44 Chapters Series

After spending years trying to spice up my sex life, I gave up and took to my journal. Perhaps my gorgeous, cold, number-crunching husband simply wasn't capable of the kind of passion I'd come to expect. After all, my ex-boyfriends - a tattoo artist turned U.S. Marine turned motorcycle club outlaw, a baby-faced punk rocker out on parole, and a heavy metal bass player - were every bit as tattooed and testosterone fueled as the leading men in my favorite romance novels. If I couldn't have that kind of passion again in real life, I could at least write about it.

In 1997, Ronald "Knight" McKnight was the meanest, most misunderstood boy at Peach State High School...perhaps on the entire planet. Knight hated everyone, except for me, BB - the perky, quirky punk chick with the locker next to his. I, on the other hand, liked everybody...except for Knight. I was scared sh*tless of him, actually. All I wanted was to marry Prince Eric-lookalike and king of the Peach State High punk scene, Lance Hightower, and have a million of his babies. Unfortunately for me, Knight was even better at getting his way than I was.

Because BB Easton had so much fun writing her best-selling, award-winning memoir, 44 Chapters About 4 Men, she decided to give each of her four men his own steamy stand-alone. Speed is Harley's book - a gritty, 90s-era love triangle overflowing with dark humor, intense heat, and tangible teen angst. It is based on a true story. Ronald "Knight" McKnight was obsessive. Possessive. Downright psychopathic. But that didn't stop me from falling in love with him...or falling apart when he joined the Marines. When he left, Knight told me to "find someone better", but I didn't.

Because BB Easton had so much fun writing her best-selling, award-winning memoir, 44 Chapters About 4 Men, she decided to give each of her four men his own steamy stand-alone. Star is Hans' book - a whirlwind rock star romance based on true events. In 1999, I met my Prince Charming. He was the tall, tattooed, wickedly handsome bass player for the up-and-coming rock band Phantom Limb. But, more importantly, he was mine. I knew it the moment he flashed me that shy, dimpled smile.

“Since when are you into guys in ties? You only like guys who look like they rob guys in ties. At gunpoint.” It was true. By 2003, my type had been well established. There might as well have been a giant sign on my heart that said, “Good guys need not apply”. Which is exactly why I had to friend-zone Ken Easton. The man was a former football star, smelled like fresh laundry instead of stale cigarettes, and had more ties in his closet than tattoos on his knuckles. Pssh. Boring.