The Literate Kitty

The more things change, the more they stay the same. Sounds like an oxymoron, doesn’t it? Sometimes, though, it makes total sense. Take, for instance, Las Vegas-native Lucky O’Toole’s equal parts charmed and cursed life. [If you haven’t been a party to her various Sin City exploits yet, then by all means dash on over to my earlier reviews, here , and go from the bottom post up, before reading any further.] Recently promoted to Vice President of Customer Relations--a euphemism for Problem Fixer Extraordinaire, which entails at least as many headaches as it sounds like--at the esteemed Babylon hotel, Lucky still has no “life” to speak of (unless your idea of such means “all work”, in which case she has it in spades). She races around the hotel (often on a pair of highly-unsuitable stiletto heels) putting out fires at all hours of the night and day--placating the occasional less-than-happy guests, unruffling disgruntled employee feathers, and juggling the needs of the various cont...

A vintage-attired, high-heel-clad little dynamo... a hunky ex-priest-cum-radio-personality superstar... a mysterious and rakish magician (in desperate need of finding his lost memories)... and one sleek-yet-stout, green-eyed, black-as-night feline... those four components can only mean one thing: it’s time for a return trip to Vegas, baby! Hold the phone--and pack an extra bag--though, because this time out Midnight Louie is up to more than just his usual Sin City sleuthing-and-shenanigans; in Cat in a White Tie and Tails , he manages to squeeze in a visit to the Windy City, as well. ~^.,.^~   ~^.,.^~   ~^.,.^~ When suddenly-in-demand radio star Matt Devine receives yet another all-expenses-paid trip to Chi-town--where a group of network bigwigs will again attempt to cajole him into accepting their offer for a major TV gig--it seems like the perfect opportunity to knock out a pair of birds with one stone; he can take Temple Barr--plucky Vegas hotel PR consultan...

Oh, to be one of those lucky ducks who gets all the “perks”... the to-die-for designer wardrobe (complete with smokin’ hot shoes and the coolest “it” bags)... the spacious high-rise apartment (with a stellar view)... 24/7 access to a stable of the hottest sports cars around... a choice of the finest cuisines and wines to be found... even rubbing elbows with the rich-and-famous on a regular basis. Pretty awesome, right?  Nothing comes without a price, though... something which no one is perhaps more aware of that than professional casino “fixer” Lucky O’Toole, back for equal parts fantastic fabulosity and treacherous troubles in author Deborah Coonts‘ latest, So Damn Lucky . (By the way, if you haven’t read the first two books in the series yet, you can find my reviews for them here  and then here .)                            ~  ♠  ♣  ♥  ♦  ~ Lucky’s typical day can best be summed ...

When an intriguingly delectable-sounding blend of mystery, sly humor, Vegas glitz, and cats ( yes, CATS, people! ) landed on my doorstep, it seemed like a no-brainer. There was, however, one small hitch: the book in question--Carole Nelson Douglas’ Cat in a Vegas Gold Vendetta --was actually the twenty-third in a long-running series... of which I’d read nary a one. (In fact, I possessed not even the vaguest general knowledge about it; no handy clues had ever seen fit to make their way into my subconscious via some sort of bookstore osmosis, sadly.) I would be a tabula rasa, trying to get caught up on all the important whos and whats in a hurry... and having nearly two dozen books’ worth of elapsed history to contend with was, frankly, more than a little daunting. Still, that “ But this is right down my alley! ” refrain kept playing in the back of my mind, so I decided there was nothing to lose... but potentially, a fun, new-to-me series to find.  ~^.,^~   ~^.,.^~   ~^....

A pair of sexy and highly-skilled grifters—fresh from their most-lucrative con job to date—decide to bow out at the top of their game, leaving behind all the glitz, glamour, and thrills in favor of a new pursuit: getting their own little piece of The American Dream (modest home and one-eared rescue dog, included). Meanwhile, their lovable-but-dim buddy—who wouldn’t know a successful scam if it walked up and slapped him upside the head (which is, by the way, totally likely)—gets a wild hare to try his luck in the art world... as an artist. (This, despite the fact that his friends know he can’t draw a straight line with a ruler.) The setting for their respective suburban dreams and grandiose schemes? Unassuming Santa Fe, New Mexico. (Yes, it’s a little, erm, off the beaten path--especially for anyone who isn’t from there—but you try finding a good place to “go straight” when you’ve been scamming your way along the West Coast and through the Southwest for the past several years, and... ...