Richard Hawke was
born and raised in the heart of a major American city in the
Industrial South. The fire to become a writer ignited for the boy
at an early age, most particularly with his multiple devourings of
the DC comics Batman series as well as the Howard Pyle rendition of
'Robin Hood', both being stories of audacious outsiders taking
whatever drastic or heroic efforts are necessary in order to put
wrong back to right.
A steady diet of good, bad, and mediocre literature throughout his
teenage years whetted Hawke's appetite for the audacity of the
written word, and it was while in college in the Eastern Midwest
that Hawke began sharpening his spear for a determined thrust at a
career in fiction.
Upon graduation (not with honors), a somewhat extended blur appears
in the Hawke biography, as the realities and necessities of
day-to-day survival effectively trumped the dream of his attempting
to churn out publishable fiction. Even so, Hawke kept his hand in,
writing book reviews for several newspapers, creating advertising
copy, slamming the short story form all around the room...all this
while leading a life of very modest debaucherie and the occasional
wandering down wrong streets and dark alleys. Research.
Breaking away at last from the workaday world with a determination
to re-ignite his dream of one day doing his day job barefoot and in
sweatpants, Hawke took up residence in the city with the enormous
pulse, New York City. It was here that darkness and wonder in equal
measure (remember Batman?) presented themselves and began seeping
deeply into his skin. Too late by several decades to rack up a
closet full of worn shoe leather, Hawke traipsed the boroughs in a
succession of comfortable cross-trainers, keeping an eagle eye out
for how things operate in the most amazing city in the world.
Finally he turned his pen towards Gotham, aiming to capture the
adrenaline, the daily sense of mystery, the smells, the jostling,
the dangers, and the rich palette of characters that inhabit the
streets, bars, clubs, penthouses and underbellies of this city
where everyone has a story to tell as well as a stupendously unique
voice with which to tell it.
SPEAK OF THE DEVIL is the firstborn of those efforts. Hawke's hope
is that the story moves as swiftly as the Number 3 train on a good
day and that, as with any good subway ride, you're going to
encounter something there that leaves you just a little bit
breathless and that you can't wait to get above ground and tell
Or...perhaps you'll simply panic and pull the Emergency cord. That
would be fine too.