Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid. That's where my interest started.

Sure, Newman and Redford were handsome, but what were the real criminals behind the story like? A career in criminology at seven? The fiction was better than the fact.

You know who I am. You've read my books, or at least, statistics say it's likely you have. They keep you awake at night. You hear things that go 'bump', and jimmy your doors.

You probably wonder how my mind got so warped? No clue. I can attest to the fact that every report card from kindergarten on proclaimed I had an 'overactive' imagination. My nightmares are in technicolor.

My research is extensive and scrupulous. So much so, that I find I sometimes know my characters, or subjects better than I'd really like to. This is of benefit to the good guys.

I help out there, when I can. I can get into some very dark minds. I've actually even helped solve more than handful of crimes. The victims speak to me. No, not dead people. Some call it 'Psychological forensics'.

All I know is that I need a break from it all. Maybe a nice little cabin, down by the water. I have people to help me hide there. After all, I pay them well enough.