I don't like for people to ask me personal questions, like where are you from, where do you live, where do you work, are you married? When I have to respond, I tell the simple truth. I grew up in Podunk, Tennessee, joined the Army after graduation, now live in North Miami, tend bar for a living, and the right girl has not come along yet. Sounds dull, so most people lose interest. That is just fine with me, because the rest of the truth isn't the least bit dull. My name is Dallas Kincade, and I have this guy living with me, well, more like coexisting with me. He is really an alter ego that camps out back in the recesses of my mind and lives for one purpose, that purpose being to come out and give me a hand when I get in a spot of trouble. That doesn't sound too bad, except that the other Dallas has a single-minded tire-iron kind of mentality, thinks that every problem can be solved by committing mayhem on everyone in reach. Needless to say I try to keep my Demon in check. The best way to do that is to live a peaceful and uncomplicated life, one that keeps me as far away from trouble as I can get. Strange as it might seem, the best place for me to find that peace and quiet is on the back streets of society, tucked into that narrow lane of existence that divides the hard-working, law-abiding masses from the criminals and the mad dogs of the underworld. Unfortunately, fate considers peaceful and uncomplicated to be its mortal enemy, so it lobs trouble my way every chance it gets. And somehow there always seems to be a good looking woman involved. In this case, the woman's name is DeeDee Malone. We met at a party a few months ago, talked a while, became party-induced friends, and then we parted with the assumption that our paths would never cross again. But fate has other plans for Dallas Kincade and DeeDee Malone. It all started when I received a note from an old friend, Stanley Morrissey, who seemed to be in a spot of legal trouble down in Key West. Although I would rather pet a rabid skunk than get messed up in one of Stanley's capers, I felt obligated to go see what was going on. Turned out Stanley was charged with murdering a shipmate and two passengers on a charter boat out of Key West, but a high placed cop in the Key West PD was convinced that Stanley had been set up. To prove his theory, the cop needed someone to snoop around the water world of Key West to see what could be stirred up, and that someone was me. My cover was a 32 foot sailboat that had been confiscated from a drug suspect, and it would be all mine if my little team could find the real killers. So I ended up in an unlikely alliance with Bunning, the cop, DeeDee Malone the gal from the party, a hillbilly iceman named Bobby Ray Lewis, and a cathouse madam names Marilou Zirkle. To say this was an unusual group of characters would be an understatement, but we got the job done.