Does he ever eat cotton candy for breakfast?" He stepped around the counter to face us, lowered his gaze, and took a sip from the black mug in his hands." No," I said. "He's very much like the Big Bad Wolf. He eats little girls for breakfast." He spoke from behind the cup, his voice deep and as smooth as butterscotch. "She's wrong. I eat big girls for breakfast.

The Curse of Tenth Grave