When Attorney Bobby Felton Frazier told the doctor why he had been shot, cut and scaled with hot grits all in the same day, the answer was complicated ... almost as complicated as his bizarre plan to escape from the backwoods Georgia marijuana plantation where the double-dealing, gun-running, pot-peddling, throat-slashing Honey Ho motorcycle gang is holding him prisoner. He needs to get out fast; before they feed him to their huge Red-Tail Boa Constrictor, and before they find out he’s not an attorney at all. If producing his own iconic version of Joe Millionaire with sweaty, hard-driving, three-hundred pound motorcycle brides will emancipate him from the grips of the reefer plantation and the belly of the snake, then lights, camera, action ... let the show begin. Baby, Put That Gun Down is a wacky, quick-humored roller coaster ride over the Georgia Pines, through the Louisiana Cajun-infested swamps, and into the awaiting arms of ill-tempered female gang members who might mow you down with an AK-47 or even worse, choke you to death with a yard of tongue. Of course, no hapless, Harley Davis scatter-brains are going to keep the manly duo of Attorney Frazier (Shaft’s daddy) and Dr. Hadley Peabody III (Shaft’s white step-daddy) from their shameless rendezvous with the A-list gold diggers awaiting them in New York and LA; that is, unless somebody does something stupid and falls in love; which brings us to the true essence of this hilarious journey. In the end, the story is about the awkward quest for companionship in a contemporary world of disappointing relationships, and the ultimate reward of finding love in the eye of the storm. Every reader that has loved and lost and even won in the eHarmony crapshoot called dating will see the flickering light of hope beckoning them to open their heart and climb aboard the old romance bus one more time.