David A RollinsTo begin with, you might want to know where these Vin Cooper books have "sprung from?" My friends think I'm him. Or, more accurately, I would like to be him or think of myself as him-an alter ego. Well, no, that's not right because I've never killed nyone and have no desire to. Also, Cooper loves single malt, and I loathe the stuff. (There are other qualities, but those I'll leave behind the curtain.) We probably share some physical attributes, although I'm getting on in years (I started writing THE DEATH TRUST, the first Cooper book, back in 2003!) and Cooper's age has more or less marked time. Finally, he's good with the ladies (or bad if you want commitment). Me? Married for well past 30 years to a version of Anna.I guess the inspiration for these books sprang from my first reading of Clancy's Hunt for Red October. I never knew military thrillers were a thing. And then I read Nelson DeMille's The Lion, and his first-person character, John Corey, struck a real chord. There was a lot about Corey I liked. I wondered if I could create an American character with an Australian's cynical distaste for authority, but working in the military, where bending to authority is mandatory. Cooper fell naturally out of that stew.As for my interests-reading, of course. I'm a news junkie. And an ancient history nerd. I hold a private pilot license with aerobatic endorsements (although I'm not presently "current") yet, strangely, I'm afflicted with acrophobia. I boxed and practiced martial arts for several decades, and I hold an openwater SCUBA license. I've also had a lifelong love affair with motorcycles (and road-raced a Kawasaki H2 750 Triple "widow maker" pretty unsuccessfully when I was in my 20s). I've always loved the dangerous stuff, speed especially. Finally, my three adult children think I'm a dork, I live on the ocean beachfront at Manly, Australia, and my constant writing companion is Frankie, a wolfhound-ridgeback cross. She's a rescue dog. Oh, and I'm currently writing the next book! Read More Read Less