Publisher Eternal Press

Publisher Eternal Press
Love and the Paranormal

Monday, December 24, 2012

@RoseDru63: November Winner for BoM PNR at Goodreads New Review plz Read new review

Monday, December 10, 2012

Today we have a real treat with us best selling novelist Rebecca Minto so sit back have a cup of hot chocolate or cup of coffee and let's chill.
Rebecca Minto - author of A Kiss To Remember and A Touch To Remember

Tell us about your books.

My first novel, A Kiss To Remember, came about from a venture in sleeplessness and exhaustion. I wrote this several years ago when my son was an infant, and thus I was managing an hour here and an hour there between his frequent feedings. One night I had this vivid dream where I was following this pretty, young lady throughout this large house, and ending with her screams. It fascinated me, of course, because I had no idea why she screamed, so I began to write it down, and the next thing I knew I was writing a full story. The characters just came to life.

While I was writing and editing this first novel, I became fascinated with Annalise, one of the secondary characters. I knew I would have to explore her, and so I did, and the result is A Touch To Remember. In the end, she surprised even me.

Both of these books are set in Regency England. Why?

I'm not an author that is refined to only one era or subject matter. My first book was born of a dream, and the era was the Regency era. Since A Touch To Remember was born of that first book, it, too, is set in the Regency. It is a fascinating time on history to study. It was both the best and worst of times, at least in my opinion. You have the grandiose lifestyles of the titled and wealthy right beside the most horrid conditions for the poor and common-born man. You have a bit more freedom for your heroines in this era, but not quite as much as a contemporary story would have. You also have the threat and aftermath of war with Napoleon and all the politics and spies that go along with such days. It is a fun period to write in, but I also like fantasy and Medieval settings when I write.

Do you have a set formula for writing a book, or do you just fly by the seat of your pants?

The way I write is different for each story. I don't like to restrict myself when it comes to a storyline, but I do like to have a loose roadmap, so to speak. When I was writing A Touch To Remember, it was like I was caught in a fever. I forgot the world around me. I often forgot to eat or sleep, sometimes writing as much as 18-20 hours a day, until it was finished. A Kiss To Remember was different. Each word was carefully measured, each scene carefully concocted. The story I am working on now is more about detail right now, like the scent in the air before a blizzard hits, the texture and feel of a woolen plaid as it rubs against the neck, etc. It is slow going, but I hope to be happy with the end result.

Who inspired you the most to become an author?

Julie Garwood, hands down. For years she has been one of my favorite writers. At one time I could almost quote you any of her books, word-for-word verbatim. When I was about 19 I thought to myself that I wanted to be a Julie Garwood when I grow up. She has the ability to completely take you away from your world. In her older books I both laughed and wept out loud whenever I was reading one of her stories, and at the end I always felt so encouraged and hopeful. I wanted to make people feel that, too, to create a yarn that would have someone sad and discouraged daring to dream once more. To me, that is true magic. Over the years, other authors have inspired me, such as Nora Roberts and Christine Feehan and Karen Moning, but it was always Ms. Garwood that pushed me to hope and dream a bit more.

What are you working on now?

I'm working on a Christmas romance I've titled The Highland Star. It is a historical romance set in England and Scotland in the Middle Ages, which is a huge venture for me. I never thought I would write a Highlander story again. So far it is full of joy and a tenderness I thought I had lost. I have several projects sitting on the back burner right now.

Where can people find you online?

My website is I post news and updates there. On Facebook you can like my author page at, and I'm on Twitter @Rebecca_Minto.

