By Sheila Weller. The victim-blaming (and incorrect punctuation, not for nothing) is underway by page 13, although I have to wonder if anyone else even read that far; the "exclusive personal photographs" are right at the front of the book. This one felt and still feels like one of the more cynical attempts to capitalize on the case, but as an example of how thoroughly this case's subplots dominated publishing in the mid-'90s, it has its value.
This paperback is a frumpy but readable copy: a cracked spine with a slight lean; edgewear; quite toned pages and some marks/soiling to the edges; stamp from a previous stop inside the cover. Fine to read, fine to recycle afterwards.