Ronald, a doctor, and his wife, Susan, are enjoying an idyllic life with their children and their beautiful house, having conversations about art and God and the joys of being a family. They’re both fantastically attractive, and they have plenty of sex. But all this changes when terrorists blow up Ronald’s house, killing everyone but him. Twenty years later, he discovers that a man named Lot Angret is the one responsible for the attack, and when Angret appears in his office for an appointment, Ronald is swept up into a world of international intrigue, complete with politicians, drug dealers, organ traffickers and an abundance of beautiful women ready to partake in illicit affairs. Many different characters come into play, and plots that seemed important in the beginning give way to surprising developments as the web of crime unfurls. The description-heavy narrative plays plenty of attention to bodies, clothes, exotic locales and architecture. More often than not, however, dialogue is wooden and unnatural; when Ronald wakes up in a hospital in the opening, he inquires about his family and is told, “They are all dead, including the personnel working in the house and your dog.” The plot is intriguing, even when the author’s hand appears. The novel works best when not trying to be profound or dramatic—that is, when it knows it’s a fun piece of escapism. Salacious fun is here; it’s when the story tries to probe deeper questions that it falls short.
A sexy thriller that sometimes takes itself too seriously.