A proper Southern girl never uses the F-bomb, considers sex toys in the bedroom, or taking erotic pictures for her fiancé. But I’m no longer a proper Southern girl. I’ve moved beyond my religious upbringing and my violent past. I’m ready to try new things with Hendrix, to prove to myself that I’m strong and sexy. With the nudge of my best friend, I come up with a special and sexy Valentine’s Day gift for the love of my life. But being a famous singer quickly puts me in an unwanted spotlight and unleashes a media frenzy. Now the people I love the most are reaping the consequences. Did I make a huge mistake? Or is this the push I needed to create the life I’ve always wanted in the bedroom?