It was tall, dark, and chocolatey – the stuff dreams are made of. It was a treat so titanic that nobody had been able to finish one single-handedly (or even single-mouthedly). It was the Malted Falcon.
How far would you go for the ultimate dessert? Somebody went too far, and that’s where I came in.
The local sweets shop held a contest. The prize: A year’s supply of free Malted Falcons. Some lucky kid scored the winning ticket. She brought it in for Show-and-Tell. But after she showed it, somebody swiped it. And no one would tell where it went.
Following a strong hunch and an even stronger sweet tooth, I tracked the ticket through a web of lies more tangled than a rattlesnake doing the rhumba. But the time to claim the prize was fast approaching. Would the villain get the sweet treat, or his just desserts?
Nominated for an Edgar Award by the Mystery Writers of America
The sleuth with the smart mouth shows no signs of slowing down... and should continue to draw fans like fleas to a dog show.Kirkus Reviews