Gr 9 Up--Julian is floundering. Though he's the mayor's son, he's addicted to drugs, unwilling to get a job, and full of excuses. But after one binge too many, his sympathetic but codependent girlfriend Dana finally kicks him out. Left on his own with no money and nowhere to go, he decides to rob his dealer. Things go horribly wrong, and Julian has to face some frightening consequences. This straightforward tale is sympathetic yet never glamorizes addiction. Julian can see his issues, but since he doesn't believe they're his fault, he refuses to take responsibility. Julian's friends range from tolerant to completely frustrated, while Dana can't draw the line between being supportive and enabling. The decision to depict the characters as animals (Julian is catlike, while Dana appears to be a canine, though both are fairly ambiguous) will draw readers in, making it easier for them to see themselves or those they know in the story. Cartoonish, expressive black-and-white art is at its most powerful when showing characters under the influence and when portraying heightened emotions. VERDICT Though the book would benefit from the inclusion of addiction resources, the accessible story and strong art make it a poignant examination of the toll addiction takes, both on those who are addicted and those in their orbit.--Carla Riemer, Albany H.S., CA

The drug addiction, unemployment, homelessness, near death, and fractured search for self-worth of a deceptively cute comic cat. Julian (an anthropomorphized cat) is the son of a former two-term mayor, wearer of expensive shirts, and addict of his coffee-table drug buffet. After his levelheaded girlfriend kicks him out, Julian dredges his list of next-best friends hoping to find money, new digs, and someone who will understand why the world is against him. Though he hates his haters, he can't help but think that maybe there's some truth to what they're saying. Julian's interpretation of lemons to lemonade: steal a bag of drugs from his dealer and try to make a financial go of it without getting caught. Except he does. The panels per spread alternate from one per page to four, an intentionality of variation that keeps the visual narrative flowing. Close-ups have an ad campaign graphic quality to them (sharp and chic). Speech bubbles have easily digested text (even spacing, linear execution). An absence of scratchy texture to the art makes for a smooth, black-and-white creaminess that supports the seemingly innocuous world of adorable animal characters (you nearly forget you're witnessing weighty material like attempted murder, a dead drug dealer in hell, or two girlfriends getting drunk while bashing bad boyfriends). Puts the dark in comedy and sheds some light on an addict's circuitous path to uncertainty. (Graphic fiction. 14-18) Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.