At one point in my life, I had everything. A brilliant job at Wall Street. Hotter than thou fiancée that I adored from head to foot, fantastic set of friends, doting parents and a perfect imperfect Chihuahua named Fidel Castro.
I was living the dream…up until I caught my fiancée on all fours while her “healing guru” gave her his special daily dose of cleansing.
And just like that, the once perfect life I had crumbled like Mount Vesuvius was raining its wrath on me, leaving nothing unchecked. It wiped out everything…and when I say everything. I mean. Every. Single. Damn. Thing. That mattered to all men.
His mojo.