At The Viceroy, my first novel, was one of those 'just suppose' stories, born of several years living in apartment buildings. Didn't you ever wonder what your neighbors were REALLY doing behind closed doors? So I wrote several intertwined stories about my neighbors, the pretty blonde, the happy married couple, the loner guy, the two women living together on the third floor, and many more. Yeah, none of them were what they seemed. All of them had pretty active sex lives, complete with kinks and a few unexpected twists. At The Viceroy is a mystery. The original owner of the building disappears, and throughout the story we are constantly asked, whatever happened to him? Some believe that he went after his wife, and her lover. Others thought that he was murdered, and his body just might be stuck between the walls somewhere. We find out on the last page, of course. Meanwhile there's four-flame sex going on throughout. And I can tell you this: the guy ends up with the girl, it's just not the girl you might have expected.

My second book, Iceberg Tempting, is a love story told by a guy. I think it's unique because you get inside of Steve's mind, and doesn't a woman really want to know how a guy thinks? He just might not be that shallow. He loves Maria, he just can't say it. But he does tell you WHY he can't say it to her. They get too close, they split, they can't live without each other; they try it again. And again. And again. Sounds like something you've done, doesn't it? Both are overly sensitive people; she's an artist, he's a writer, both on the edge of success, and that just ratchets the tension that much more. Then there's the old boyfriend in the background, doing everything he can to get her back, doing dirty, nasty tricks to Steve. Does love survive all of this? That's the question.

I'm working on a semi-autobiographical story called The List. It's about a guy who kept a list of every woman that he'd ever made love to. He revisits the list many years later, and we're drawn into the past to see what had happened, and why some relationships worked and why most didn't. Again, you get inside of a guy's mind, and things are never as simple as you might think.

First Person will be my next release, sometime in the next few months. It's an anthology of ten sexy stories, all told in the First Person. My all-time favorite On a Train, is in there, a story about the woman he meets on a trip to New York and their brief liaison, and the things he'll wonder about for the rest of his life.

The reaction seems to be, He can't possibly understand romance because he's a guy. And to some degree, I agree with that. No guy can possibly understand the female point of view. So that isn't what I try to do. I try to tell an honest story from what I know, the guy side.

Like I'm caught in the middle. Guys think I'm selling out to women, women think I can't tell a good romantic story because I'm a guy. All you have to do is read my stuff. It seems to satisfy both fronts, because all I've been getting lately is good comments from both sides.

Oh, yes. At The Viceroy is a grabber. I'll suck you in on the first page, and you can't put it down until you're finished. Tina at eXtasy Books contacted me immediately. "Where's the rest of this?" She only had the first five chapters.

My mother. Just kidding. I always felt that there should be something in the middle, something between guy porn and women's erotica. I write guy erotica that women seem to like, too. My main male characters are intelligent, sensual, oftentimes considerate (yes, considerate) men, yet they still have a ring of truth about them.

Mainstream and mainstream erotica. I grew up in a big city, and I write what happens to people in big cities. Hey, you can find love in Chicago. I have.

Aw, you know most of that is bullshit. I went to lunch with a couple of ladies from work and asked them, 'What's your perfect man?' And I wrote it down verbatim. I'm just a guy who's had a lot of experience, and I write about it. I'm an athlete, a ballplayer, a former marathoner, and some of that knowledge allows me to flesh out my characters. I might be good-looking. I might not. Take a chance.

READ! Know your market before you put it out there, and that'll save you a lot of time and grief. Then be a man. Put it out there.

You know if you're a writer, because you live it already. It's a compulsion. If you just talk about it, you're not going to be a writer. If you're an unpublished writer, join a group online. They'll let you know if you've got it or not. The best one I ever saw is the Erotica Readers and Writers Association. Write that down. No, go visit their site. I can't say enough good things about them.

Right now I'm stuck in a sci-fi mode. But that will change. I go in cycles. I'm always reading erotica and men's porn, looking for new stuff. Sometimes somebody else's stories will jog my memory, and I'm off and writing about some girl from my past.

Oh, that's too revealing. My Significant Other is an artist. Man, I lived some of it.

You bet. I thought I had done pretty well with 'Iceberg,' including the evil Tod, the bad guy. I probably had the most fun with him.

I've been writing since I learned the alphabet. The story always came first. Or maybe it was the alphabet that came first. Or maybe…

HA! Most guys just don't get that one. It's actually a pretty selfish philosophy. Take care of her, and I'll guarantee she will take care of you. Be the lover of her dreams, please her first in bed, and you'll get it back tenfold. It's the taking out the garbage part that gets me in trouble.

Hey, I liked some of your questions. Thanks for asking. Come visit anytime. Take the guest bedroom. Watch out for the mints on the pillow.