“A brilliantly prophetic and modern tale of the macabre . . . A novel that roars across the intersection of Bret Easton Ellis’s American Psycho and Tom Wolfe’s The Bonfire of the Vanities.” —James Wolcott, Vanity Fair columnist
Unleashing the pent-up fury most Americans feel over the financial crisis, Brenda Cullerton’s wickedly riotous tale of an interior “desecrator” turned murderess is a flaming arrow into the dark heart of Manhattan’s filthy rich.
Working on New York’s Upper East Side for phenomenally rich and frighteningly skinny women who are suffering from BBS (Birkin Bag Syndrome—a muscle ailment due to carrying heavy pocketbooks) has driven interior designer Charlotte Wolfe mad. It seems to her that the insatiable pursuit of luxury breeds monsters. She gets even angrier when she begins to encounter the same thing over and over again: these women are so cheap they go on Craigslist to sell things their husband kept from wife number one.
As the financial crisis escalates and Charlotte’s own resources dwindle, her rage leads her to not only bite the well-manicured hands that feed her, but to do something more—to really clean house. A razor-sharp satire that’s both laugh-out-loud funny and edge-of-your-seat suspenseful, The Craigslist Murders will inspire readers to cheer an unlikely heroine, whose nightmares are the stuff of a poor person’s dreams.
I received a free digital copy through Net Galley.
"Charlotte had been getting away with murder for years." That's the opening line of this book, and it successfully drew me in. Then I met Charlotte: a woman just as shallow and whiny as the women she loathes! I wanted to like this one; I really did. But that just didn't happen. I was expecting a fun read with some dark humor, but all I got was a self-absorbed, interior decorator irritating the heck out of me for 200+ pages. Even after her "breakthrough" with her therapist, I just could not bring myself to care about Charlotte or her terrible past. I can't honestly recommend this book, but I'm sure someone out there may enjoy it more than I did.
