From Publishers Weekly
The "masculine pleasure principle" is supposed to rule the Los Angeles-based magazine
Ogle, a
Playboy imitator, but there's more goring than scoring in this hammy period thriller set in 1965 from Nero Wolfe Award-winner Lochte. After only a week on the job as an advertising promotions copywriter at
Ogle, Harry Trauble begins to realize just how dysfunctional the organization is when studly circulation director Nick Hobart is crushed to death by a statue of the magazine's mascot (a frog), which mysteriously tumbles off the building's facade. Amid already high levels of fear and paranoia afflicting the staff, Harry and his girlfriend, redhead receptionist Terry O'Mara, suspect Hobart's death was no accident-a suspicion confirmed as more bodies pile up. Lochte
(Sleeping Dog) strives for a style approximating the pulpiest of mid-'60s quickie paperbacks, but the combination of hackneyed dialogue, by-the-numbers plot twists, whimsical names (e.g., Florence Proneswagger), and characterization no deeper than a coat of cheap paint deflate the fun.
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
From Booklist
Things were different in the 1960s: love was freer, morals were looser, protests were hotter, and America hadn't yet matured into the cynical, embittered country it is today. But some things were the same: a young man starting at the bottom at a popular magazine (
Ogle, "Devoted to the Masculine Pleasure-Principle") could dream of rising through the ranks and making his own mark; greedy corporate bigwigs could conspire to milk their companies dry; and, for some people, the solution to a problem could be summed up with one word:
murder. Lochte's latest mystery is a splashy, sexy, swingin' adventure in which ad copywriter Harry Trauble plays amateur sleuth to find out who's killing off
Ogle's staff. Genre veteran Lochte delivers plenty of surprises and a lot of laughs along the way. Readers who enjoy mysteries set in the publishing world--for example, Donald Westlake's
Trust Me on This (1988), to which
Croaked! compares favorably--will get a big kick out of this one.
David PittCopyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved
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