Can Rabbits Eat Peanuts

Rabbits have this undeniable charm with their floppy ears, twitching noses, and soft fur. Every time I see one, it feels like hugging a little cloud! Their playful hops and curious expressions just bring so much joy. Plus, those big eyes seem to reflect a world of innocence. Watching them wiggle around instantly lifts my mood; they embody pure cuteness. They're like tiny explosions of adorableness touching everyone's hearts!

The author of 'Rabbits' is Terry Miles, who's also known for his work on the podcast 'The Black Tapes.' Miles drew inspiration from alternate reality games (ARGs) and conspiracy theories that blur the lines between fiction and reality. His fascination with hidden patterns in everyday life and the idea of a secret, world-altering game led him to create 'Rabbits.' The book taps into urban legends about mysterious competitions where players risk everything for untold rewards. Miles has mentioned being influenced by 90s pop culture, cryptic online forums, and the unsettling feeling that reality might not be as solid as it seems.

I've read tons of mystery novels, and 'Rabbits' stands out because it blends classic detective work with wild sci-fi twists. Most mysteries stick to predictable patterns— a murder, some clues, and a tidy resolution. 'Rabbits' throws that out the window. The protagonist isn’t just solving a crime; they’re unraveling a hidden game that might alter reality itself. The pacing feels like a thriller, with each chapter revealing something crazier than the last. Unlike traditional whodunits, the stakes here feel cosmic, not just personal. The clues are buried in pop culture, tech, and urban legends, making it a rabbit hole (pun intended) for readers who love digging deeper. If you enjoy mysteries but crave something that messes with your brain, this is it. For similar vibes, check out 'House of Leaves'—it’s less about solving crimes and more about losing your mind in layers of mystery.

There’s something about looking up at a pale, cratered disc that makes myths start whispering. One Autumn, while sharing mooncakes under paper lanterns with friends, I noticed the little rabbit stamp on the pastry and started asking why rabbits and the moon always seem to be paired. That led me down a rabbit hole — pun intended — of stories that cross centuries and continents. In Chinese folklore the single most famous image is the Jade Rabbit (Yùtù), who lives on the moon with the goddess Chang'e and pounds the elixir of immortality. In Japan the rabbit is seen pounding mochi, linked to the story of a selfless rabbit that offered itself to a deity. There’s even an Aztec tale where a god throws a rabbit into the moon, leaving an imprint. Part of this is pareidolia: the dark ‘seas’ on the lunar surface form shapes people interpret differently. But the rabbit also carries symbolic weight—birth, renewal, gentle industriousness—which resonates with lunar cycles and the goddess archetype. I love how the image keeps reappearing, from old poems to 'Journey to the West' references and even modern shows like 'Sailor Moon', where the main character’s name, Usagi, literally means rabbit. It’s a small cultural bridge between science, symbolism, and our instinct to tell stories when we look up at the night sky.

I've been obsessed with 'Rabbits' since the first page, and that ending left me craving more. From what I've gathered, the author has dropped hints about continuing the story in interviews, but nothing official yet. The way the last chapter teased alternate realities and unresolved character arcs practically screams sequel material. The fandom's buzzing with theories about where it could go next—maybe exploring the other dimensions barely touched in the first book or diving deeper into the protagonist's mysterious lineage. I'd bet money we'll get an announcement within the year, given how viral the ending went on social media. Until then, I'm rereading and dissecting every symbol for clues.

I've read 'Rabbits' three times now, and each time I spot something new. The game's logo appearing in random background scenes isn't just set dressing—it's a breadcrumb trail. Early chapters mention a character humming a specific tune; later, that melody becomes a key to decoding one of the puzzles. The protagonist's coffee order changes subtly after major plot twists, hinting at timeline shifts most readers gloss over. Newspaper headlines in throwaway scenes actually contain coordinates that map to real-world locations tied to the mystery. The author hides clues in plain sight, rewarding careful readers with 'aha' moments that make rereads essential.

The plot twist in 'Rabbits' that left readers stunned revolves around the protagonist's true identity. Throughout the book, we follow this seemingly ordinary guy uncovering a massive conspiracy tied to an underground game. The shocking reveal is that he isn't just a player—he's actually one of the game's original architects, his memories wiped clean as part of an experiment. This twist recontextualizes every clue he finds, making you realize the 'coincidences' were carefully planted breadcrumbs leading him back to his past. It's a brilliant commentary on free will versus predestination, wrapped in a mystery that makes you want to reread the book immediately to catch all the foreshadowing you missed.

The buzz around 'Rabbits' in book clubs isn't surprising when you dig into its layers. This isn't just another mystery novel—it blends conspiracy theories, alternate realities, and gaming culture into a puzzle that begs to be solved collectively. The protagonist's hunt for answers mirrors how readers dissect clues in book club discussions, making everyone feel like detectives. Terry Miles crafted something interactive by nature; the book references real-world puzzles and urban legends, sparking debates about which elements might actually be true. The pacing is relentless, with twists that subvert expectations just when you think you've figured it out. Clubs love dissecting the Easter eggs and comparing theories about the elusive Rabbits game's rules. It's the kind of story that stays with you, demanding rereads to catch what you missed—perfect for groups that thrive on analysis.