I was born on the eighteenth of November, nineteen seventy-one in Adelaide, to hippy parents. We moved to New Zealand, where my brother was born, then back to Adelaide.
Simone Kirsch - ex-stripper, sex kitten, private investigator and drinker of more cheap wine than is good for her - is back, setting up her own PI agency and getting into more trouble with her clients, her lovers and the police.
Just how much trouble can one girl get into? If it's Simone Kirsch, then it's a lot.
The Simone Kirsch Detective Agency - it has a ring about it that Simone loves. And she's willing to bump, grind and shimmy until she has money enough to make it happen. But nothing every really runs quite to plan for Simone.
Andi Fowler, a childhood friend and now journalism student, turns up at the strip joint in need of a detective yet unwilling to tell Simone anything more than she's got something explosively big on someone in hospitality. And the whole frenetically fast, chaotically connected case starts right there. By the next afternoon, Andi's vanished mysteriously.
Restaurant corruption, an insane celebrity chef, an untraceable possum head, a conveniently absent boyfriend and a surprising amount of family history aside, Simone still has to deal with her continuing desire for Alex, her favourite policeman, while racing the clock in her desperate search for Andi. With enough red herrings and jaw-dropping surprises to shake even Simone, Cherry Pie is unputdownable.