Scotty Bowers came back from World War II as an ex-Marine who’d fought in the Pacific. He went to work at a gas station in Hollywood. One day a famous (male) movie star dropped by for gas, picked Scotty up and took him back to his mansion for sex. A few days later, a friend of said movie star asked Scotty to fix him up with a handsome friend. Scotty did. And in the process began a ‘career’ of fixing up stars and others in the movie business with casual dates. He wasn’t a pimp; he took no money for this. He just saw it as a service to friends – both gay and straight. In the process, he had sex with a LOT of very famous people.
Is this book salacious? Yes. Is it gossip? Absolutely. Will it surprise/stun/amaze you to read about what some very famous names got up to? That’s probably the reason you’d buy it in the first place. Yet somehow it never reads like a kiss-and-tell written for the money. Scotty Bowers liked sex, had a lot of it, and helped friends and acquaintances have a lot too. In its own strange, peculiar way, the whole account manages to be – like its narrator – rather charming.
Even if it did leave me amazed at some of the revelations.