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Here is my video for Angel in My Heart, Devil in My Soul
Angel in My Heart, Devil in My Soul is sold at:

 My Angel My Light As Darkness Falls is sold at:
Please stop by Writerly Wednesday today for my interview and make a comment or read information about Linda Hays-Gibbs

Sunday, December 2, 2012

Excerpts from Angel in My Heart Devil in My Soul
By Linda Hays-Gibbs

When Rachael awoke, all rational thought blew away on the
light breeze from his breath, as his mouth descended on hers. The kiss started light but it turned into something else. Rachel recognized his need. She tasted it in his kiss, felt it in his arms that cradled her, wanted her and she wanted him...fiercely. No one could kiss with such tenderness, such consideration, such understanding and love, unless it came from the wellspring of their being. He must love her. It was crazy but she felt she knew him and belonged to him in a primeval sort of way. This was so right and the kiss so wonderful. Closing her eyes, she turned towards him, and his arms closed around her. He deepened the kiss even more, and his mouth gently pried hers open. It surprised and excited her, fueling the flaming flicker of desire within her instead of satisfying it. His tongue invaded her mouth, stroking and tasting. Surprised, her eyes popped open, and she pulled back. How could this be happening to her?
Desire was a drug, its addiction potent and it hung in the air
about them. He had stolen her breath, held her mind and senses
enthralled. His slow, achingly sweet exploration of her mouth left her emotionally and mentally reeling.
      “What are you doing out here?”
“I could ask the same of you, my sweet. Why are you running
away? How do you think you can make it on your own?” His face, harsh even in the moonlight, caused her heart to race.
“I do not know but I am determined to try. Get out of my way.
I really need to go.” John reached around her with his arms and crushed her body to his. His mouth came down on hers and he kissed her long and hard, his arms like iron imprinting her softflesh with his body. Rachael held back for a minute and then her arms went aroundhim, clinging to him with all her strength. She kissed him back, her mouth pliant and hungry, luxuriating in the taste, the scent, and the feel of her body opening to him.

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Another great interview on Launch Day
Angel in My Heart, Devil in My Soul
remember to get your copy at
Please check out this interview!  How exciting that Morgen Bailey did this for me on Launch day
My new book "Angel in My Heart, Devil in My Soul"
launches to today win door prizes and more at 2 EST and 7 EST

Here are some excerpts and blurbs from my book.

Angel in My Heart, Devil in My Soul

By Linda Hays-Gibbs


     He was a minion of the Devil.  She was an angel of goodness.  They were meant for each other but things had gone horribly wrong.  The only hope for them was in their love.  As she searched for him to love, he searched for her to kill her.  His job was simple and he had done this many times before but there was something about her, some strange scent and feeling. 

     She fell down the stairs and lost consciousness at his feet.  He picked her up in his arms to take her to a room and make sure she was dead.  He had his command and knew his job well.

     Would he kill her or love her?  Was there hope for a killer?  Could he ever love anyone?






A tall man in a scarlet cape with jet-black hair and a mustache

entered the library. He leisurely strolled over to the fireplace and

threw up his hands for warmth. Immediately, a fire blazed up in

the fireplace, overheating the room. He was extremely handsome,

but evil blistered from his black eyes. His tongue slithered from

his lips as he stared at Neville. A fog seeped in his wake, bringing

smells of sulfur and rotting flesh with it.

A hissing, breathy voice came as the room filled with sulfur

fumes. “I made my agreement with your family. I sssssssettled the

gambling debts and sssssset up your household. You owe me.” He

towered over Neville.

“I have the document in my hands. It states that you had my

father and me bound by it but not my son. You cannot corrupt

an innocent baby. He is God’s own. Surely you see that he had

nothing to do with this agreement?” Neville’s voice shook, and he

perspired profusely. He turned away to catch his breath and calm

his heart as he choked on the sulfur.

“I will have what I will. You cannot



The man in his sights looked around nervously. John knew

there was no chance that his prey saw him. He blended into the

smoky shadows. His silent footsteps followed the echoing ones of

the terrified man who hurried to get home. The man’s eyes darted

side-to–side, hopeless in their plight to spot the horror that he

knew in his heart followed him in the night. As the man rounded

the corner, he stopped to mop the sweat from his brow, searching

again the maze of tall buildings and ghostly shadows in the

blackness. His heart racing, he tried to focus and adjust his eyes

to the dark. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up in alarm.

He forced in a breath and shook his head. Certain people wanted

his life. He straightened and continued on his path, resigned in

his plight. His eyes dart from left to right, still searching and still

afraid. He walked faster to keep the dangers away. John slithered

in behind the man.

