The sun beat down on the crowd as they screamed and yelled when the huge speakers came to life. The noise echoed around the crowded arena sending more dust into the air.

"Let's hear you, Rock-fest. Give it up for V-O-L-C-A-N-O...Volcano!" a voice shouted.

Sasha couldn't hear herself think, not that she wanted to . She just wanted to bang her head for the next hour to the music of one of her favourite rock bands.

She was screaming with the rest of them as the band ran on stage and the pounding beat from the drums thumped out. She screamed even louder when the guitars joined in and they started to play one of her favourite tracks.

The woman next to her pointed at the lead singer. "Can you imagine being the lady lucky enough to unlace those leather trousers?" she asked. "I hope she appreciates what she's got."

Sasha nodded and laughed with her. "I'm sure she does."

The music was fast and heavy, just like she liked it. The rhythm of the drums and base dominated her mind as she lost herself in it.

The pace slowed as the lead singer, Angus 'Rob' Roberts, sang one of the band's hit ballads. 'Broken Angel' had taken them to the top of the charts five years earlier. It was a song that spoke straight to her heart; about a man healing a woman after a broken relationship. Making her strong again, then hoping she'd choose him. The quiet didn't last for long though. It was just enough time for the crowd to catch their breath before they launched into the final part of the set.

Sasha watched as the Mosh pit got rougher and rougher. A part of her wished she could be in the centre of it like she normally was, but a fluttering from her slightly swollen belly reminded her why she wasn't down the front of the crowd this year.

All too soon it was over and Sasha's throat was hoarse from her shouting. She desperately needed a drink. The food-stalls seemed quieter than they had been, so she grabbed a bottle of water and an ice-cream before heading around the market. She loved the shopping almost as much as the music.

An hour later and three hundred and fifty pounds poorer, she made her way back to the VIP camping ground entrance to dump all the bags she was carrying. Security was normally almost unnoticeable when going back into that area, with its plush tents and the bars that the bands used; but with tickets starting at £250 for a weekend's camping, they liked to check that you were entitled to be there before waving you through.

Sasha could hear the thump, thump, thump, of the base notes from one of the smaller stages as she waited her turn, not really paying any attention to what was going on around her. She showed her wristband without even really thinking about it. The flashing of the bright red fabric hand become second nature to her, as she moved swiftly passed the guard before hurrying to put all her purchases into the back of her tent.

Sasha had to smile as she passed by the picnic tables that were outside the bar, where fans of Volcano were lined up, trying not to intrude as the band members relaxed. As if any band would go somewhere so public without knowing they'd be asked for autographs.

“Ms. Roberts?” a voice asked her as she headed back towards the hypnotic call of the music. “It's nearly time. Christine Blake has arrived and is waiting for you.”

Sasha thought her face might split in half. Christine Blake, one half of the writing team that had brought ' The Dog Soldiers' stories to the world. A series of books, and now movies, about a group of shape-shifting warriors, who fought demons with the help of a couple of priestess/shaman types. She wanted to ask the woman whether Elk was ever going to be polite to the younger priestess and if she'd ever get it together with Running Bear. Sasha giggled to herself as she followed the assistant.

A squeal and a pair of arms were wrapped around her shoulders. “Man, you are looking good, Girlfriend,” Christine told her. “Now, before we do anything else, I demand to see the scan. Come on and show me. I know you have it on you somewhere.”

Sasha laughed and opened up the small purse she wore attached to her wrist. Inside was the scan of her baby.

“Well, am I going to be a Godmother or Godfather this time round?” Christine asked with a laugh. It had been a joke between them for years.

“We don't know. Rob wanted to wait and so did I. And Tina can't wait to be a big sister.” Sasha's face took on the dreamy look it always did when she thought about her husband of five years. “So, how was the flight?”

“Long, and I thought you told me it always rains at these festivals? I've packed masses of sweaters and thick pants and I'm boiling.” Christine complained, good-naturedly.

“Sounds like an excuse to go shopping to me, and sorry about the weather report, but I've brought my wellies as well.”

The two women linked arms and laughed as they made their way through the crowds.

Rock-fest was one of the biggest Heavy Metal festivals in Britain. Thousands of bikers, angels and Goths descended on a farm in the middle of the country for a weekend of music, dawn to dusk and beyond. Considering the reputation bikers normally had, there was little trouble and the atmosphere was light-hearted and joyful.

A man bumped into the two women, catching hold of Sasha to prevent her from falling, before apologising and moving away. Sasha laughed again as Christine watched the leather and denim clad man walk away.

“Admiring the view?” she asked one of her oldest and truest friends.

