I wanted to share the prologue of the book so you can get a feel of how the book reads:

Prologue

8 months after the story of "Hollywood Heartbreak | New York Dreams," I found myself with the opportunity to face my fears and finally return to Los Angeles.

The city where I had met my ultimate heartbreaker. The place where I wallowed in the pit of destructive drug addiction and alcoholic despair. The smallest big city I have ever lived in, where I first tasted betrayal and a hint of homelessness. The city, my "home," where I contemplated suicide over a cup of coffee and a line of Splenda looking like cocaine, sitting on a table at a famous 24-hour diner, before being handcuffed and nearly arrested. The glitziest city in the world that had turned me into the darkest and dimmest version of myself. The city I had to run away from.

"Face your fears," the preverbal THEY always say. Easy enough to say for a faceless entity, but not as easy to do for the actual person who had to take on the task. Who were THEY anyway? Were THEY going to be by my side when I boarded a plane again for the first time in over two years? Were THEY going to hold my hand when I landed in Hollywood and dared to walk back into the places where I had completely lost myself so many times? Were THEY going to give me advice on what to do when I saw the man who broke my heart but ultimately became the catalyst that forced me onto the beautiful path my life had taken?

No. It was me, and me alone, who had to fight this battle. I was in such a better place in my life at this point anyway. My book had been out for almost 3 months and had already received rave reviews and been a number one seller on many lists. I had made a complete 180 degree turn as a human being and I was now inspiring others to find their own divine paths. I was even inspiring some of the people I used to hang out with when I was such a wreck of a person. The truest example of "if he can do it, I can do it!"

Facing those people was a fear weighing on my chest as well; these people, my "friends," who seemed to turn their backs on me at my most desperate and lowest point in my life. How would they react to the new me? Would I even want them in my life anymore? Could the important people in my LA life embrace my change and accept my apologies for the life I lived? For the pain and anguish I caused them? Would I be the one to help them now? To save them from the edge of their own darkest days?

As I packed my suitcase for my return to Hollywood, I had flashbacks of how I got to where I was at that very moment: the drunken haze and homeless shelters that were the backdrop for my first year and a half in New York City. The evangelical that was on late night TV the evening that I decided to quit drinking and using drugs for good. The friends I had made in the shelters who became like family to me. Flashes of my time as a recurring character on NBC's "The Blacklist," when I became a Screen Actors Guild member and the time I hosted my own sold-out Off Broadway show as my alter ego Sarah Summers. The weekend that Tim came to New York and met Clarke, Catherine, and all my new family of friends at my book release event at The Stonewall Inn National Monument. Every amazing memory rushed through my head.

As I zipped the last pocket full of my new big city wardrobe, I had a feeling that this trip just might be a mind-opening journey. One I had to take in order to continue to grow and move forward as a human being. Would the voice of darkness and old temptations be stronger than the new found words of hope and light that now constantly surrounded my train of thought? Before I left, I consulted with my "spiritually adoptive parents" for advice.

Tim, the owner of the cake shop in Hollywood, who had become like a father to me over the years, was excited for this next step in my sober series of adventures. He helped me get a plane ticket with his Virgin America connection. He was still always there for me, with a little monetary help, (but now very infrequently), as I started to make a good living with my acting work and my server job.

Things at Parigot, the French restaurant, were still going well, too. I stopped by the night before I left for my trip to consult with my "French Momma," Catherine. She and I connected years ago over spiritual conversations, glasses of wine (back when I was drinking), and, eventually, over her motherly attitude towards me that helped push me into the person I had become today.

Like mother, like surrogate son, she had an alter ego as well: "Lady Catherine."This name was created out of her very serious love and wisdom of tarot cards. "Lady Catherine" would give readings to customers for $25 plus a free glass of wine, but for her spiritually adoptive son at another turning point in his life, it was free.

When we sat down at the marble four-seater table that sit halfway in the restaurant and halfway out onto the downtown SoHo street, I could feel the energy all around us. I hadn't asked her for a reading in a long time, maybe in over a year, because I full-heartedly believed in its power and was afraid of what the cards might say.

Sipping my hot peppermint tea from the white diner-style coffee mug, I watched as she began to shuffle the worn deck of ornately designed tarot cards. Looking across the table, her eyes almost the same bright color blue as mine, she asked, "Are you ready to see what the cards have to say, Kaleb?"

There was no going back now. "Yes," I said confidently, as she handed me the deck to cut. When the piles were separated and my cards were chosen, she began to decipher the messages that appeared to her. Hers eyes lit up when she saw The Star card and she frowned when she flipped The Devil card. She turned the rest of the cards over and let me in on their secret meanings.

"This trip will be absolute magic for you! I see mostly all good things in the cards here. You are really going to benefit from this trip. Spiritually and emotionally," she spoke in her comforting French accent, as she took a sip of Merlot in her fancy wine glass.

Putting the glass down in front of her, she continued, "But beware. There is temptation all around you. And you will see him again. It's up to you to decide how you will handle all this. But I know you will make the right decisions. You've come too far to go backwards now."

The "him" she was referring to was most definitely the rock star who had made me love again and then ripped my heart out of my chest at my weakest moment. A real gem of a man. I hadn't heard anything from him since I left Los Angeles over 2 years prior, but I had heard things about him. He was arrested multiple times, lost his beautiful house we once spent some magical moments in, and was still drinking and using drugs daily. I guess some things never change.

It was so strange for me to think that some of the people I left behind in LA were still living the same lives when my own life had changed so dramatically. Was I really ready now to face my fears and return to the city of angels that had been real hell for me? I guess we would find out. The plane was leaving the next day and I would be taking off to spend an adventurous one week in LA, two years later.