Bobby Brown, the singer, dancer, and all-around amazing performer, first became famous at the age of fourteen as a part of the Boston group New Edition. But it was his solo career and the release of his 1988 album, Don't Be Cruel, with its chart-topping title track, as well as hit songs "My Prerogative" and "Every Little Step," that made him infamous. As he toured the world, wowing fans, scoring hit after hit, earning millions, Brown found himself the fodder of tabloids. When he married the most celebrated singer in the world at the time, pop princess Whitney Houston, he began a life under a microscope. The couple's every move was tracked, and jaw-dropping stories were told about drug addiction, physical violence, and worse, with Brown always cast as the villain. Forever branded, Brown was trapped in a spiral of rage against the media and drug addiction, fighting for the will to get himself clean and keep his family together. Now the man behind the misconceptions, rumors, and lies bares his soul. In this honest, raw, and at times heartbreaking account, Brown tells the truth of his life.

Every Little Step is the story of a kid growing up in the projects of Boston, always on the move and always looking for an audience. Brown reveals what really happened when he left New Edition to launch his solo career and tales of his relationships with some of the most prominent pop divas in the world, including intimate details of his marriage to Houston that describe the purity of their love and the devastation he felt as it crumbled. Most poignantly, he finally speaks about losing his beloved daughter Bobbi Kristina. And through it all, Brown shows himself to be a family man, devoted to his children and his wife; a man who cared for both of his parents right up until their deaths; and a man who can admit where he faltered, but had the strength to stand up again. I became famous with New Edition when I was just fourteen. As a solo artist, I released an album before my twentieth birthday that many have noted as altering the course of R & B music. In my twenties, I fell in love with the biggest music star on the planet. Our marriage kept more than a few gossip tabloids in business.

I am still trying to grapple with the incredible pain and trauma of losing my daughter. But despite my three decades in the harsh media glare, the public has never really heard my story. What Bobby Brown is thinking, what he's doing, what he did do, what he didn't do. Early on, I cemented my reputation as "the bad boy of R & B." And it stuck. But now that label feels too one-dimensional. I feel like I owe it to myself and the ones I love, and will always love, to be honest. I want to tell the real story.