Peering into the dark, the man called to the shadows, “Hello?

Who is there? I warn you, I have a gun. I am armed. I will not be

taken easily. You’d best move along.” The man narrowed his eyes.

This man was neither good nor bad. He was just a man who

was in the way of another man, and he had to be removed. John

stalked the night on many occasions just like this. It was second

nature to him. The inky, black void was as comforting to him as a

mother’s caress.

A dark void paced beside him as he penetrated the black and

saw his prey. John caught the man by the throat and smiled into

his desperate face. A swift dagger into the ribs, and ultimately

the victim’s heart, would end this quickly however, John wanted a

little fun in his game. The man gurgled a half scream as his eyes

widened in horror. The dagger sliced the back of his leg. The left

wrist came next. As blood spurted, the man screamed until John

jabbed smoothly into his neck. The man stumbled away, limping.

Now, nothing came from his mouth. His eyes searched John’s

face, but he found no pity, no help for his life. Silently, the man fell

into the gutter like a rag doll. The street claimed another life in

the rat holes of London.

John quietly and leisurely walked away. As he sauntered

through the night, he thought of his next victim.



Rachael was a beautiful girl with wide, yellow

eyes and dark brown chestnut hair and red and gold highlights

running rampant through it. Her hair fell in waves below her

waist and was tied with a yellow ribbon to keep it out of her eyes.

She sat down by a sad, old oak in a mossy mound of a tree root

that looked like a cradle. She stared into the sky, and her heart

spun in her chest. Her mind tried to grasp and hold to the truth

of things. Why do people always assume the Devil is a fairy tale?

Something told by people to frighten children. She knew the devil

was real, and Hell was a place you do not want to go.

Quietly, she picked a clover and tied it to another, making a

chain for a necklace. She spied a four-leaf clover.

“A lucky clover!” A wide grin lit up her beautiful face.


Rachel had dreams and visions, and one of her special dreams

was of a beautiful boy that was anything but beautiful in his ways.

He was cruel and hurt people, but she knew he had been hurt, too.

She saw him hurt in visions that started when she was very small.

She felt sorry for this boy but thought she was in love with him

too, or with the boy he was supposed to have been. Where was he?

Why did she dream about him?

Some part of her heart was drawn to this evil person, and she

did not know why. It was a mystery for her, but she knew she could

help him, if she could find him. She swallowed hard to hold back

tears, for she knew he suffered. She bit her lip hard to stop the

sobs. Her sad eyes roamed the hills, searching for answers



John Monroe was now six and a half feet tall, broad of shoulder,

with coal black hair, dark blue eyes, fringed with long thick

lashes. His face had high cheekbones, a straight aquiline nose,

black slashes for eyebrows, and a cleft in his chin. When he smiled

he had dimples surrounding a mouth of perfectly carved lips

so sensual as to make women weep. With the grace of a cat, he

moved through shadows aloof and confident in his own power as

a minion of the devil. He did not know for how long he had killed

people. Days and nights merged into each other forming a haze

of horror. Sometimes it was as if he looked out from a window

at what he did. It was not him doing murder, but some other evil

John. If only it was that simple. He shook his head in dismay at

his stupidity.

John arose from his bed of daydreaming and washed his face.

He put on his shirt and breeches. He had a dark green superfine

coat and a silk brown vest with stags embroidered on it. His

breeches were brown leather and his black boots shined like glass.

His cravat was tied in several intricate loops


Monday, October 22, 2012

Please check out my little travel interview. It's different and I loved doing it.

