This new thriller is so high concept that it might just give readers a nosebleed: picture Colin Powell meeting O.J. Simpson on the brink of nuclear war. Richard Whelan, the national security adviser, is the highest-ranking African-American in the administration of President Edgar Roswell. Following his white lover, Mary Jacobs, home from a party where they've had a loud argument, Whelan is pulled over by two white cops in an unmarked car, who proceed to insult and pistol-whip him. Then, at Mary's apartment, Whelan enters to find her dead body. He calls 911 on his cell phone, reports the killing, then gets a call from the White House summoning him to an urgent meeting. Does he say, "I'll be there as soon as I've convinced the cops that I didn't kill my girlfriend?" Not a chance: in the first of many jaw-dropping lapses of sense, Whelan rushes back to the Situation Room, where he learns that India has dropped a neutron bomb on Pakistani troops in Kashmir. As one character says to Whelan, "What I don't see is how all this fits in with your girlfriend's death." Can it have something to do with Mary Jacobs's father funneling dirty money to both President Roswell and the CIA? Will Whelan's smart friend Bettina at the State Department be able to get into his White House computer before severe blowback "It's what happens when the repercussions of one action spin out of control," says the CIA chief? And has Denzel Washington or Samuel L. Jackson already signed to play Whelan in the film version of this highly unlikely but thrillingly fast-paced adventure? Author appearances in New York City and Washington, D.C.
Copyright 2001 Cahners Business Information, Inc.
From Booklist
Richard Whelan is the National Security Advisor to the president of the U.S. He's also on the run, framed for a murder he didn't commit. As if that weren't enough, Whelan--if he can stay alive and out of jail--is the only person capable of stopping a nuclear detonation that threatens to destroy a large chunk of the world. This fastpaced thriller will appeal to readers who value excitement above all else. Its dialogue is sometimes clunky, its storytelling overly slick, its characters rudimentary, but somehow none of that seems to matter. The novel succeeds on pure narrative adrenalin, piling on the action until we hardly notice that we can't remember the names of most of the supporting players, let alone what they look like. As a craftsman, author Fullilove is a notch or two below such midrange genre names as James Grippando or Ken Goddard, but anyone who can do action the way he can has the potential to be a contender. David Pitt
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved
See all Editorial Reviews
