What would Stephen Tyler do?
Mickey, an ex-adult movie star turned supermodel, has to choose between two Johnsons—should he align himself with fashion icon Paul Johnson, the cigar smoking, micromanaging, chainsaw wielding megalomaniac, or Sandy Johnson, the flamboyant, murderous, vindictive narcissist? Which designer can propel Mickey to the top of Seventh Avenue? While trying to land his dream runway job, Mickey is thrown into the center of a scene where sex is often the motivation, the wine is served by year, and cocaine is back in full force.
A runway exhibition has been scheduled to determine who—Paul or Sandy—is truly the best Johnson. Mickey will be Paul’s top model, and Sandy has found a homeless person nicknamed Kung Fu Master to showcase his line.
In addition to getting his new line in place, Paul Johnson is also buying chain saws—the louder the better—to put the special in this special event. Did you know that you can’t be sentenced to prison if you are actively seeking help at a mental facility? Paul Johnson knows this.
Somewhere between the girls, counting Vicodin pills, and preparing for this runway extravaganza, Mickey develops a conscience. He believes (and his psychiatrist agrees) that he has the power to change what’s happening around him. Is there anything Mickey can do to derail the epic showdown between fashion’s two most powerful Johnsons before anyone else ends up dead?
In a world where this year is the new last year and cocaine is the new cocaine, blood is the new red.
First off, and this is my issue, but this is written in present tense. Present tense drives me nuts. But I’m a writer and honestly, average readers probably won’t even notice, so don’t let that deter you either, unless you hate present tense like I do.
Second, if you have delicate sensibilities, Do. Not. Read. This. Book. There is drug and alcohol abuse and lots of adult sexual situations. This whole book has sort of a macabre and irreverent attitude toward the fashion industry and party scene. If you take it for what it is, it’s a quick read that makes you cringe in horror at the actions of the main character who is a model and former porn star. He does lines of cocaine off of women’s breasts, pops Vicodin like it’s candy and engages casual sex with random girls, including a few playboy bunnies.
I’ve read Chuck Palahnuik and this contains similar shock value. The story telling style reminds me of a graphic novel. Personally, I wasn’t a huge fan. The story was predictable. I was expecting a murder mystery and it was not and I felt like all of the outrageous situations the main character found himself in were over the top.
Basically, if you would like a read that isn’t though provoking but a little shocking and you don’t mind drugs, sex and violence and a tongue in cheek look at fashionistas, pick it up. Otherwise? Meh. On the plus side it looks like Grant had it edited and I didn’t find any of the spelling or grammar errors that other reviews slammed him for.