Loved the premise of this one -- a family of money launderers. And, this novel started with a bang. But, somewhere in the middle, it loses steam. Ultimately, I didn't finish this one.

This book started out great but did not sustain. Seldom has great potential as a literary crime author. The beginning of the book started out as a crime thriller andI was hooked. But then they got too be too much back and forth in time in connection epithet the narrative. One scene followed by another scene that took place a half hour early. And too many background digressions. The ironic thing is Selfon has it in him to be really good. I think his next book should be a bit more linear and focused.

Brooklyn artist Emil Scott has been supplementing his income running dirty money for a family of money launderers. He's been enjoying the gig. It's safer than peddling fentanyl, his former side hustle; his boss is a friend and also an aspiring artist; and the job gets him outside, where he marvels at the vibrant images everywhere around him.

But now Emil has disappeared, along with the $250K in drug money he was carrying. Suspects abound, from drug dealers to police officers, but the book's primary suspense is how the disappearance will affect the family of money launderers. And what a fascinating family they are!

Even if you have no interest in crime novels, this book is worth reading just to meet Shecky Keenan, head of the family, and his niece and nephew. Shecky is an indelible character -- clearly a crook but someone who loves his niece and nephew desperately, painfully, unwisely. Niece Kerasha is recently paroled, a thief and an addict trying to surface the want inside her that drives her to steal and use. And nephew Harry is the bagman, the muscle, who wants something more for himself, who cared blindly about Emil.

I was hoping for more detail about the money laundering and how the family evaded the many controls and restrictions on cleaning cash. (There's a throwaway comment about seeking out banks that don't check ID and post offices that rubber-stamp money orders, which seemed like a cop out.) The probable culprit was apparent early on, and some of the plot points and their reveal seemed strained. Though I appreciated the detailed backstory for all the characters, I got tired of people quoting Sophocles and Whitman and mooning about their artistic and acting ambitions.

Still, this is an accomplished and compelling debut novel, and I look forward to the next book by this author.

Many thanks to NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.