Spanning the decades between the late 60's and 2006, is the compelling true story of an entertainment industry icon and the love of his life. Chances are, you've seen many of his shows. And as prolific as his career is, most would say they know him. At least...they thought they knew him. Living this precarious façade so believably, he had the world thinking they knew exactly what and who he was...but they could not have been more wrong.

In a new book to be released this November 1st 2007 and destined to become a New York Times Bestseller, a celebrity identity will be shattered, and rebuilt as the deepest secrets about this man's private life are made public for the very first time.

Equally revealing is the devastating true story of the woman he meets on a Hollywood set. Two lives so totally opposed that at any other time in history, they never would have crossed paths. But at the height of the cocaine frenzy in the 80's, all the rules were re-written.

For more than twenty years this incredible true story has remained hidden, the secret rarely spoken of. From the most degrading of family abuses, self destruction, insanity, and violence, to the most intimate moments of tenderness, hope, courage, and renewal, every person will find a piece of themselves and their own life within the story of these two people.

Movie stars from the golden era of Hollywood's "Sweater Girl" Lana Turner, to today's most well known screen favorites, make appearances in each of their lives. From inside the fashionable parties of the elite, teenage millionaires, and exclusive evenings within the walls of the playboy mansion, to the sticky alcoves, gutted out hotels and street corners where the homeless cashed out their hope, and young runaways lift a leg for a needle or a fancy ride, this story has every element of the human condition. It is at once, an insider's glance at the kind of fame and fortune we all can only dream of, and a raw, uncompromised expose' about street life, drug abuse, sexual perversions, greed and spiritual depravation.

Although celebrity drug use is widespread and certainly not so shocking anymore, the premeditated stalking and recurring sexual abuse of a young male celebrity is. Memories are shared with such candor and courage, that the reader is compelled not to look away.

Much like a train wreck, or a decapitated body.

The shame, and a compelling need for acceptance was dealt with by hitting every self-destruct button he could find. The more money that is made, the more frenzied and excessive our celebs life gets.

Until the day he hits a new low, his final rock bottom, and as if by some divine appointment, he meets a woman.

Raised in the confusing world of an underground religious cult, she was taken on weekends by her Father to the home of screen legend Lana Turner, where he served as Lana's personal manager.

Sunday evenings, the young girl rode silently in the convertible, black Cadillac, through the valley and back to the 1970's low rent apartment of her mother. Her mother...the "Apostle"...or..."John the Baptist" as she proclaimed to be to her daughter over and over.   "The Chosen One", and her ex-convict boyfriend Bernie, who was living with them and raising pigeons in the living room of their three bedroom rental.

Given over to her mother's 'Apostle' boyfriend at the age of 11,

She is raped daily in her own home until finally, at 15, she runs away to the streets of Hollywood, cocaine and heroine.

Only Hollywood could provide the opportunity for these two people to meet. And only meeting her could provide our celebrity the venue to battle his own demons...by taking on hers.

Through two decades we watch them firmly holding onto each other through the trials of what could be ten relationships. The devastation of   cancer, the loss of a baby, the several times each of them should have should have separately been found dead. Utter chaos in a twenty-year battle to survive the multiple attempts at ending drug use, ex-spouses, the murderous stalking of ex-boyfriends. Through their friendship and devotion to each other they discover that they can only find freedom in true forgiveness. The Courage to let go of betrayal after betrayal, regardless of what had happened in the past, health and vitality in laughter and endurance...and in building a home together, they turn, almost surprised, to face each other as they were truly made to be. Full...Without bitterness...Scarred, strong, deep, and built to last.

From Women's prisons, to stadiums full of people at various conventions, their time is spent sharing how compassion, grace, and endurance coupled with honesty and the willingness to keep getting up doing the hardest work...facing yourself...brings peace and depth to a life hard won.

Their story will touch everyone who sees it...and inspire and encourage everyone who has been broken on the wheels of life.

Willie - From "Warning Lights and Two Women"

Warning Lights and Two Women...Gentry. That’s what they call it. Sometimes known as Ferrari Red, Ticket Me Red, Look at Me Red. There are a million names for it. But the official name of my car’s color was Gentry—Gentry Red. It was 1982, and I was twenty-two. My Porsche 911S was cruising at a comfortable seventy-five miles per hour as I took the freeway off-ramp. The ramp was one of my favorites—long and winding to a killer right curve and ending at a T that would lead me to Pacific Coast Highway. I began tightening my seatbelt as the car physically sucked down on the road, increasing speed so quickly that I was forced down into my seat, but not with a jerky, harsh increase in speed—not this car. This acceleration was almost imperceptible, except for the g-force that made it difficult to keep my head from becoming a permanent feature of the headrest. The car’s engine, a 2.1 RSR racing engine, whined impressively. My California vanity plate read "RoQ yoU." As the smear of color that was my car blasted out of the curve, I pressed the pedal even lower to the floorboard, keeping the car online, its "whale tail" forcing more energy on the rear axle to grab the road and stabilize the ride. I shifted gears as I drank a large iced tea and expertly rolled a joint with my right hand.

The Cars’ "Just What I Needed" blasted from a massive Blaupunkt stereo, and my sunroof was open completely, exposing my senses to the increasing smells of the looming harbor and the West Coast. California. My California. The greatest place on Earth to grow up and live in. It was gonna be a great day. So I told myself. Under the surface of the expensive cars, the beautiful house, the money, the fame, the constant partying, and all the cocaine I wanted, some warning lights were flashing, but I didn’t, I couldn’t, see them. Three of them were women. The first two included a woman I booted out of my life and another that I took into it. Later, a third one would come into my life during the making of a movie. During what turned out to be the last season of Eight Is Enough, I had come off a short band tour and had some free time. Dad and Mom were in charge of Dad’s annual firemen’s barbecue and had asked me to help. Sure, why not? Everyone got a kick out of the "big movie star" serving everyone’s food. I was cooking steaks on the grill when Mom came up. "I have to introduce you to Victoria, Willie." She pointed out a beautiful, petite, olive-skinned brunette with the classic late ’70's big hairdo. We began dating immediately, though the way my touring and taping took me in and out of her life must have been frustrating for her.

Maylo - From "Pick Up Your Foot, Maylo!"

Pick Up Your Foot, Maylo!...I loved the sense of danger and drama that revolved around Sean; it fed my anger. But one evening, his anger got out of control. Because of Sean’s long hair and good looks, he was often taunted by street people. one night as we walked back to Sean’s car, which was parked on a side street off the Boulevard. A skinny black guy stepped out from the alley and started making kissing noises.

“Hey, pretty boy,” he said.

We both turned around. Both Sean and the other guy said something threatening, but Sean seemed relaxed to me, with his hands down at his sides. I think he assumed the little confrontation was over.

In a snap Sean was on the ground. He had been sucker-punched hard in the face, and the blow threw him backward. He slid into the street on his back. I stood there in shock. I started yelling at the guy and just couldn’t stop. And the more I yelled, the more this guy wanted to hit me. Sean got up and it seemed the confrontation was over. Sean put one hand out like he was going to shake the guy’s hand. He smiled, said something peaceable, and took one quick step towards his attacker. The guy went down, and it got quiet. It happened so fast I couldn’t even tell what was really going on. Sean and I looked at each other. The man was holding his stomach and staring at Sean like he was surprised. Sean turned to me and commanded, “Run!”

There was blood all over the guy’s hands and he wasn’t getting back up. I turned around and took off. I was disoriented and kept trying to find the car, and when I finally did, my lungs were burning and my legs were shaking. Sean was right behind me.