When Southern belle Ellie McBride moves her twins from Vertigo, Tennessee to New York City, they wouldn't dream of leaving behind the family pig Rumpy. But the posh hotel where Ellie has found work (and living space) has "No Pets" writ large on its portal. So hiding Rumpy from the hotel staff—especially the ultra-carnivorous hotel chef, who would like nothing better than to transform their pet into pork roast - becomes imperative.

Can a talented, sensitive pig survive the claustrophobic, neurotic stresses of life in the Big Apple? Can the McBride twins keep their precious pet from becoming the chef's favorite entree?

Get ready for a wonderful ride as master storyteller Jimmy Buffett takes readers on a brilliantly funny romp through Manhattan and beyond. From spoiled rock stars to highly caffeinated football coaches, Buffett's satirical view of American culture never ceases to bite and delight.

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Jimmy Buffett Official Site

Bestselling novelist Jimmy Buffett has been making up stories all his life. Now fiction’s favorite pirate spins a colorful novel about a Southern family determined to hide their pet pig in a fancy four-star hotel in New York City - while a meat-loving chef is sharpening his carving knife downstairs. Come along as master storyteller Jimmy Buffett presents a gumbo of captivating characters and outrageous events in this wonderfully entertaining pig tale - proving once again that stretching the truth is a lot of fun, and laughing is the best vacation of all.

Born in Mississippi and raised in Alabama, Buffett splashed down into the world of fiction in 1989 with Tales from Margaritaville. He followed up this success with Where Is Joe Merchant?, A Salty Piece of Land, and his autobiography, A Pirate Looks at Fifty. He has recorded more than forty albums, most of which have been certified gold, platinum, or multiplatinum.

Rumpy The Pig Speaks

I think there comes a time in everyone's life when the werewolf-like winds of misdirection and the beasts of bad timing put us in an impossible situation. In my case, the question was this: How did a 151-pound pet pig manage to live undetected in a four-star hotel in New York up until this very moment? And what was a pig like me doing, shivering on the ledge of the hotel roof, twenty-five stories above Fifth Avenue?

"Don't jump," I heard a voice call out.

"I have no intention of jumping!" I wanted to reply, but I was too scared to move, much less carry on a conversation. The ice beneath my feet gave no quarter. The wind howled and swirled above my head. I prayed that I wouldn't be turned instantly into an iceboat sail and be sent over the edge - for it was a long, long way down.

"Don't jump," the voice repeated.

I had no idea where it was coming from, and I did not dare look down. The skyline of Manhattan was at eye level and bobbing like an apple in a tub. The trees of Central Park bent and swayed in a fierce wind. The noise from the busy avenue below me would block out any attempt I made to squeal for help.

I did not sign up for this kind of trip. Pets rarely do. Our owners just assume we want to go along, and we often find ourselves riding off into the sunset with the excess baggage, iPods, cell phones, and Igloo coolers that belong to our well-intentioned but misinformed masters and mistresses. Pigs are not allowed in four-star hotels in New York City. Somebody should have thought about that before they brought me here.