I actually read about half of this, and it was pretty good. It was obvious the author had a huge ax to grind against Andy and the circle, but I have to admit this doesn't bother me too much because I'm a Warhol skeptic, not so much about the art, which is considerable and worthy (for the most part), but for the whole vacuous bohemian scene and fawning that went on. Warhol strikes me as a cipher, although he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut most of the time and let everyone else write on the slate. The Warhol phenom is, in some ways, most fascinating as a study of how the public reacts to an artist and his movement.
There should be books, pro and con, about artists, because there are always opposing camps and somewhere in the middle of the two lies the truth. There are plenty of books, for instance, that portray Orson Welles as a poor victim of the system, an artist robbed of his vision by commercial forces. And yet, I would recommend Charles Higham's bio of Welles, which takes an opposite view: that Welles' own ego and poor judgement led to his decline. Great artists can stand up to the scrutiny. (It's usually the sycophants who can't).