Lazar's (Normal Norman) hardboiled mystery is narrated by Private I, a pink capital letter who wears a striped tie and fedora, and gestures with white-gloved cartoon hands. His client is an agitated green number 6: "Word on the street is that 7 ate 9! And now he's after me!" "Stay here. I'll get to the root of this," says I. "I hope so," responds 6. "I fear my days are numbered." MacDonald's (Henry's Hand) nostalgic artwork fits the noirish setup to a T (so to speak), and his chunky letters and numbers, created using 19th-century wood type, make for an eye-catching and highly appealing cast. His city streets feature brick storefronts and aerodynamically contoured automobiles, and a slice of pi costs $3.14 at the local diner. The solution to the mystery is pretty clever, the pace is brisk, and the arithmetic jokes approach infinity ("I knew about this 7 fella," muses I. "He was odd"). Lazar's numbers game stands up to repeat readalouds, which allow readers to review each groaner of a pun. Ages 3-5. Author's agent: Ammi-Joan Paquette, Erin Murphy Literary. Illustrator's agent: Holly McGhee, Pippin Properties. (May) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.

This witty riff on the hardboiled-detective genre, featuring a lively, anthropomorphized letter and number cast (including the narrator, gumshoe Private I) and nearly nonstop puns, makes for a fun and entertaining tale. All begins when terrified 6 bursts into Private I's office, claiming, 7 is coming to get me. With streetwise cool, Private I tells readers, I knew about this 7 fella. He was odd. And, popping on a fedora, he promises to get to the root of this, first talking to 8 (who, he notes, is usually caught between 7 and 9) before questioning other witnesses, like B, the waitress at Café Uno (selling Pi for $3.14). Private I's account, rife with droll commentary and snappy dialogue is peppy, amusing reading, and Macdonald's animated illustrations, blending colored pencils, watercolors, and vintage typefaces, have 1940s-era retro flair, depicting the cartoon-ish characters with comically expressive faces and incorporating witty period details, such as rotary telephones and old-fashioned cars. Lazar's lively pace, sharp repartee, and abundant wordplay adds up to a tongue-in-cheek mystery perfect for the youngest amateur detectives.--Rosenfeld, Shelle Copyright 2017 Booklist

Pun fun reigns over this fast-paced whodunit.Private I of the Al F. Bet agency is at his desk when a frantic 6 races in. 7 is "after me," declares the distressed numeral. Answers Private I: "Well, technically, he's always after you." The detective, narrating his caper noir-style, dons his fedora and follows the numbers. The case is solved when he upends the evidence and proclaims that 6 is really 9. This is followed by very humorous and slightly philosophical analysis of numerical significances. Is being in "seventh heaven" better than having "NINE lives!" or not? Lazar's text is straight out of the classic detective genre, as are MacDonald's illustrations, which are a mix of colored pencil, watercolor, and 19th-century wood type, all composed in Photoshop. The scenes are clearly set in an old-time Manhattan, with the office, streets, and harbor reimagining movie sets straight out of the 1930s and '40s, albeit colorized. The oversized letters and numerals all have very entertaining faces and tiny protruding arms and legs that convey constant movement. The name of the detective agency is an adventure in pronunciation. Is it the English word "alphabet" or the Hebrew words for alphabet: "alef bet"? Counting has never been so mysterious or so much fun. (Picture book. 4-7) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

K-Gr 3-Private investigator Al F. Bet relates a recent case history-the mysterious disappearance of Number 9. It all starts with Client Number 6, who comes into the office visibly agitated about Number 7. Has shady 7 committed a horrific crime? Are his own days "numbered"? In search of some leads, the PI heads to Café Uno, and after interviewing a series of suspects and witnesses and having a generous serving of pi, he adds up the evidence in page after page of math-related wordplay. The intrepid investigator ignores all negatives, solving the mystery of the missing number by searching the streets and questioning a collection of verbose cartoon personalities (created digitally with Photoshop, colored pencil, and watercolor) featured prominently on the page. Readers will enjoy finding all of the math references hidden in the text and the art. The dialogue will gain appreciative groans up to the final moment, when Al is ready to resume his letter cases, because "they're A-OK in his book." VERDICT An A-1 purchase for those who love plays on words, mysteries, and humorous tales.-Mary Elam, Learning Media Services, Plano ISD, TX © Copyright 2017. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