Friday, October 19, 2012

I have a wicked give away.  I will give a copy of "My Angel, My Light As Darkness Falls" to the two people who figure out who the vampire that loves Pru is?  Hint:  He is a nice guy.  He fought in the battle or was wounded in the battle.  He is hidden most of the book.
Duke of Sumerled

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Check out Writerly Wednesday with Sally and me for a great interview and check out my new video of Angel in My Heart Devil in My Soul

Monday, October 8, 2012

Let us welcom Dina Rae and her Horror stories.  I am amazed at the Horrific tales that she
invents.  I love all her stories.  Her "Halo of the Damned" and "The Last Degree" so here is her latest tale sit back and be prepared to be scared out of your wits.
Do You Know Your Zombies?
With the so-called zombie apocalypse approaching, one must be educated about the different kinds of zombies before prepping for defense. First, there is the most common and believable-the human that turns into a zombie because of mental collapse, disease, infection, and/or radiation. They stagger around dazed and confused and cause panic to others. Then there is the man-made monster kind or the kind Hollywood and horror authors like me tend to capitalize on.
Zombie interest continues to fascinate the world. Jeffrey Dahmer drilled holes then poured acid down his victim’s heads in hopes of creating his own zombie. His madness didn’t work. Can man make his own zombie? Are these monsters real?
According to Wade Davis, author of The Serpent of the Rainbow, zombies are real. They are a product of the Voodoo religion. He was originally hired by a pharmaceutical company to find out about the drugs Voduists used in their death rituals. He believed that datura also known as zombie’s cucumber was a plant that could medically make one who ingested it appear to be dead for a certain length of time. Sounds like the stuff Juliet used to fake her death. Could Shakespeare known about the magical zombie-making plant?
Datura or sometimes Cimora, a close relative of Datura’s, eventually wears off but leaves the victim in a state of confusion, highly susceptible to the art of persuasion. Presto! A zombie slave is at the captor’s disposal. Mr. Davis didn’t just find his datura flower, but witnessed zombie phenomena as he immersed himself within the Haitian culture.
Bad Juju is a unique blend of horror, romance, and fantasy. Besides The Serpent and the Rainbow, I read volumes of other Voodoo material and watched hours of TV specials. Some of the terms I learned can be found below:
Bokor: A wizard who practices black magic, a zombie maker.
Loa: deity/spirit
Ghede Family: A family of loas known as the spirits of the dead. Three barons rule the family. Baron Samedi is the loa of resurrection. Baron Kriminel is the most feared loa associated with cannibalism and souls. He’s honored on The Day of the Dead. Baron LaCroix is the loa of the dead and sexuality.
Poppet: Voodoo doll
Ti-bon-ange: “little good angel” The part of the soul that represents a person’s individuality.
Gros-bon-ange: “great good angel” Part of the soul that is collected into a reservoir of the Cosmos or spirit world.
Baka: Voodoo spirits in animal form.
Loup Garou: werewolf
Djab: a devil
Dessounin: Death ritual that separates the gros-bon-ange from the body.
Bizango Society: Secret society of Vodouists. They have Freemason-like qualities such as aprons, secret handshakes, oaths, hierarchy, and symbols. Legend states they change into animals at will. They are known for stealing black cats and boiling them to death for Voodoo services. They drink each other’s blood from a human skull chalice.
Bad Juju is FREE ALL WEEK: 10/9-10/13 on Amazon!
Dina Tosto/Dina Rae
Twitter: @haloofthedamned

Saturday, September 29, 2012

Hello everyone! This is Linda Hays Gibbs and I have a treat for you today. Let us welcome outstanding, bestselling author, Richard Burns…Hello Richard, I am thrilled to have you here today .

And I’m thrilled to be here too! Before I forget, my webpages are below:
Thank you so very much for having me!

You are welcome…now let's get down to basics. Richard’s book, SWEET CHOCOLATE’S FIRST TASTE is available on Amazon. Tell me something interesting about your life that few people know.
Personally, I guess it’s all rather mundane. I grew up in the Chicago area, went to Catholic school, up until I was paroled into the Public High School system.  I left high school early and joined the US Army when I was 17 years old.  Some of those days are explained in much more explicit detail in my short story, “Sweet Chocolate’s First Taste.”

I left active duty in January 1986, and became a Chicago Police Officer on the South side.  I did that for eight years before becoming a Federal Agent for the Defense Department.  I was the “Last of the Mohicans,” so to speak, when we closed our Chicago Field Office, which won me a transfer to Detroit, where I now live.

