This is a wonderful book that blends the mystique of New Orleans with the soul of an excellent mystery writer. There was even one point in the book that made me cry. Thank you for touching me in such a deep way Ms. Fennelly. I too understand the complexities of the wonderous NOLA having lived there myself.

Margo Fortier has come a long way since her days as a topless dancer in the French Quarter of New Orleans. She has been married for almost two decades to an out of the closet gay man, who is the head of an affluent family. Currently, Margo is the queen of the local gossip columnists, but would rather be part of the "real" news at the paper. Her chance to investigate a real case surfaces when an acquaintance, the renowned psychic Mystic Delphine is found murdered. Margo sneaks into the case by pretending to be an investigative reporter. As Margo gets closer to uncovering the identity of the killer, she places herself in grave danger. Though she may ultimately solve the case, she may also find herself with no time to rejoice because the killer could easily target her next. 1-900-DEAD is an intriguing look at New Orleans through the off-beat eyes of marvelous Margo Fortier. She is clearly the show (sort of reminds this reviewer of Auntie Mame) that makes this novel work. The who-done-it is interesting, the support cast is fun, and New Orleans is always a pleasure, but to this book, as with its predecessor, Margo is everything. Harriet Klausner ---

Don't Blame the Snake was a fun mystery beginning with the prelude. From the moment a body is discovered in a New Orlean's hotel, with a rattle snake on the toilet seat the excitment begins. With most of the book set on a Mystery Cruise Ship, mystery readers will enjoy every word. You will also find yourself laughing out loud and remember, don't blame the snake!

Tony Fennelly is not merely an excellent mystery writer, but a sharp social satirist, as well. In fact, most of "Don't Blame the Snake", the latest Margo Fortier novel, is a distillation of the zeitgeist surrounding the O. J. Simpson trial married to a comical study of mystery conventions. The mystery itself, the identity of a murder suspect, is rarely discussed, though it hangs over the action like a dark cloud.

Instead of a standard whodunnit, Fennelly offers her readers something more, an examination of our own foibles and eccentricities, particularly those surrounding the dark days of the Simpson Trial. Her characters treat the televised event like a Roman Circus, a train wreck from which we cannot look away. It took me back, made me remember those freaky, surreal days. That the novel is set on a cruise ship only makes the passengers' obsession with the trial funnier.

Setting the action among the attendees of a mystery convention was also a stroke of genius. I got the impression Ms. Fennelly placed Margo and her husband, Julian, with the characters Fanny and Alice, two humorous and jaded midlist authors, as a way of expressing her own feelings about the world of publishers and writers. I especially enjoyed this insider's peek into the mysterious world of writers.

Another aspect I enjoyed was Ms. Fennelly's concept of "Fictional New Orleans", a place where it's always Mardi Gras, the residents are always in costume and the Cajuns speak in Parisian French. As authors setting books in Fictional New Orleans is a pet peeve of mine, I got a particular belly laugh from the exchange between Margo and Julian. Their snide but friendly interplay is always hilarious.

For the sake of mystery, Margo's pal, Lt. Frank Washington, is on board as a convention presenter. Before the cruise, Frank was investigating the death of a famous author by rattlesnake. While aboard, a publisher is also bitten by a snake. Coincidence? We think not. The best part of the mystery is that, this time, Margo isn't even TRYING to solve it. She just makes sense of the clues before anyone else.

One complaint I have: Frank Washington is friends with Margo Fortier and with Fennelly's other protagonist, Matty Sinclair, yet the subject never comes up. Matty is New Orleans society. Margo is a society columnist. They MUST know one another . . . It doesn't detract from the books, but it is curious.

As always, a new book by Tony Fennelly is an event to be celebrated by anyone who loves a sharp tongue, witty banter, and engaging characters. I recommend it highly and await the next installment.

This book is really pretty bad. It is so strangely gay that it almost comes off as being homophobic. For example: Matty (the detective) makes a point at the very begining of the book that he has never worn a dress ... yadda, yadda. But, he calls everyone dearie and sweetie and thinks he looks "scrumptious" in purple. Next thing you know he is bedding a woman (and suspect). She apparently is a "fall" and he has problems with how she dresses ... oh well. There is one section where he meets the father of the jailbait boy hooker he is living with that has to be read to be believed. Throughout it all he puts down other gay men for their age, weight, income, hang-outs .. whatever. Honestly, I don't think I've ever read a book with such an annoying lead character. Try the Nathan Aldyne mysteries instead for a good, humorous look at the gay 80's.

Though the opening murder is particularly gruesome (and will cause male readers to sit sidesaddle for the rest of the book)Tony Fennelly's first Matty Sinclair novel is a wonderwork of sly wit, clever plotting and early-eighties sexual freedom in the days before AIDS actually became old news.

Matty himself is the gay scion of an ancient New Orleans family who now runs an antique reproduction boutique. He is romantically entangled primarily with Robin, a fluffy-skulled youngster with no common sense and eyes only for Matty, but has occasional trysts with other characters throughout, both male and female. Matty, you see, is an opportunist.

The plot is fairly typical of gay fiction, in that the primary motive of the killer appears to be either a way to "out" his seemingly-straight victims or to exact revenge upon the vagaries of his or her own sexuality. Overall, the plotting is deft and entertaining, but it is Tony Fennelly's flights of fancy that makes this book such a page-turner; Matty's involvement with a beautiful, young, gay hitman for the mob, for example, is hilarious and lighthearted.

Here's hoping that a successful reprint of "The Glory Hole Murders" will prompt re-issues of the other two Matty Sinclair novels and/or a new installment altogether.