This novel was inspired by Hack’s honeymoon for his disastrous first marriage in 1958. Hack took his new bride to Niagara Falls but they were followed by a small-time hood that Hack owed money to who was furious that Hack spent his last few dollars on his honeymoon instead of paying him back. The hood attempted to shoot Hack but he hit his new bride instead before being gunned down by local law enforcement. The girl went into a coma and Hack had the marriage annulled before putting her in a bargain-basement hospital where she remains in a comatose state to this day. The book sold well and served loosely as the basis for the 1966 Tony Curtis comedy “Not with my Wife, You Don’t.”
Hack has always been suspicious of his cover artist Jonny M.’s pug Boris and has spent thousands of dollars on private investigators to find out about the little dog’s history. The P.I.’s took his money but (as you’d expect with a dog) discovered nothing, so he tried to recover his losses with this book which invented a fanciful and scandalous past for the pug. Not for the last time, Boris sued Hack for libel and received a hefty settlement.
Hack awoke on the first morning of 1976 to find the woman he had met at a New Year’s Eve Part the night before and spent the night with wasn’t in his room. When she had woken and realized who she had slept with, she got on the ledge and intended to jump. Hack spent the next three hours trying to convince her that life was still worth living but she wouldn’t come in until he got his fourth wife on the phone to tell her that sleeping with Hack wasn’t the rock-bottom it seemed like. She finally came off the ledge but she became a cloistered nun immediately afterwards. Hack wrote about it in this novel, although most of it is about the drunken anal sex they had after the party.
When his cover artist Jonny M. Told Hack that one of his countless lovers insisted on using a confection called Jonny Pops in their lovemaking, Hack wrote this book in one of many attempts to undermine Jonny’s reputation. The scheme backfired as usual, and Jonny received hundreds of letters from across the country from women wanting to try the erotic act with him.
A devilishly handsome soldier of fortune and his dog save a beautiful blonde from a fate worse than death at the hands of local mercenaries, only to subject her to a fate worse than death after they free her.
A gorgeous young virgin enters the seamy world of prostitution in order to find her missing father and discovers that she digs it. The ending has the mob boss who kidnapped her daddy torn limb from limb by a grizzly bear that she befriended.
This was based on a real-life incident where Hack invited three “nymphomanics” (in his words) over to trim a Christmas tree at a place he was house-sitting at while his van was being repaired. His plan was to use the ritual to start an orgy but things went awry when he went to the garage to get the ornaments and got locked in. The girls ultimately staged an orgy amongst themselves while Hack spent the night trying to fight off a rabid racoon that wanted to attack his genitals.
This was based on an incident when Hack was living in the basement of a woman he was attracted to, leading to (in Hack’s words) “a big misunderstanding.” It ended amicably, with the woman allowing Hack to publish this novel that he wrote in jail as long as he agreed to stay at least 500 yards away from her at all times.
A motorcycle gang comprised on men in their fifties ascend up a local girls high school and introduce the Valedictorian to the wonders of anal intercourse on her 18th birthday. But a gorgeous student teacher spanks the defiance out of her and when she receives an acceptance letter to Harvard on graduation day, she thanks her guardian angel with a torrid weekend of violent lesbian sex. Very loosely based on the teenage years of Ruth Bader Ginsburg.
Jessie had been trouble from the jump, a lean-strung sparkplug with too much fire in her frown and too many miles on those skin-tight blue jeans. The old crowd she ran with left dents in the night—dented streetlamps, dented reputations, dented futures. But when she transferred to Good Girl High School, the town watched like it was waiting for a train wreck. They didn’t expect the plaid skirt. They didn’t expect the buzz cut. And they sure didn’t expect Jessie, the on-again, off-again menace of Sycamore Street, to rise up from the ashes of her past and snag valedictorian like it was the most natural thing in the world.
But the thing about old habits is they sit quiet only long enough to draw breath. By the time the ink dried on the letter from Harvard—fat envelope, no surprises—Jessie was already slipping back toward the shadows. And in those shadows waited Jonny M., a young hoodlum with a smile sharpened like a shiv and a talent for trouble that left even the cops muttering prayers. He wasn’t alone, either. His pug Boris padded along beside him, a squat little enforcer with a bark that carried farther than any bullet. Together they’d been terrorizing the town with their bad-boy routines, and Jessie, top of her class and golden-ticket bound, fell for Jonny like sin was gravity.
Miss Syntz noticed before anyone else. She always did. Gorgeous, yes—so much so even the PTA gossips held their breath when she walked by—but strict enough to freeze an earthquake mid-shake. She remembered Jessie’s first semester: the snarls, the confrontations, the wooden paddle hanging behind her desk like a promise. She’d had to spank the defiance out of the girl more than once, and Jessie had come out the other side something sharper, cleaner, stronger. Now Miss Syntz watched her brightest student drift back toward the abyss, and her knuckles grew white around the chalk she snapped in half.
The way Miss Syntz saw it, there was only one path left. She’d walked the straight and narrow so long it had grooves worn into her shoes, but if the only way to save Jessie’s future was to step into the gutter herself, then so be it. She’d trade her tidy bun for danger, her rulebook for recklessness, and show Jonny M. what a real bad girl looked like. And maybe—just maybe—steal him right out from under Jessie’s nose. In a town where futures were fragile and trouble had teeth, Miss Syntz was ready to bare her own.