“Yep,” was the only answer she got for a few minutes. “Oh, hush you!” Christine added when she saw the look on Sasha's face. “I'm not married and knocked up with my second child. I'm footloose and fancy free and here to enjoy myself.

Sasha just shook her head as the laughter overwhelmed her. “Come on, we've got shopping to do.”

The pair of them didn't bother to return to their tents with their heavy bags. By the time they had raided the clothes stores, the next band had taken to the main stage and Christine desperately wanted to see Wolf-Run.

Sasha and Christine screamed and shouted their way through all the songs, watching the lead singer strut shirtless across the stage. The set had only just finished when Sasha checked her watch.

“We're going to be late,” she exclaimed, dragging Christine towards the gate that led back to the relative quiet of the VIP area. Still giggling, they made their way to where one of the Rock-fest staff helpers waited for them.

“Sorry,” Christine apologised. “We got caught up.”

“No problem, I'll have one of the lads drop off the bags and take you through to the Club tent. There are quite a few people waiting to meet you both.”

Ria hadn't been joking. The place was full of fans and reporters by the time they made their way to the chairs that had been set up on the stage. Sasha stopped dead when she saw who was on security duty. It was her ex-husband, Antony Greane. With a deep breath, she reached for Christine's hand and nodded towards where the man was standing.

Christine squeezed her fingers before the two women waved and smiled at the crowd as the applause started up. They sat down and looked around, hoping that it really wasn't the idiot who had tried to ruin Alexandria's life; unfortunately it was.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Christine hissed.

“Knowing him, trying to pick up barely legal girls. He always thought rock-chicks were easy.”

“You OK?” she asked, not letting go of Sasha's hand.

Sasha nodded, “He can't touch me again. Rob would kill him if he tried anything.”

The reporter from Rock-fest grinned and held up a sheaf of notes, ready to start the Q&A session.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” he started, causing laughter all round. “I'm Mick from Rock-Fest radio and today, we are lucky enough to have not only Christine Blake, but Alexandria Roberts, who, together, make up Maone Hohtae the enigmatic authors of the 'Dog Soldiers' series of books. Thanks for coming. Are you having a good time?”

“A brilliant time,” Sasha answered. “I love rock music, in fact, I think I have the whole of the back catalogue for many of the bands you have playing this weekend, including Volcano and Viking Warrior.”

“Getting Sasha to turn down the music is a bigger miracle than us getting a publishing contract,” Christine joked. “I think she's blown more sets of speakers than anyone else I know.”

“True, all true,” Sasha grinned.

“Would you like to tell everyone how it all started? And where Dog Soldiers came fro?”

“Tina and I met on the internet. We belonged to the same writing site. She worked nights in Canada, and I was up early in the morning in the UK. And we chatted. At first, it was the email equivalent of coffee at work, then I went through a shitty marriage break up.” Sasha looked off into space for a moment, trying to get her thoughts together.

She had met Antony Greane just after her twentieth birthday. He had seemed charming and loving at first. Her beloved grandfather had died, leaving her a nest egg, but according to the terms of the will, she couldn't touch it until she hit twenty-five or married. Antony had persuaded her to get married then had spent his way through her savings, leaving her broke and alone when he found a richer target.

“And I broke my leg falling off my horse.” Christine picked up on the tale to cover for her friend. “Then we started writing together. Mostly just for the site at first, but we enjoyed it so much.”

“Then there was a competition, which we entered. We found out we'd won on the day my divorce became final. That was a good day.”

She looked at the man who had tried to break her and smirked. Let him try anything here.

Laughter filled the tent. “We stayed up all night celebrating,” Christine added. “And we couldn't believe how quickly everything happened after that. The book hit the shops within a year, number two was already ready for editing and we were working on number three. Then Hollywood called, and we didn't refuse the invitation.”

The reporter started speaking again. “You kept control of the characters,” he commented.

Sasha nodded. “Oh yes, if anyone if going to play with Running Bear it's going to be us.”

Laughter rang out amongst the audience again. “People love the characters, and there are other books out there that have been spoiled for me by bad films. We were determined that when Dog Soldiers hit the screen, it was going to be Dog Soldiers and not something that resembled it rather badly.” Christine took a sip of her water and let her eyes wonder around the audience. She smirked softly to herself when she noticed that some of the members of Volcano had sneaked into the back of the tent to listen to them. That would please Sasha.

“Having said that, I love some of the ideas people have come up with on the fan fiction sites. And in the next book we have, with the permission of the original authors, incorporated a couple of them. The writers will get credits for their work.” Sasha's face broke into a beaming smile. She had seen who was standing at the back of the audience.

