My readers often ask me whether my series fictional hero, Milan Jacovich, is really a hardly-disguised version of myself. Well, he’s Slovenian, and I’m not. He’s 6’3″, 230 pounds, a cigarette smoker and a drinker of Stroh’s, balding, an ex-football player at Kent State, an ex-MP in Vietnam, and he has a hell of a time getting close to the beautiful women he always seems to be meeting. None of this applies to me, and I’m not a tough guy, either. But he and I share ethics and values; obviously THAT comes from inside my head. So there are moments in all my books that I wish I were Milan Jacovich. I’ll bet almost every fiction writer, mysteries or otherwise, has a ball jotting down their own fantasies and make them come out exactly the way we want them to, I guess that’s why I’ve written so many books, most about Milan but some about Los Angeles detective Saxon. (Don’t ask me what his first name is, because I never knew,) That’s why I can’t wait to wake up every morning, sit down at my computer, and just DO IT!
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