I was going to post about Kevin Brooks' Black Rabbit Summer, because, you know: rabbits. But then I thought: YIKES. SO DEPRESSING.
Also, I discovered that I hadn't written about it, so that was problematic.
So instead, I'll point you back to my post about Peter Abrahams' Down the Rabbit Hole:
A thirteen-year-old heroine who admires and emulates Sherlock Holmes? Check.
An awesomely crotchety grandfather who secretly teaches said heroine to shoot? Check.
Loads of references to Alice in Wonderland? Check.
A leetle bit of romance? Check.
A murder mystery that unfolds slowly and culminates in a nail-biting finish? Check.
There's no actual rabbit, and certainly no Easter, but it's a great little mystery, and just thinking about it reminds me that I need to read some of Peter Abrahams' adult books.
Okay, then: I'm off to eat more jelly beans.