Most chocolatey novel - it's National Chocolate Day!
Seriously? You have got to be kidding me. This is what I get for not reading all of the prompts before using my TWO BEST CHOCOLATE books for prior days.
I'm going to have to dig deep here, people, and choose a pair of novels that have nothing overt to do with chocolate, and yet qualify as my most chocolatey books for quite personal reasons.
When I was in high school, I spent a summer in France, in a small town in Bretagne. Much of the vacation was spent at the beach. We would pack a picnic and walk down a long path through some woods to emerge onto a beach that looked quite like this one:
I was a rather pretentious young lady and had brought a pair of doorstop-sized Russian novels as my summer reading. My main forms of sustenance were Cote d'Or chocolate and baguettes. Both of these foods were, according to my memory, simply incroyable. I had little experience (all right, zero experience) with luxury chocolate, and this stuff tasted nothing like the waxy Hershey's to which I was accustomed. It was creamy and amazing. It also tended to melt, which meant that both of these books came home with smudgey, chocolatey fingerprints on some of the pages, to prove that I had actually read them both from cover to cover.
So, there you go. Summer 1983, France, Russian novelists and chocolate.