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Published by inGroup Press, a division of inGroup Marketing,LLC.MAVERICK MEN: THE TRUE STORY BEHIND THEVIDEOS. Copyright © 2010 by inGroup Press. All rightsreserved. This book may not be reproduced or transmitted inany form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including but not limited to recording, photocopying, file transfer, e-mail,or by any information storage and retrieval system, withoutwritten permission from the publisher. For more information,address inGroup Press.MAVERICK MEN: THE TRUE STORY BEHIND THEVIDEOS is based on true events in the lives of Hunter and ColeMaverick, the Maverick Men. Names have been changed toprotect the privacy of those referenced in the book.inGroup Press and the inGroup Press logo are trademarks of inGroup Marketing, LLC. The inGroup Press logo wasdesigned by Shelly Rabuse ( http://www.rabusedesign.com
 
 ).First inGroup Press electronic edition published 2010.ISBN: 9781935725015Visit our website:www.inGroupPress.com The following teaser trailer has been adapted for download onScribd.com, and consists of Chapter One of MAVERICKMEN: THE TRUE STORY BEHIND THE VIDEOS. Topurchase the full version, please visitwww.inGroupPress.com.Release Date: September 2010
 
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Chapter 1
 
narrated by Hunter
I think it was that Rhonda Byrne book on the nightstand.
The Secret 
. Or thatlonely guest bedroom with a single, and two windows wide open to steal a cool breezefrom the harbor. As soon as I saw that book I wondered why the hell they’d putsomething like that in a guest bedroom. I would never do shit like that. It’s bad enoughwhen you’re not staying in your own place; when you’re staying in the beach house of afriend of a friend, who you’ve never met before. Someone who you don’t know how to behave around, or at least not yet. I’d forgotten his name twice already since we gotthere. But then again, I was always bad with names. Faces, on the other hand, I’m particularly good with.They stuck me in a bleak room, something that belonged in an old Cape Cod bed& breakfast that was just waiting to be torn down. The furniture wasn’t real. I mean—itwas
real 
, but not something anyone would actually choose to put in their home. Itseemed like a room staged for old TV shows. There wasn’t any character in the small bed, the dark wooden nightstand with its long, thin legs, and that wooden chair with aegg-white cushion that was too rough to sit on. And
The Secret 
, tossed on the nightstandas if someone had been sleeping in that room every night, turning those pages every day.Like someone was expecting to come back and read it again. If it was me I’d at least fillthat space with some David Sedaris, or maybe a solid western like my grandpa used toread. Maybe a Louis L’Amour. What kind of host strives to depress their own houseguests with a self-help book?Maybe it wasn’t even the book though. I should add that there was a party goingon in the apartment that night. Usually I’m a little more social—or at least try to be—butI didn’t have any effort that night. We’d gotten to Provincetown around 2 PM on aFriday. I came with one of my co-workers, Chris, and his Irish boyfriend who I’d never met before that day.Let’s face it: 2 PM is way too early to arrive in a vacation spot if you’re notfeeling the vacation.

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