It's a 176 pages independent book wherein hero Lemony Snicket winds up looking for the offender who apparently bound his food with poison. One morning, in the wake of completing his dinner, he tracks down a note on a piece of paper under his entryway: "You had poison for breakfast."
With that, perhaps of the most renowned storyteller in contemporary center grade fiction ends up in an attempt to beat the odds to tackle the secret of his own death.
Nevertheless, for around 100 pages of ramblings, it is still genuinely intriguing how he hops from one point to the next, one story to another and figures out how to make the greater part of the circumstances truly interesting.
This book looks like all the more an exceptionally dynamic journal, with irregular considerations and it is sufficiently amiable.
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