CHILDREN'S PICTURE BOOKS are called picture books for a reason. The words are vital, of course, and they usually play an equal role, but the pictures pretty much always do the heavy lifting. In books where the words are understated or spare, the pictures are often overstated and elaborate. And then there are the wordless picture books, where the pictures don't even share the spotlight. In these five new picture books, the pictures are back at center stage, but the spotlight is on the words - or play of words. This subtle relationship shift has consequences. As the wordplay gets more complex, the pictures must exert more effort and ingenuity to make sense out of it. The result is uniquely offbeat, and wildly whimsical. Most kids are familiar with the cryptic question: "Why is 6 afraid of 7?" The answer is Tara Lazar's latest title: "7 Ate 9." Lazar has transformed this classic riddle into an improbable whodunit, featuring an all-star cast of large, brightly colored, walking, talking numbers. The pun-laden story, told in the voice of a hard-boiled private eye (played, naturally, by the letter I), involves the attention-seeking number 6 (a.k.a. The Client), who tries to pin a dreadful crime (cannibalism!) on the elusive number 9. Along the way there are supporting roles from Zero (shrewdly posing as an 8), and 11 (never far from 7) and ?, a waitress who serves pi. Yes, pi. If this seems a little complicated, well, it is, but in a stylish, film noir kind of way. Lazar's crisp, well-paced prose, combined with Ross MacDonald's dynamic illustrations, make the story a lot of fun to read, even if you have to backtrack to get your numbers straight. Think of it as a kid-friendly version of "The Maltese Falcon," only with larger than life-size numbers, and no cigarette smoke. In Susan Hood's "Double Take!" a boy, his cat and an elephant wander around the city, acting out the definitions of opposite words. It begins simply enough, with Jay Fleck's expert compositions showing the difference between left and right, asleep and awake. But soon the concept shifts, from basic opposites to explaining what makes an opposite an opposite. Scale, perspective and point of view all come into play. Hood's rhyming prose gradually builds to a scene of a wild roller coaster ride, where she asks the reader to "do a quick double take." Fleck's picture shows the cat tied to a helium balloon, but the cat is above and the balloon is below - a clue that proves that the right-side-up book is now upside down. It's a satisfying highlight to a stimulating book. Rebecca Van Slyke has created a brave young cowgirl/etymologist in "Lexie the Word Wrangler." Lexie lives "west of the Mississippi," where, along with corralling "cantankerous cattle," she can lasso words from thin air. It's a place where trees sprout "baby letters," which grow into multisyllabic words, which are tossed into stew pots and herded into sentences, which eventually become stories. In other words: an ideal location for a writer's retreat. However, all is not hunky-dory in this wordplay utopia. A "word rustler" is on the loose. He has removed the letter D from Lexie's "bandana," turning it - literally - into a "banana." Worse yet, an extra S has transformed the "desert" into a giant "dessert." Lexie must track down this scoundrel and "bring him to justice." Jessie Hartland's artwork is playful and bright, and she does a valiant job integrating the wacky wordplay with the plot. This isn't an edge-of-your-seat western, but the book is packed with puns, twists of words and vintage cowboy dialect kids will enjoy imitating. A similar rascal is at work in Bill Richardson's "The Alphabet Thief." This longnosed, masked bandit is on a nefarious mission, starting with the letter A. Following the logic of "Lexie," when a letter, like B, is stolen, "bowls" become "owls," "brats" are turned into "rats," and a dog named "Bill" becomes "ill." The story is told in brisk, rhyming stanzas, by a determined, redheaded sleuth. The wordplay is fun - a "chair" becomes "hair," a "fox" turns into an "ox" - though some examples are a visual stretch. Throughout, Roxanna Bikadoroff's lively spot illustrations deftly keep pace as the altered words pile up. In the end, the redhead prevails, with a unique weapon; a Y-shaped slingshot that fires Z's. Don't worry, there is no bloodshed. Just swift and punitive sleep. In Ivan Brunetti's "Wordplay," a schoolteacher assigns her class a homework assignment: to create a list of compound words. Somebody suggests "homesick," and a picture shows a sad-faced house with a thermometer in its mouth. "Housefly" is seen as a house with wings. One student, fittingly named Annemarie, becomes obsessed. She looks for compound words everywhere around her, even where they don't exist. Brunetti's use of simple, sequential cartoons turns this basic exercise into a brief, but delightful story. Each of these books, though different in style and sensibility, is designed to spark a curiosity in language. They prove that whether it's chasing after a riddle, stealing alphabet letters or defining an opposite, the picture book is an ideal stage for the play of words. ? JON AGEE is the author and illustrator of many picture books, including "Milo's Hat Trick" and "Terrific," which will both be reissued in September.

Your reviewers favorite riddle gets its possibilities exhausted in this shaggy-dog variant narrated by a gumshoe named Private I. A panicked 6 pays a visit to Is office after hearing that 7 ate 9. Now hes after me, says 6, and our laconic PI--yes, theres a joke about that, too--responds that technically, hes always after you but nevertheless promises his aid. The number jokes and puns are chased relentlessly through the story, aided by pictures that place the outsized numerals and letters, each personified via a little face and limbs, in the not-too-mean streets of an old-time big city. Its too silly to be numbers-noir, and the running joke is just stupid and sophisticated enough for the newly numerate to find the goings-on hilarious. You can count on it. roger sutton (c) Copyright 2017. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.