This is a wild-at-heart pinball machine of a novel, teeming with oddball kooks, crazies, and maniacs as they careen through Florida on a kaleidoscopic crime-and-violent-mayhem spree, with stops in Tampa, Palm Beach, Cocoa Beach, Miami Beach, Key West, and the Dry Tortugas.
Five million bucks in a suitcase dropped into the trunk of the wrong car, with a whole convoy of homicidal wackos in pursuit and every damn one of them stops in Miami to take in the last game of the World Series. The dumb bad guy is hooked on cocaine and cartoons; the smart one is obsessed with Sunshine State lore; the babe is a walking wet dream who's twice as deadly as the men. And get this: There are two good guys, and one of them is a lawyer.
This is Florida in all its decadence, corruption, dysfunction, cupidity, stupidity, and bizarro violence. But native Floridian Tim Dorsey still loves his home state - the pure Florida that hasn't been completely paved over - and he communicates his abiding passion for its beauty and history.