|Amber Lynn at 'Golden Goddesses' Book Launch|
Orange County, California generally conjures images prevalent in the popular TV show by the same name depicting affluent white privilege, texting teens languishing on perfectly groomed beaches ambivalent to the sun’s harmful rays while surfer boys gauge the wave action in anticipation of their next big adventure. Growing up in the OC for Laura Lynn Allen however, was anything but idyllic or opulent. After her parents’ complicated break-up at age three, Lynn was placed in foster care for a period of four years at which time her mother convalesced in a hospital following a mental breakdown. Tragically, at age seven and shortly after Lynn finally left her foster home, her mother was killed in an automobile accident leaving Laura to be placed under adoptive guardianship.
As she grew into an attractive young woman, Lynn took advantage of the omnipresent sunshine and mild temperatures offered by the allure of the Orange County coastline. With her ultra tanned skin, precocious sex appeal, and bleach blonde hair, Amber set her sights on a modeling contract while destiny seemed to be in her corner in 1983 when she crossed paths with Althea Flynt, wife of the magazine mogul, Larry Flynt at one of West Hollywood’s prestigious nightclubs.
After modeling for Hustler and Penthouse, the natural next step was a meeting with the successful west coast director, Bobby Hollander. Hollander cast Lynn in her first film Personal Touch 111 (1983) with Bunny Bleu and Lisa DeLeeuw.
“When I got out of the [foster] home and went back to my mother, within that year of returning home, my mother was killed in a car accident in front of me. My life was spared because I was thrown from the car. I was seconds and inches from dying and I witnessed my mother’s death. I was almost decapitated in the car. This all happened by the time I was seven and a half years old. I suffer from PTSD and there was a kind of a huge splitting in my childhood. That’s what children do when they suffer from traumatic events because they are too young to interpret. They split so that they don’t go into shock. I didn’t find this out until years later in therapy and I was able to leave myself to create a character and be someone completely different. Now in my mid-forties when I look back at it squarely, even with all of the recovery, it’s still huge. In my memory, I had a short relationship with my mother, but a few things my mother had said to me always stuck. Her words formed me on the very little information that mattered. My mother was a Lithuanian Jew. She had wanted me to marry once and she wanted me to be a wife before I was a mother. On these little things, I rely.”