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When a New York power couple visits Willow's coffee shop and orders low-fat milk lattes, 2 shots of espresso, no foam, extra hot, with three packets of Splenda stirred well she decides she's not that desperate to lose weight As far as she's concerned, they can take their New York accent, their New York cawhfee, their superior attitude, and go back to the Big Apple. Until, that is, Mr. New York's found dead bobbin' for an apple in the middle of Molly's caf . In-between chasing would be bad guys...or gals, Willow tries every trick in the book to lose weight. From wraps to jogging to no carbs, she ends up confused and ornery, snapping at everyone who crosses her path-nothing that a dish of Molly's peach cobbler won't cure. If only murders could be solved so easily