The love killers

This is a Jackie Collins book I missed coming up in my teens, that I only discovered at age 40. At some point in its life it was renamed/rebranded as The Love Killers, but I was able to cop an OG copy and well, it was damn good, and honestly, even better than that. Now for all you readers out there that know Muvah Collins as the queen of sex and raunch, this book ain’t it. In fact I will fucking tell you right now this is as close to indie crime fiction fest in the belly of the grime and urban noir side of things that she ever nosedived into, and a hell of a lot more realistic than the cheezy soap opera style commercial crime Italian mob fiction of the Santangelo series. This is more of a novella than a novel, just a bit bigger than The Bitch or The Stud, but nowhere as epically meaty as Chances.