In his debut full-length novel, Stripped, author Erik Mario Austin unravels his chaotic return to Los Angeles, where what starts as a simple swipe on a dating app in search of love and sex quickly spirals into a nightmare. A twisting memoir that reads like fiction, Stripped follows Erik’s dramatic downfall after being labeled an addict on the run from rehab after a staged intervention. As rumors run wild, those who claim to be helping only push him further into destruction.
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Caught in a modern-day Dickensian underworld, Erik becomes ensnared in a ruthless network of homeless con artists—outcasts who survive by seducing, stealing, and scheming their way through Los Angeles’s glittering façade. In their desperate quest for drugs and shelter, they prey on the wealthy, handing over their stolen treasures to a manipulative kingpin—a twisted, modern-day Fagin—who doles out just enough to keep them hooked and loyal.
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Erik is forced deep into the city’s underbelly, where trust is a currency no one can afford, and every choice comes with a price.
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With raw urgency and fearless honesty, Austin rips the mask off society’s prettiest lies, plunging readers into a world of blackmail, betrayal, and brutal survival. Stripped is part porn, part dark comedy—a blistering, unflinching descent into madness, with slivers of wit and flickers of hope fighting to survive the wreckage.
Preorder Stripped: A Memoir now for only $20—including shipping! Books ship September 26th. Grab yours first!
WARNING: PROCEED WITH CAUTION (AND MAYBE A DRINK)
This book contains strong language, questionable life choices, illicit substances, and adult activities that your grandmother would definitely disapprove of.
If you’re easily offended, this might not be the book for you.
Reader discretion is highly advised (or totally ignored, your call).
🎤 Fun Facts About Stripped: A Memoir
1. It started as a book about Grindr.
No, seriously. It began as a funny, chaotic collection of hookup stories. But life had other plans—and the story went somewhere way deeper, darker, and more honest.
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2. Every chapter is based on a musical or a song title.
Because music has always been the soundtrack of my life—my heartbreaks, my highs, my healing. The references aren’t just clever… they’re part of the DNA of the book.
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3. I self-published it—twice.
The first time, I thought I was being bold. Brave. Fearless, even.
Turns out… I was being a little too fast and a little too trusting.
Legal red flags popped up pretty quickly—so I pulled the book, got a lawyer, regrouped, and started doing it the right way.
That meant reaching out to 18 real people mentioned in the book to ask for permission and have them sign a release.
Out of all of them, only two said no.
(Which, honestly, shocked me more than I’ll admit.)
But I respected it. I changed the names, rewrote the chapters, and moved forward—because the last thing I want is to tell my story at the cost of someone else’s peace.
Second time’s the charm.
And this time, it’s not just bold—it’s legal. 💅
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4. My mom told me she won’t read it.
She’s not happy I’m putting it out there. That’s hard to sit with. But this story isn’t about protecting anyone else’s comfort. It’s about reclaiming mine.
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5. I’m terrified what people will think.
But honestly? At this point, I don’t care.
The people who judged me already made up their minds. So I stopped writing for approval—and started writing for truth.
6. I hired a ghostwriter…
…and while the process was thrilling at first, it didn’t take long for my story to start sounding like someone else’s. They changed so much of the voice, the heart, the rawness. So I took it back.
Then I hired an editor who… well, let’s just say we didn’t vibe either.
They didn’t like my “voicey” writing. They flagged all the run-on sentences, the long-winded emotional rambles, the rhythmic flow of how I actually talk.
Sentences like:
“He said he loved me and I believed him—God help me, I really believed him.”
They wanted it more structured. More polished.
But I wanted it real.
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7. Most chapters were rewritten so many times I lost count.
Not just for legal reasons, but emotional ones.
Because every time I thought I had said what I needed to say, I’d realize—
There was still a deeper truth. A more painful angle. A version I hadn’t been ready to admit even to myself.
Some chapters felt like therapy.
Others felt like surgery.
But I kept going—rewriting, reshaping, re-owning the narrative.
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8. The final version is mine.
I kept a lot of what the people I hired contributed—some of their edits helped, and tools like Sudowrite and Grammarly definitely cleaned up the spelling and punctuation.
But ultimately? I went with what I liked best.
(Maybe that’s why I still don’t have a publisher or a literary agent. Who knows.)
It’s not perfect. But it’s honest. The chaos, heartbreak, growth, and weird humor.
And that’s all I ever wanted it to be.
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9. I wrote this for anyone who’s ever felt broken and still kept going.
For anyone who's ever been erased, misunderstood, or scared of what telling the truth might cost them. This book is proof you can lose everything and still come back stronger.
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10. Three of my therapists read it—and only one loved it 🙂
Yep. I gave the manuscript to three different therapists over the years. One was confused, one was concerned (her word, not mine), and one? One said it was “raw, gripping, and strangely beautiful.”
She got it.
She saw the meaning behind the mess.
She said, “You’re not just telling on yourself—you’re healing out loud.”
And that’s exactly what I hoped someone would see.
The book isn’t clean. It’s not always flattering.
But it’s true.