Product Description

A New York Times Bestselling Author

Kinky Friedman has always proven himself to be a master of the offbeat and irreverent, and still manages to pull off a helluva whodunit in the process. Now the Kinkster may have met his match in this superbly crafted, fiendishly clever tale of a murderer who's methodically killing off unsuspecting Manhattan men. Gallingly, all clues point toward Kinky.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #2798675 in Books
• Published on: 2005-08-24
• Format: Large Print
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Hardcover
• 271 pages

From Publishers Weekly
Friedman's comic, semi-autobiographical mystery series apparently comes to an end with this downbeat 18th entry, which, like 2004's The Prisoner of Vandam Street, is suffused with melancholy and loss. Friedman-the-detective is suffering from the disappearance of a close, longtime companion—his cat. When he decides to leave New York City for Texas to escape the doldrums, he's tracked down by a regular nemesis from the NYPD, Det. Sgt. Mort Cooperman, after the wallet of a murder victim, possibly the fourth in a series, turns up in Kinky's apartment. Four more murders occur, with clues again pointing to Friedman once he returns to the Big Apple. While the circle of suspects seems to be limited to his closest associates, suspense is lessened by the unlikelihood that a member of his Village Irregulars has suddenly been transformed into a psychopath. The depressing ending may disappoint some fans expecting the series' trademark laugh-out-loud humor stemming from Friedman's uniquely wry and twisted narrative voice. One can only hope that the author will soon apply his considerable gifts for creating colorful characters and amusing situations to a new series.
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

From Booklist
An ominous prologue commences this new mystery starring Kinky Friedman as the potty-mouthed private investigator. Referring to Kinky in the past tense, Ratso, one of the Village Irregulars and a would-be Watson to Kinky's Sherlock, begins with the revelation that this, Kinky's seventeenth adventure, will be his final exploit. When the wallet of one of the victims of a series of seemingly unrelated murders turns up in his apartment, the Kinkster is implicated, especially after clues left at the scene of the various crimes reveal that either the killer is the Kinkster or is someone with considerable knowledge of his habits and music. Never known for his love of humanity, the Kinkster is even more morose than usual, though he does show a bit of empathy by pondering the real-life case of Max Soffar, a prisoner on death row in Texas. Will this be the Kinkster's last case? It's hard to say, although, Friedman, like Arthur Conan Doyle before him, may have grown tired of his own creation. Benjamin Segedin
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved

Review
"Rollicking...any reader who fails to have fun probably has 'a brain about the size of a small Welsh mining town.'" -- The New York Times Book Review

Customer Reviews

The ultimate Kinky Friedman mystery
The Kinkster is having a really bad patch. Losing his cat has sent him into a sliding depression. He doesn't care about much of anything. Out of concern for his mental health, his friends convince him that maybe he needs a vacation. After all, he has no cases, no cat, not even the lesbian dance class upstairs that historically provided at least something to gripe about. To Kinky, his life feels empty and he needs rejuvenation before he makes good on his suicide threat. So off he flies to Texas, to visit the Friedmans, happily communing with the four-legged ones at the family ranch.

Unfortunately, his respite doesn't last long. A few short mornings after his arrival, he answers the "blower" and discovers Sgt. Cooperman of the NYPD on the other end, demanding that he return to the Big Apple to explain a dead man's wallet in Kinky's apartment.

The good news is that, after submitting to the cops' interviews, he is still allowed to walk out of the police station unshackled. But four --- or is it five now --- bodies have shown up in the Village, and they just keep mounting. Beginning his own investigation into the murders not only serves as a self-defense against the growing suspicions of the police, but also gives him a case to work on. This might just save his life --- if, that is, he can stay out of jail.

Kinky's inquiries turn up some bizarre stuff, but no solid clues. "Now it truly was a ship of fools, I thought. Here were Ratso and I, playing at being Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson, interviewing this Harry Felcher person, who was, to put it kindly, playing at being Judy Garland. Maybe none of us were playing at all. Maybe this was life and life only. Maybe the only thing that was real was the guy who had died in this building." His footwork, however, does set him off in the right direction and he soon formulates a theory, one that disturbs him a great deal. Even Kinky has trouble believing the conclusion to which his investigation leads him.

Every Kinky Friedman book has a deliciously irreverent tone. Each novel involves a new --- and occasionally absurd --- adventure, with a cast of characters even Seinfeld's producers would envy: Ratso, Rambam, McGovern, the cat, the puppethead and, last but not least, the lesbian dance class. Kinky, the author, always packs loads of fun into the space between the covers. This time, though, he has a little surprise for his readers. Okay, a big surprise. Be ready: TEN LITTLE NEW YORKERS ends spectacularly. For Kinky newcomers, read every one of his books, quickly, then grab this one. For die-hard Kinky fans (is there any other kind?), this is not just a must-read --- it's an absolutely-no-kidding-you've-really-gotta-read-it read.

--- Reviewed by Kate Ayers

Please, Kinky, don't stop now!
In what our "master of destinies", and the true master of metaphors calls his last go at the murder mystery genre in favor of an opportunity to save the state of Texas from the traditional empty suits that call themselves "public servants", Kinky Friedman has crafted one of the most entertaining reads of his or anyone elses writing career. Ten Little New Yorkers has everything we have come to love and look forward to in a Kinky novel and much, much more.

It is a page turner in the truest tradition. One is drawn in at once, and happily trapped in Kinkyland the entire literary trip. It is at once poignant with Kinky's own brand of life's lessons, and at the same time crazy enough to hold the interest of the most discerning reader. His genius is as always his wordcraft, and a use of the language that will never be duplicated. There is a warmth in Kinky's prose that grabs you, and makes you think about where you are in your own life, where you've been, and where you are going. Where I'm going now is back to re-read this wonderful, thoughtful, and fascinating book.

Buy it. Treasure it. But don't share it with your friends. That would't exactly be a financial pleasure for the Kinkster!

On with the campaign! Good luck, Kinky, the state of Texas is way overdue for someone of your insight, and a common sense approach to government that would blow a refreshing breath of fresh air into those stale back rooms replete with political doldrums...and thoughtless dolts. Thank you.

Butch Huff

The Cat Is Gone
I first saw Kinky Friedman on the Box in connection with his political ambitions in Texas. Imagine my surprise when I accidentally find some novels by the said Kinkster, and not just one or two. Any novelist described as "politically incorrect" has to be worth a try, and "Ten Little New Yorkers" was the choice.

The main character, (Kinky himself, no less), gets sucked into a bizarre case in which he is among the suspects for some brutal murders that have a sense of sickening creativity about them. Of course, like all things, the timing of it totally sucks. Kinky had left New York for a relax in Texas, only to get called back by the police, and his cat had also gone. Throw in some healthy doses of Kinky's wisdom and observations on just about every facet in life, (including taking a dump), and you have the makings of a quirky and entertaining read.

Kinky's turn of phrase is something that stood out to me personally, adding a sense of charm to his style of writing. At times, it was a bit taxing on the brain, (neither being Texan nor having set foot inside the USA), but overall I found it manageable. In fact, I learned a few new words, which is always good thing.

To sum up, I would have to say this was a good introduction to the world of Kinky Friedman. I like his style, and the story itself was good too. Not too cerebral, but enough meat to keep one lightly entertained. However, lightly entertained is about where it ends. For serious crime buffs, this will probably not hold its own against meatier authors. But it is fun, that is for sure.