Most people think of a world gone to hell in terms of famine in faraway Durfur, war in Iraq, and genocide in Rwanda. Not Charlotte Wolfe. For her, a Manhattan interior desecrator who is, happily, offing New York City trophy wives, that world gone to hell stretches from Bergdorf Goodman on 57th St. and Fifth Avenue, north to 96th St., across Madison to Park Avenue, and back down to 59th St. This is the Upper East Side, the richest, greediest 1.8 sq. miles in the United States. It is a world where women mistake trend for truth, fame for faith, and money for meaning. Here, where the insatiable pursuit of luxury square footage and perfect decor breeds monsters, Charlotte is not just biting the hands of the Botoxed, newly converted Buddhist women who feed her, she is murdering them. Cleaning house, she calls it.
As the real world continues to teeter on the brink of financial extinction, readers will applaud the efforts of this Pilates-pumped Crusader as she surfs through Craigslist, her online hunting ground, and rids the city of women whose only job in life is to amuse themselves to death.