I expected an interesting read. This poorly written piece of trash is filled with gratuitous sex, violence, torture and death. It appeals to the lowest instincts of men. It says nothing about the cultural clash of West and East, it's full of clichés. I stopped reading after about 100 pages and took a long shower to try and wash this book from my skin and my mind.
If you find this book, buy it and do humanity a favor, the same one I did: destroy it.

This book captures the essence of Lustbader. Tracy Richter encounters the deadliest antagonist ever portrayed in any of Lustbader's novels in his quest to unearth the facts surrounding the death of a presidential candidate. For any martial arts practitioner, I strongly recommend this book for the physical and spiritual aspects of the martial arts and the impact of these on the story line. "Black Heart" is much better than any of the Nicholas Linnear novels which are good in their own right. The character of Tracy Richter bears striking similarities to Nicholas Linnear but is a bit more human and fallible.

Although this book is classified as the 4th in the Sunset Warrior Cycle it does not involve the Dai San, other than loosely and briefly. The book is more an adventure of his sidekick, Moichi, on a dangerous detective mission with plenty of intrigue and mystery. It could almost be a link between Sunset Warrior and the Ninja series. The book was entertaining and kept me wanting for more. A good read, but don't expect it to be in any way a continuation of the third book, Dai San.

I can't imagine how such a thing could get printed. It is evidently a vehicle for portraying Lesbian love, with a few nods here and there to great art (brought in to validate the title, one presumes) plenty of four-letter words and allusions to The Mob, to make things move along. I checked the book out at my local library because of the quotations from reviews from "Kirkus Review," the "Los Angeles Times Book Review," etc. on the back cover, and all I can say is that the reviewers must have been describing some other book.

This review is submitted as a warning. The pretentiousness of Art Kills is exceeded only by its ineptness of execution. The characters became so ludicrous that my friends and I were laughing by the end and only wished that the main character was eliminated in the final bloodbath. There is now a danger of a sequel.