Enhanced descriptions from Syndetics:
Recommended by NPR, Elle , Cosmopolitan , Entertainment Weekly , New York Magazine, New York Post , and Bustle
A gripping memoir of friendship with a tragic twist--two childhood best friends diverge as young adults, one woman is brutally murdered and the other is determined to uncover the truth about her wild and seductive friend.
As girls growing up in rural New Jersey in the late 1980s, Ashley and Carolyn had everything in common: two outsiders who loved spending afternoons exploring the woods. Only when the girls attended different high schools did they begin to grow apart. While Carolyn struggled to fit in, Ashley quickly became a hot girl: popular, extroverted, and sexually precocious.
After high school, Carolyn entered college in New York City and Ashley ended up in Los Angeles, where she quit school to work as a stripper and an escort, dating actors and older men, and experimenting with drugs. The last time Ashley visited New York, Carolyn was shocked by how the two friends had grown apart. One year later, Ashley was stabbed to death at age twenty-two in her Hollywood home.
The man who may have murdered Ashley--an alleged serial killer--now faces trial in Los Angeles. Carolyn Murnick traveled across the country to cover the case and learn more about her magnetic and tragic friend. Part coming-of-age story, part true-crime mystery, The Hot One is a behind-the-scenes look at the drama of a trial and the poignancy of searching for the truth about a friend's truly horrifying murder.
Reviews provided by Syndetics
Library Journal Review
Murnick (online editor, New York magazine) and Ashley Ellerin were best friends in grade school, but their lives diverged when Murnick went to college and -Ellerin moved to L.A., dating movie stars (including Ashton Kutcher) and partying the night away. Ellerin's brutal murder in 2001 filled -Murnick with shock and guilt, and when, eight years later, a break in the cold case came, she used her journalism skills and contacts to try to get a handle on what had happened and how their lives could have turned out differently. Navigating the long, tedious, and unsatisfying process of the trial, Murnick also meditates on female friendship, its closeness and competitiveness, and how and why girls get pegged as "the smart one" and "the hot one," and how it can warp their lives. As the author struggles to understand Ellerin, she grieves the child she was and the woman she would never become. Seeking "closure" from the trial of the accused killer, she discovers "a verdict is certainly not the same as the truth." -VERDICT This fusion of memoir and procedural should be welcomed by readers of autobiography as well as true crime.-Deirdre Bray Root, MidPointe Lib. Syst., OH © Copyright 2017. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Booklist Review
In 2001, when Murnick, now an editor at New York, was in her early twenties, she learned that her childhood best friend, Ashley, had been stabbed to death in her Hollywood home. Murnick had last seen her friend alive a year earlier, when Ashley visited her in Manhattan for a somewhat strained weekend, in which the author felt their friendship flickering out. As the years passed, and Murnick grew into her career in journalism, thoughts of Ashley and what had been going on in her life, beyond her working in a strip club, which she told Murnick little about, increased and deepened. And so she begins to painstakingly follow the case its new developments, apprehended suspect, hearings, crime sites perpetually explaining her obsession as a need to know what happened to her friend. Including worthwhile consideration of how female victims are often blamed for their own attacks (the defense paints Ashley as a sexually active party girl to cast reasonable doubt on its client's guilt) and women's friendships in general, Murnick's memoir will shock and fascinate.--Bostrom, Annie Copyright 2017 Booklist
Kirkus Book Review
A New York media worker tries to comprehend a glamorous friend's murder.In her debut book, Murnick, an online editor at New York magazine, considers heady themes of sexuality, violence, and childhood loyalties. She writes in a breezy, flowing style that is observational yet inconsistent, at times parsing details with sharp terseness, elsewhere turning her consideration toward inward ruminations. She and Ashley, her best friend from suburban New Jersey, were already drifting apart when, in 2001, 21-year-old Murnick was shocked by news of Ashley's murder in Los Angeles, particularly since Ashley had revealed to the author her dabblings in the sex-and-drugs underground of LA celebrity culture. "Eight months later she was dead," writes Murnick, "and I was reading about it in the paper, trying to convince myself that it didn't matter to me as much as it did. I knew that I had just about let her go in the months leading up to things, and it was impossible to know if we would have found our way back together." The case was cold for years until the startling arrest of Michael Gargiulo, a neighbor and suspected serial killer. Linked by DNA evidence to at least two similar slayings, he'd ingratiated himself into Ashley's social circle by offering conveniently timed home repairs (Murnick's depiction of this provides an excellent guide to spotting sociopaths). The author attended the long pretrial hearings for the accused, meeting Ashley's still-mourning LA friends and reconstructing a fuller portrait of Ashley's "secret" life, which under scrutiny appeared both decadent and nave: "Ashley didn't deserve any of this. She had suddenly been made into a public figure for the worst possible reason." There are powerful vignettes throughout, as the author describes her encounters with figures ranging from the meditative defense attorney to jaded reality TV journalists, but since Gargiulo's trial has been delayed indefinitely, the narrative feels unresolved, with an increasing emphasis on inward observation. An original and engaging, if uneven, fusion of memoir and true-crime. Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.