Have we read Randy Wayne White before? You would think we would remember Doc Ford, the scientist with his considerable macho under sensitive restraint, but we’re not sure we have. We’ve read Hiaasen, of course, and McGee/McDonald and Leonard and Gruber while he was still doing those Miami steamers, but not White. Deep Shadow was our lone complete read. There were just too many distractions – Netflix finally releasing season 4 of MadMen, huge backlog of early Top Gear, the renaissance of Upstairs Downstairs. And we really shouldn’t even have been reading the White since we have that paid-for Tories on the Kindle, something to which we’re afraid we might never return, worthy though it may be. The White was ok, but a little earnest. Earnestness, in our (correct) opinion has no more place in Florida than in Italy. But we’ll try another in case he was just a little dyspeptic. We may have mentioned that we’re doing research for a crime discussion group this summer, so it’s ok for us to read during business hours. It’s not only ok, it’s hugely pleasurable.