Inside Black Hollywood saw release in 1980. Though it's an autobiographical novel detailing Carol's experiences while working on The Mack, Carol wrote the book under the pseudonym "Dorothy Jean Dickerson." Essentially, all names were changed to protect the (not-so) innocent. The following edited excerpt is taken from chapter 28, and it describes the love scene near the beginning of The Mack.

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When I walked out of the bathroom, I could feel the excitement of the crew as every eye burned through my towel, longing to see what it covered. I deliberately walked slowly over to the bed, turned a corner of the spread down and provocatively slid beneath it as I pulled the towel off.

Henry got into bed with a smile, he too, dropping his towel only after covering himself with the spread. Mark (the director) joined us, sitting down at the bottom of the bed.

"Dorothy, I want you to pretend there's absolutely no one in this room but you and Henry." His eyebrows knitted together. "Now, I want this played like you've just finished a climax. You know, you're kissing and love-playing afterwards."

I smiled. "All right, Mark."

Henry squirmed impatiently. "I can take care of it, man."

I know you will," Mark said good naturedly. He got up and took his place behind the camera. Henry and I started kissing to get in the mood for the scene.

"You have a nice body, lady." Henry whispered in my ear.

"Thank you and you kiss nice."

Henry kissed me again, wet and passionately, and then touched my breast under the covers. It sent a shiver down my spine.

"Now remember," Mark said slowly, "On action, you're kissing and love-playing. Are you ready?"

I sat up abruptly, holding the covers up to my breasts. "Mark! You didn't tell me what scene we're shooting!"

"Top of forty-two where you tell him how you can teach him to be a pimp."

I slip back down between the covers and Henry began methodically massaging my stomach. It made me hot.

"Action," Mark said softly.

Henry stuck his tongue in my mouth.

"Okay, cut! Dorothy, what happened to your opening lines?"

"It's Henry's fault! You don't know what he's doing under the covers!" I sighed, exasperated.

"Oh, I have an idea." Mark grinned.

"You want to stay in character, don't you, Dorothy?"

"Okay, but cool it a little bit. I'm high and I'm still a woman."

"That you are, Dorothy Jean!" And he quickly moved his hand between my legs.

"HENRY! Mark, he's at his tricks again!"

Mark motioned for me to be quiet. "It'll make the scene better. All right, action!"

The two scenes ran beautifully. Henry played well off me.

"Dorothy Jean, we should finish this tonight." Henry wanted to have sex, not play at it.

"I can't. I have a date tonight." I knew I didn't want Henry; it was just the excitement of the scene.

"It's guaranteed to be better than just touching." He sucked the lobe of my ear.

"I'm not doubting that, but I can't." I moved away from him and wrapped the towel around myself, getting out of bed. I walked to the bathroom and lit a joint Mark had handed me earlier. I had to stay turned on.

In the following shot, Henry and I had to get out of bed. I had the towel just below my breasts. I could hear the heavy breathing of the crew members as they watched me walk across the room. The room was cool, and I could feel the goose bumps stand out along my exposed back.

The final scene Mark had blocked off in the bed. I was feeling very confident and vain and allowed the covers to slip down, revealing my nipples.

"You better cover yourself, girl," Henry suggested, pulling the covers over me.

"Why?" I pulled them back down.

"Okay." He gave me an angry look. I knew he was afraid I'd steal the scene from him.

I gave that scene everything I had, as much warmth and depth as I had in me. When Mark yelled, "Wrap!" he was in tears. He ran over to me. "Dorothy, you were beautiful." The entire crew came over to congratulate me on a fine performance.

Henry was sulking. "Yeah, you peed, Miss Dickerson! But you're gonna find some disappointments when they do the editing." Henry couldn't stand being out-classed. How could he expect me to want him when he was acting so small, I wondered.

"Whatever, Henry." I thanked the crew, threw my robe around me and left to meet Fred ....

Carol Speed, 1980