Not the forgiving kind

As a writer, you shut the door of your study and you immediately turn into that kid in The Sixth Sense with his "I see dead people" schtick. Except it's not the dead that's the problem. It's the imagined, who it turns out are as demanding and loud as anyone else, with all their "Make me suffer. Make me funny. Make me live" carry-on. And you have to go there, because when you do - make them leap off bridges and fall in love with unobtainable women - the reader has no choice but to keep turning the pages. Which, for you and your imaginary pals, is what it's all about.

I'm obsessed with my latest hero. His name is Michael North, and he's about to get his latest outing in Sleep When You're Dead. (It's the third in my action thriller series, following Killing State and Curse the Day.) North is a government agent and ex-assassin. He's 27 years old, ruthless, loyal, brave, and in the eyes of his MI5 handlers, disposable.