School psychologists aren't supposed to write books about sex. Lucky for you, ethics was never my strong suit. After spending years trying to spice up my sex life, I gave up and took to my journal. Perhaps my gorgeous number-crunching husband simply wasn't capable of the kind of passion I'd come to expect from my tattooed and testosterone-fueled ex-boyfriends. If I couldn't have that kind of passion again in real life, I could at least write about it. Right? Nobody had to know. It would be my little secret. Well, guess what? My husband found my journal. And guess what else? He upped his game. Soon I began testing the limits -- crafting journal entries specifically designed to influence Ken's behavior. For the most part, he responded beautifully ... except for when he didn't. And then I got the surprise of my life.
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