I re-enlisted in the US Army Reserve (USAR), in December 1986 and moved back & forth from the USAR & the National Guard, reserve status to active duty and all over.

It’s probably not a big secret, but I’m retired from the Army after 30 years as a Paratrooper and SCUBA Diver, with over 23 years in Special Forces.  I have 3 major overseas deployments, one to the Middle East in 1984, just after the bombing of the US Marine Barracks in Lebanon, and two deployments to Afghanistan.  My latest book, “Say Good Night,” is a fictionalized account of my last Afghanistan tour in 2009.  This story was mostly written contemporaneously to the events as they occurred on the ground.

Wow, that is some resume.  I find all of that so interesting and I for one appreciate all the wonderful servicemen that serve our great country.  So thanks for that now! Tell me about your interests?
I try to stay in shape so I love Long Distance Running, Orienteering, Cross Country Running, Photography (35mm, still not too accustom to Digitals), and we can’t forget writing.  Because at this time, that’s really all it is…a hobby.  I’d love to say that I’m writing my way through retirement, but I’m making so little money from my books, I think that’s all it’s going to be.

Of course, my latest interest has become writing.  Especially erotic writing.  I love the affect that a good writer can have on his reader.  Naturally, this goes for all genres, but in particular erotica. The way that it quicken the readers pulse, makes their breathing quicken slightly, makes them wetten, or makes them hard enough to drive railroad spikes, so that when you look to your wife or your husband, you give her/him the look.  The look that says, “Hey, let’s go enjoy each other’s company, just a little more…”

Books are great fun, aren't they now...What is your favorite book?
As far as contemporary authors, my good friend, Steve Hartov is an outstanding author.  He has uncanny powers of description that I try to emulate.  He can paint a picture before the reader’s eyes that make you believe he is looking at it as he is writing it.

As for the timeless classics, Mark Twain, I think that he is on par with William Shakespeare!  There are so many kids I hear these days talking about how irrelevant those authors are because “they are so old, the stuff they wrote about in their day can’t possibly have any bearing on what’s going on today…”  What these Simpletons don’t realize is what these authors wrote will ALWAYS be timeless classics, because they didn’t write about the current issues of their day, so much.  What they wrote about was the one thing that will remain consistent throughout the ages:  Human Nature.

That is so true. What made you start writing?  What made you write this story?
An old friend of mine used to rave about the letters I used to write.  Always pushed me to be a writer.  My cousin Nancy writes a weekly journal on each of her deployments, she calls “The Chronicles of Nancy.”  So, on my last deployment I started writing my own version of my adventures.  When I returned home, everybody who read them just could not say enough about them.  I sent them out weekly, and I made every week a serious cliff hanging event.  I wanted everybody sitting on the edge of their seats until the next edition came out.  Everybody said I should send them to a publisher, so I did.  I made every week’s edition a separate chapter.  Naturally, for security reason, there was not a lot I could write about in reality.  Everybody is going to wonder, where the line is between fiction and reality.  But I’m going to leave it at that.

What time period is this story? What genre?
2009, current day in Afghanistan.  Although I have an idea for a series of Historical period pieces.  In particular a sort of Western Series, post Civil War, with the Railroad and our country’s expansion west.  Naturally, I want it to be very heavy in eroticism!  I want both women & men to read my books.  The women who have read “Say Good Night,” have all loved the intense, underlying sexual energy that is brought out by one character, and in reality, is always a very real, Omni-present factor in all relationships during long deployments or extended periods away from family.  While “Say Good Night,” is a Military/Espionage, Suspense/Thriller, women will enjoy it too!  I promise!

Are you interested in other genre?
Like I just said, my latest book, is a Military/Espionage, Suspense/Thriller, my first book, SWEET CHOCOLATE’S FIRST TASTE is an Erotic-Romance.  I call it a book because it stands and sells alone, but it is actually a short story that I wrote for Simon & Schuster that now appears in their latest anthology of erotica for Black women, called Chocolate Flava, which launched on August 28, 2012.  This story, while a short one, will leave the reader totally and completely satisfied.  This is so much more than just an erotic story.  This is certainly not a “wham-bam-thankyou-ma'am.”  This is a story of a true but short lived romance.  By the way, this story sells on my webpage for just 1.99.  Once again, I promise!  You’ll love it!  And yes!  The sex is very HOT! 