There were gasps of surprise then a round of applause at the idea, which caused Sasha to blush a little.

A young woman in the front row put up a hand. “How do you manage the practicalities of the writing?” she asked shyly.

“Late nights,” Sasha said. “Lots of late nights. My husband tends to work late anyway, and when he's out, I write. Then I email what I've written to Chris, she reads it, and writes the next bit. On a good day, we can get five thousand words done before my head hits the keyboard and I have to go to bed.”

“We call it tennis and I enjoy it far more than any other kind of exercise,” Christine interjected.

There was a snort from one of the security guys. His face half hidden in the shadows. Sasha shot a look in his direction. She knew that sound. It was her ex-husband. It made her wonder again why on earth was Antony doing here? He hated rock music. It must be for the women He never could keep it in his pants. Not like Rob, who stayed faithful despite all the temptations he had.

“Any other questions?”

Hands went up all over, and Mick laughed. “I think we have more questioners here than we have for any of the bands,” he said as he pointed to a very young girl in the back. “You in the Viking Warrior Tee-shirt.”

“Hi,” the girl said shyly. “I love your books, and I'm really looking forward to the next film.”

“Thank you and hi as well,” Sasha and Christine shot her a smile.

“You said you were married? I was wondering how your husband deals with your fame? And what does he do for a living?”

“I'm single and loving it,” Christine grinned. “But Sasha... Do you want to answer that?”

“I think Rob would be better answering that one, if he wants to?” Sasha's expression was filled with love for the long haired rocker who was standing at the back of the crowd. He was still wearing the leather pants he had on stage. His waist length hair caught back in a leather thong.

“I love that my wife has a job she enjoys so much. And according to Sasha, I sing a little, and make a mess of her study for a living,” he teased.

There were gasps of astonishment as the audience realised who had spoken. 'Rob' Roberts, lead singer of Volcano.

It wasn't a secret, but most people weren't aware of the connection between the world famous singer and the writer.

“How did you meet?” the girl gasped out.

“We went to see the graphics artist, who was designing the jacket for our second story. 'Through the Caves of the Dead' and Rob was there checking up on the new album cover.”

“And the rest, as they, say is history,” Christine added. “Mind you, it took him a whole month to ask her to marry him.”

She smiled indulgently as Rob made his way through the crowd to Sasha's side. He lifted her hand to his lips in a courtly gesture before sitting in the chair that Mick had vacated for him. He kept his fingers intertwined with Sasha's during the rest of the interview.

The forty-five minutes was up far too quickly for the fans who had turned up to meet the two authors. Christine and Sasha gave each other a pointed look and a slight nod.

“If anyone wants autographs, I need to grab something to eat, but I'm craving noodles...so, if it can be arranged, we can come back later?” Christine looked at the representatives from Rock-Fest; who nodded.

“We've got a space in the signing tent in about an hour,” Ria suggested.

As they made their way out of the tent, Rob put a possessive hand in the centre of her back.

“You should be resting, Sweetheart,” he whispered as he kissed the side of her neck.

Sasha was just about to answer him when Antony Greane stepped in front of her.

Just how much are you paying him to pretend to be with you, Sandra?” he spat out at his ex-wife.

Sasha looked the man up and down. The years had not been kind to her ex. “Unlike you, Antony, Rob chooses to be with me. He isn't just interested in emptying my bank account and please don't use that diminutive. I have never liked it.”

“I could try spending your money,” Rob laughed. “Then we could start on mine. What would you like? A new house? No, We've just bought a castle. A new coat? Diamonds? No, sorry you prefer sapphires. How about a horse? A pure bred Fresian?”

Antony scoffed again. “As if any man would waste money on you. Look at you, you've got even fatter since I left you.”

Rob growled, and moved in closer, an alpha male protecting his mate, his hand went over her abdomen in a territorial manner. He adored Sasha, and wasn't going to let this idiot hurt her, physically or emotionally.

“You really are an idiot, Antony. I'm not fat, I'm pregnant.Now, if you will excuse me, I have to get something to eat.”

Antony grabbed her arm. “He won't stay with you, you know. You're not skinny enough for the likes of him.”

Rob burst out laughing. “You really are as big an idiot as Sasha said. Real men want a real woman in their bed, not children. I want someone I can hold without fearing that I'm going to break her, now get your hand off my wife before you lose it permanently.”

And with that, he turned his back on the man that had caused his beloved Alexandria so much misery and walked into the sunshine with the woman whom he truly loved leaving the man who had tried to break her so many years ago watching them vanish into the crowd.