Jurassic Florida by Hunter Shea
Dear Diary, I bought this book 8 hours ago, it is now 6 in the morning, and this is precisely why I should never buy a Hunter Shea book when I have work tomorrow. Ever. I’m happy, but work’s not. #grin
The plot is the plot, and I won’t cover it, except to say that because the fundamental setup is not overly complex—and does not need to be—I was impressed by Hunter’s practiced hand from line one… because Hunter gets this party started in pages, not chapters. Impressive, because the stakes and pace do not take a single breath once the ball is rolling.
This is unrepentant beach reading at its finest: suspend the disbelief, pack some eye drops, and tape your fingertips, because there is no fat to trim here, and there are a wide variety of well-drawn characters to put your skin in their game… and, as I noted before, there is no respite from the onslaught(er).
Finishing this, I tried to think of another living author who can match Hunter in this niche, with this tone. I could not. Jurassic Florida reads easily, is very fast-paced, funny, gory, and has just the right touch of campy self-awareness. Oh, and anyone who thinks “reads easily” and “easy to write” are the same thing is bonkers—it’s shocking how wonderfully lean and efficient this book is throughout.