Give me an Excerpt and brief Synopsis of this book.
Of course!  In fact, if you’ll allow me, I’ll give you an excerpt of both SAY GOOD NIGHT and SWEET CHOCOLATE’S FIRST TASTE.

I assumed a position above the quarry, which afforded me an excellent view of the road leading from the top, all the way to the bottom.  The road was perhaps 900 meters away, and the farthest portion of the quarry floor approximately 700 meters.  Not a soul was in sight.  I noticed my breathing was much faster and it wasn’t all from the crawl.  I began my series of exercises to slow my breathing and heart rate.

19:08 Hours

A gray Toyota Hilux pickup truck was seen driving down the road from the top of the quarry with three passengers in addition to the driver.  Once they were at the quarry floor, I could identify the third man from the bazaar that I had seen earlier with ‘Stretch’ and ‘Stumbles.’  He was waving his arms wildly and speaking in loud tones which I could still hear faintly, despite the distance.  He appeared to be the instructor in the crowd, perhaps fifty to fifty-five years old.  Everybody else was at least between twenty-five and forty years old.

Ten minutes later, another Hilux was seen driving down the road towards the bottom with a driver and two passengers.  I slowly and quietly unfolded the bipod legs of my M-21 sniper system (yeah, it’s old, but it still works).  Now, I was bathed in sweat.  The pressure was always intense.
There was a crane and a bulldozer at the bottom of the quarry.  Old Russian pieces of shit.  But nobody made any moves to start any machinery, or equipment.  Not the crane, not the dozer, not a dump truck.  Nobody was there to do any quarry work.  This was a bomb making class about to be in session.

19:21 Hours

I was losing light fast.
The driver of the second vehicle broke from the group and started the generator near the shack at the base of the quarry.  Within a minute, the entire quarry was bathed in glowing bright light.  I could feel the sweat flowing freely from me now. 

As if to make some kind of point, the instructor raised his arms to shoulder height and turned 360 degrees to show everybody how bright it was, or how vast his power was, or some other such crap.
Now came the stingingly cold blooded aspect of this job.  It’s cold blooded, because at that precise moment, before action commences, you’re shooting a man who is no real imminent threat to you, specifically.  Furthermore, I positioned myself a good 200-300 meters beyond the maximum effective range of their rifles, provided they didn’t have anything bigger than your garden variety Russian AK.  You have to be able to accept the solace that comes with the knowledge that he would kill Americans on another day.  All of them would.  They would all happily march us down to the train stations and load us all on to cattle cars haul us away, then march us right up to delousing.  You, me, all of our children and grandchildren.  Well, not today.  I made a note of the time, 19:21;  Start of action.  Either way, I had decided that it was time for them to die.

The pressure completely enveloped me now.  It was stifling and oppressive, breathing was difficult as my chest was so tight.  I felt the old familiar tension headache, come on instantly.  It always felt as if my head were clamped in a vice.  Despite the relatively pleasant 80 degrees, I was now soaking wet with sweat.

I raised the weapon, took a second to dry my sweaty hands on my sleeves, deep breaths, then I took a reading of my winds.  They were very light, maybe 2-4 knots, and they were at my back, no value …        I couldn’t see any dust flying anywhere in the kill zone.  A straight on simple shot.  How often does that happen, I asked myself.  Not much.  Never mind that, they’re targets, nothing more, and it’s just another day on the range, I coached myself.  Breathe deep, steady, in…   out…  line ‘em up.  Come on, Sweet Cheeks.  Let me see your smile.  Turn a little more.  Steady hand, smooooooooth squeeeeeeze…   Now…

By way of introduction, this story was written in response to a call for submissions for Erotic Stories of people’s first sexual experiences.  It was selected by Simon & Schuster to appear in their anthology for Black women, Chocolate Flava 3.  And, Yes!  It is the story of MY first experience.  The story is available all on its own for just 1.99.  Once you get past the fact that the heroine in is a prostitute, you are going to love this story! 

