stabbing my opponent in the stomach with a dagger.

I sighed, pulling earbuds out of my ears and throwing my fake weapon to the ground.

"Frizzle-fraz." I mumbled, my eyes running over the empty space in front of me. My notepad and pencil was strewn across the floor next to me, and my living room was covered in little labeled pieces of tape.

I stomped over to the telephone, grumbling the whole way.

"What?" I snapped into the receiver.

"Ms. Kinglet?"

"No, it's the effing butler."

There was silence at the other end.

"I'm kidding." I said, after a few seconds of awkward silence. "It's called sarcasm."

"I see." The man at the other side cleared his throat. "I am not used to jokes, it seems."

"Clearly."

"I hope I didn't interrupt anything?"

I snorted. "Oh, only my genius brain which could be blocking out a scene for my next bestseller book. It's not like I actually took the whole morning to prepare the living room."

He paused. "Should I assume this is sarcasm again?"

"Yes."

"I see."

"How old are you?"

"Uh... thirty."

I grinned. "I knew it."

"Excuse me?"
"You talk like a rich young man with a stick up your butt."

He coughed. "I-- What?"

"Never mind."

"I... uh."

"Who are you?" I asked, feeling suspicious.

"I'm your lawyer, Ms. Kinglet."

I squinted at the wall. "I have a lawyer?"

"Yes."

"Oh." That explains the stick up the butt.

"Your agent contacted me."

I frowned. "Did she? Why?"

"There's been an... incident."

"Sounds unfortunate." My voice was dry. "Any chance you're actually going to tell me what this incident was that was so important that you tore me away from my book?"

"Ah... Yes. It's a murder." He cleared his throat again. "Police are at the scene now, but it seems it is... a copycat killing."

"I always thought those were fascinating. Far more interesting than the average Joe murder." I commented, voice heavy with sarcasm.

There was silence again. "Ms. Kinglet, do me a favor and don't tell the police that."

"What? The police?"

"The killing... It was a copycat of your famous serial killer character, the Cheshire. You're the prime suspect."

Now it was my time to be silent for a moment. "Well, fudge brownies."

A/N:

So... yeah. If you liked the chapter, vote and comment!

Also, if you are reading my other book, Love Me Fiercely, erm... don't expect an update. Heh heh... sorry! My teachers chose THIS weekend out of all weekends  EVER IN THE WORLD to load us with tons of homework. LIKE SERIOUSLY? ANY OTHER WEEKEND AND I WOULD HAVE BEEN FINE! BUT NOOOO, they chose the ONE WEEKEND I was super busy. Gah. I hate school.

(But to you impressionable children, if there are any of you reading, school is great. Go to school. Yay.)

~UI

PS: Did you know that the Oxford comma isn't even used at Oxford?

Like, WHAT EVEN...?!?! My mind is blown!