For forty years I’d been driving across Florida, east to west, north to south, on back roads and highways and interstates. I’d always been fascinated by the wide open cattle land that occupies a great portion of inland Florida, but I’d never set a novel in that part of the state. I thought it was time.

In search for a subject, I came across a bit of Florida history that I found intriguing. Oil had once been discovered just a few dozen miles east of Ft. Myers. I drove over to see one of the last existing oil derricks, a little-visited monument in a little-visited park. My imagination started to kick in.

The other thing on my mind at that time was a hunting ranch I’d heard about from friends. Wild boars and other exotic game roamed the privately owned land that was leased out for “hunting” expeditions. Doesn’t sound very sporting to me, and the more I researched this, the uglier it looked. So I decided to see if I could put those two very different ideas together. Oil in Florida and a hunting ranch.

While tramping around the area I intended to write about, I discovered that there are an abundance of sink holes dotting the landscape. So add a third thing to my list of ingredients. Now, as usual, the next challenge was getting Thorn involved. I’d given Thorn a lot of problems over the years, but giving him a vast sum of money (something he had absolutely no use for) presented him with a whole new level of danger. How does Thorn spend his fortune wisely? Answer: He doesn’t.