Instantly, I was captivated, and a little intimidated by both her age, almost 30, and her luscious beauty.  The woman, and she was a real woman, not a kid, had a pleasant round face with high cheek bones that gave it depth.  She was tall, perhaps 5’7”, but I was struck by her very dark, coffee brown complexion, which seemed at odds with the flowing, shiny curls of gorgeous shoulder length hair.  My palms were sweaty at the thought of getting them on her beautiful, perfectly proportioned breasts.  Those breasts seemed to call to me, with each sway and bounce.  Her soft white cotton dress fit her form sensationally, hugging her upper body alluringly, accentuating the breadth of her torso before tapering down to her narrow waist, then loosely flowing over the graceful, but sweeping curve of her hips.  My arms wanted to circle that narrow waist, to lay my hand atop that scrumptious, perfectly developed ass, and then just pull her body to mine.  To press our chests and hips together, to meld into a single being; to feel her softness pressed against my hardness.  To feel the slope and curve of her back as those glorious breasts pressed against my chest.  She was perhaps the most beautiful black woman I had ever met.  All of these thoughts vanished quickly with my growing anxiety at my impending moment. 
Juan was still frantically undressing, “Hey guys, I need the room for a while.”
“Hey ya’ll,” she gave us a wave of her hand; “He and I have an... arrangement. If you guys want to make a similar arrangement…we’re talking about forty dollars. A piece.” Until that moment, I had no idea she was a hooker. I was seventeen, remember, and a virgin.


Who is the Hero or Heroine?  Can we interview them?
There is no Heroine, so to speak, in SAY GOOD NIGHT and SWEET CHOCOLATE’S FIRST TASTE, the Heroine, or more accurately, Love Interest, is a woman named Trisha, actually Patricia who is unavailable for comment or criticism.  If you read the story, you’ll understand why.

Have them describe themselves to us. What motivates your hero?  What do they want?  Is the hero having a hard time?
That’s easy, both of those two stories are written from my point of view.  So, if there IS a hero, it would be me!  Now the motivation is another easy answer, I’ve been a professional soldier since I was 17, and while it may sound corny or cheesy, I really do have an intense love of country and a fierce dedication to mission accomplishment.  You think that’s hokey?  I don’t much care.  That’s just the way that is.

Now, in SWEET CHOCOLATE’S FIRST TASTE my motivation was much easier to explain:  I was a horny teenager, so curious, so thrilled at the thought of actually get to do what everybody else so raved about.  I was finally going to find out for myself, what all of the excitement and fever was about.

Who would you get to star in a movie to be them?
 Now that I’m retired, I’m not a young man anymore, so George Clooney would be my pick to play me.  I think he did an outstanding job in The Peacemaker, another story, very similar to mine.

What is next for you?
 Hopefully, I’ll soon get a chance to get started on that Erotic Western Series. I also have an idea for a fiction series set in Detroit (where I now live), not too far into the distant future, where it becomes a sort of 21st Century no man’s land.  I don’t want to give anything away here, so I hesitate to say anything more.  This series would be strictly an Action/Suspense line with absolutely NO eroticism.  I just don’t see a way to work it in without diluting the story.

Do you have another book you are writing?
Actually, I have a fictional series in mind, set in Detroit.  I really hesitate to say anymore on the book because I really don’t even have it outlined at this point.

But, who knows how I’ll do for time in the future.  Perhaps I’ll find myself with a plethora of time, means & opportunity.  We can hope anyways!

Tell us about it. What is the book you wish you had written?
Henry V; as a former Military man, this is the quintessential book on Leadership & Perseverance.  

Where can we buy your book?
Where can we find you?
My website address is:

Well, I live in the Detroit area now, but don’t have any signings planned.  Keep your eyes on my webpage for that.  Thanks!

Do you have a blog?  Do you have a page?
Afraid not, but I really am anxious to read any comments that anybody cares to post in the comments section of the webpage.

Thank you for the interview, Richard Burns. Good luck!