If Dave Barry married Eoin Colfer and engaged Carl Hiaasen to be a surrogate mother, their progeny would mimic the characters in PEOPLE DIE IN SUNSHINE. Oh, grow up! Such things are possible in this zany glitzy-glamour murder tale of Miami’s über-rich and famous --- and infamous. Forget “Miami Vice” and cocaine cowboys. That’s sooo 1980s. This is the 21st-century version of multicultural Miami’s tawdry hyperbole.

The novel’s opening cuts to the chase: “Money. Money. Money. Money. Maybe because money, murder and Miami are such a true troika.”

Septuagenarian Frederick Rothenstein is the “patriarch of a real estate dynasty, massive even in Miami terms.” His wife is “Coco as she was called, given her obsession with all things Chanel.” They are found murdered in their 15,000-square-foot Silver Sands penthouse, “extremely high and sharp gold metal Manolo Blahnik Stilettos” protruding from his eye sockets.

"Gloria Nagy’s whimsical Sunshine State tale begs sunscreen factor as high as Miami’s August afternoon temperatures."

Edith Weller is the narrator and a character, and thus a suspect. She adopted days-old Sunny in China 15 years before. The pair is later adopted by octogenarian Ooma, who’d always relished having grandchildren. The mom-daughter duo now resides on the “cheap” third floor.

At age 88, basketball-player-height Ooma Lovee is “the Grande glamour dame of the Silver Sands,” and lives one floor below the Rothenstein penthouse. She too is a suspect --- as are the murdered couple’s adult progeny, Rebecca and Arnold. Actually, each resident in the lavish complex has motive to snuff out the Rothenstein regime, including Frederick’s…um, personal assistants. Very personal.

And then there’s former Miami-Dade detective and now Silver Sands head of security, Roy Rogers. Yep, he’s heard all the Trigger jokes. Knowing the condo’s security quirks, he’s recruited by former cop-partner Mikey Martinez to lead the homicide investigation. And Roy takes an interest in Edith, perhaps only as a suspect.

Not only does the horde of residents come under Roy’s scrutiny, anti-Semitism shows its ugly mug as a homicide contender. The razzle-dazzle complex’s initials may elude the uninspired. Moreover, the perpetrator’s identity does raise cogency eyebrows.

Gloria Nagy’s whimsical Sunshine State tale begs sunscreen factor as high as Miami’s August afternoon temperatures.

The international bestselling author of 12 novels shredded Long Island’s social fabric with A HOUSE IN THE HAMPTONS. Nagy shares life in Miami with husband Richard Saul Wurman.