A hit on a notorious hip-hop star plunges Nina into the vortex of a violent power struggle to control a valuable commodity in the recording industry, namely black music.
If I could give this book negative stars, I would. It was terrible.
But if you like awkward names for genitals, chinese throwing stars, misleading rants about hip hop culture, calling sex the "okey-doke," arousal torture, and novels that seem to be written in day, you will love a Phat Death.
I was one of 4 people in my book club that could finish it. A Phat Death is better suited as a measure of how much torture one can take than as a mystery novel.
I challenge you to find a book with worse dialogue. For example:
"IT WAS ALWAYS ABOUT THE MONEY!" shouted my father. "It was always about the money! You're are all criminals. This generation, this so-called hip-hop generation, made it possible for dead men with phat catalogues to have more influence that those who are living! Imagine that!" "Radeem, this empire of yours is built on a throne of blood!" I shouted. "This isn't going to last! You may be the next one!" ...."Well, as Himmler once said, 'It is the curse of greatness that one must step over dead bodies to create new life."
The dialogue about sex is one thousand times worse. It was bad. Really bad. Don't buy it.
I leave you with Dead Prez' immortal lines:
Who shot Biggie Smalls? If we don't get'um they gonna get us all. I'm down for runnin up on them crackers in they city hall