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 Pineapple Grenade on sale Jan. 24, 2012 (Sneak peek below) Prologue A prosthetic leg with a Willie Nelson bumper sticker washed ashore on the beach, which meant it was Florida. Then it got weird. Homicide detectives would soon be stumped by the discovery of the so-called Hollow Man. Empty torso with no external wounds, like all his organs had been magically scooped out. Little progress was made in the case until a TV station began calling him the Jack-O'-Lantern Man, which immediately doubled the number of nicknames. But right now, the victim had yet to be found. In fact, he was still breathing. # # # A finger tapped a chin. "Should I kill the hostage back at our motel room?" Coleman stared at topless sunbathers and swigged a secret flask. "You never asked that question before." "I know." Serge looked at his sneakers. "But this would make four guys in the last two months. I wouldn't want to be accused of over-reacting." "I did notice you've been wasting a lot more dudes lately." "I blame my environment." Serge picked up piece of litter. "Oil spills in the gulf, foreclosed homes in Cape Coral, voting machines held together with paperclips, rising crime, falling landmarks, that structured-settlement asshole on TV yelling, 'It's my money and I want it now!'" "Who can take it?" said Coleman. "I live for Florida." Serge stuck the piece of trash in his pocket. "And she's been disintegrating for decades. I've tried sounding the alarm." "Remember the time you actually used a real alarm?" said Coleman. "That hand-held siren and a helmet with a revolving red light on top. Everyone scattered and screamed when you ran through." "They've become blind to the darkening spiral." "But it was a baby shower in a restaurant." "Because I care about future generations," said Serge. "If we don't act fast, they'll never know the majesty of this sacred place. But recently, the decline has accelerated far beyond anything I imaged possible, and the Florida of my youth may be gone in my own lifetime. I won't survive -- it's like oxygen to me." "Then what will happen?" "I could become unstable. So to keep pace with the deterioration, I'm forced to kill more of the fuck-heads who blight my fine state." He turned and looked at Coleman. "Is that selfish?" "I say the guy back in our room has it coming." Serge nodded. "And I respect your opinion because you smoke marijuana. You're chemically biased against violence and job applications." "I'm only against taking part. But I still like to watch." "Which? Murder or people working?" "Both." Coleman picked up a prosthetic leg and tucked it under his arm. They continued along the surf. "We need to get back to the motel and prep the patient," said Serge. "I'll call the county agricultural department to learn who handles bull semen." "What's jism have to do with croaking him?" "Ever make a jack-o'-lantern?"
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On sale Oct. 25
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Join Tim Dorsey for the first-ever  • The March 11-18 adventure will cap off his upcoming book tour for "Pineapple Grenade." • Special cocktail party and events with Tim all week • Port stops in Grand Cayman, Cozumel, Belize and Isla Roatan • A fundraiser organized and sponsored by the Friends of the St. Pete Beach Library • Refundable deposit must be received by Dec. 15 to secure current pricing As a "Serge Cruiser" you can attend an exclusive cocktail reception, four "at-sea" exciting programs, and the opportunity to accompany Tim on manic tours at all four ports. (Plus other onboard surprises) ... Join over a hundred like-minded readers for a week of mayhem and trivia  • Click here to register for the cruise with the Friends of the Library • Click here for the library web site (Friends info is down the right side)
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Gator A-Go-Go on sale in paperback Jan. 25
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