Tim Doroey, author of the raucous, raw-edged, hilariously bent literary joy-ride, Florida Roadkill, now invites you back to his Sunshine State--not the tourist-mecca peneioner-paraclise the Chamber of Commerce would have you visit, but an Eden verdant with lost drug money; a center of lunatic, gravity, drawing fugitives, gangsters, losers, sociopaths and psychos of every flavor and degree to its tropic environs. And they all congregate in one sleazy, run-down motel perched on the Gulf of Mexico, just a short spitting distance from Tampa Bay.Every room in the Hammerhead Ranch is host to a different schemer or slimeball. The Diaz Boys--cocaine duckpins who have survived only by the dumbest of luck--are stuck there with ten thousand hot, zebra-striped beepers.
