So They Say...

a selection of REVIEWS from those who write about what they read...

—Kirkus Reviews: Losing Big in Vegas.

Lyda Sue tumbles from a helicopter and splatters in a lagoon meant to attract high rollers, greedy tourists and lesser fry to one of Vegas's premier casinos. Lucky O'Toole, head of customer relations (that is, troubleshooter) for the Babylon, has her hands full trying to find out whether Lyda Sue jumped or was pushed, who else was on board and where Willie the Weasel, the pilot, can be found—all while readying the glitzy hotel for a swingers convention and containing/promoting the raciness that accompanies the porno stars congregating for their annual awards show. The Babylon's owner, affectionately referred to as The Big Boss, is a former mobster now pulled toward decency by corporate demands, although his relationship with Lyda Sue suggests that he may have continued to entertain errant thoughts. Lucky's mom Mona, owner of Nevada's best-known bordello, drops a clue or two, and Lucky's best friend Teddie, a straight Harvard MBA now starring in the Babylon lounge as a female impersonator, offers the sort of help only he can offer by slipping into Lucky's Manolo Blahniks and a little peach silk number. The Gaming Control Board sends in an undercover agent, who, alas, will become a major suspect before Lucky sorts through murder, blackmail, family secrets and the complications of falling for a guy who looks great in her clothes.

Deliciously raunchy, with humorous takes on sexual proclivities, Vegas glitz and love, though Agatha Christie is probably spinning in her grave.

 

—Booklist: Wanna Get Lucky?

Coonts, who lives in Las Vegas, takes full advantage of the mecca’s naughty rep, giving it a comical twist or two that’s occasionally laugh-out-loud funny. Thirtysomething casino exec Lucky O’Toole, the self-made daughter of a celebrated madame, is a tough, smart, wisecracking adrenaline junkie, whose energy matches the eye-popping glitz and frenetic pace of the casino business. Unfortunately, while she is exceptionally good at solving the casino’s problems without judging the proclivities of its customers, she has a serious lack of personal life. Then murder, blackmail, and some business finagling give her the chance to use her mean right cross, and some tantalizing new opportunities for romance allow her to reevaluate her priorities and get her raging libido under control. Complete with designer duds, porn conventions, partner-swapping parties, and clever repartee, this is chick-lit gone wild and sexy, lightly wrapped in mystery and tied up with a brilliantly flashing neon bow. As the first in a series, Wanna Get Lucky? hits the proverbial jackpot. —Stephanie Zvirin

 

—New York Times Book Review: Beauty Among Beasts

For mystery readers, every book is a beach book and every day is a beach day. But even genre novels present a variety of escapist choices.

I don’t know about you, but mysteries that make me laugh go right into the book bag. And Deborah Coonts makes the cut with WANNA GET LUCKY? (Forge/Tom Doherty, $24.99), set at the Babylon Hotel, “the newest, most over-the-top megacasino/resort on the Las Vegas Strip.” The story opens with the gaudy death of a woman who falls out of one of the hotel’s private helicopters, landing in the lagoon in front of the Treasure Island Hotel and “disrupting the 8:30 p.m. pirate show.” But not even death-by-helicopter-drop can compete with the porn industry’s Sex-a-Rama fair or the swinging Trendmakers party, with music provided by the Naked Mariachis.

Lucky O’Toole, the statuesque beauty in charge of customer relations for the Babylon, narrates the novel in a voice that aims for brittle sophistication but melts into girlish gush whenever she’s in the company of the sexy men in competition for her heart (and other body parts). No matter. Lucky has some nice things going for her, including a mother who operates Mona’s Place, held in high regard as “the best whorehouse in Nevada.” Blessed with the insight to find humor in the human condition, Lucky can also deal with 400-pound men of the cloth who pass out without benefit of cloth in a public stairway. Let’s just hope the job doesn’t wear her out. —Marilyn Stasio

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