The brief excerpt below is from the Introduction page to "Under Their Thumb." Extensive excerpts have appeared in the Sunday Times of London and as a three-part serial in the New York Post



You’ll probably want to kill me when I say my only job in life was with the Rolling Stones. Even as a teenager, I wasn’t mowing lawns, washing cars, or asking if you want fries with that. I was traipsing after my favorite rock band and writing about it in Beggars Banquet, the newsletter I launched on my 16th birthday. When I published the first issue, I had no idea where it would lead or how it would dictate the course of my life.

I shouldn’t have been with the Stones in the first place. To be welcomed into their orbit, you have to bring something to their table: drugs, sex, fame, or the ability to carry their luggage better than anyone else. But all I had was my stupid little newsletter.

This is the story of how I made it into the Stones’ inner sanctum and how I crawled out. It’s also about the overachievers and underachievers - the groupies, pushers, and flunkies - I met along the way. People who dedicated their entire lives to remaining in that sanctum. Some of them are still there, and some of them got carried off in handcuffs or caskets. But all of us lived our dream of hanging with the Rolling Stones.

Be careful what you wish for.