Someone resorts to murder and mayhem in the first mystery in the New York Times bestselling Book Retreat series... Tucked away in the rolling hills of rural western Virginia is the storybook resort of Storyton Hall, catering to book lovers who want to get away from it all. To increase her number of bookings, resort manager Jane Steward has decided to host a Murder and Mayhem week so that fans of the mystery genre can gather together for some role-playing and fantasy crime solving. But when the winner of the scavenger hunt, Felix Hampden, is found dead in the Mystery Suite, and the valuable book he won as his prize is missing, Jane realizes one of her guests is an actual murderer. Amid a resort full of fake detectives, Jane is bound and determined to find a real-life killer. There’s no room for error as Jane tries to unlock this mystery before another vacancy opens up… Praise for the New York Times Bestselling Book Retreat Mysteries “[A] suspenseful and compelling read.”—Kings River Life Magazine “[A] delight...An idyllic mansion in a quaint village complete with secret passages and books, books, and more books—what could make for a more ideal setting for a cozy murder?...Ellery Adams spins a fine tale full of jealously, love, greed, aspirations, and poison...Highly recommended.”—Open Book Society “Adams...combines clever clues, a smart and courageous heroine and an interesting setting in a whodunit that will inspire readers to make further visits to Storyton Hall.”— Richmond Times-Dispatch “Adams makes Storyton Hall come to life…Readers will relish the way [she] weaves together books, mystery, and fantasy.”—Fresh Fiction Ellery Adams is the author of three New York Times bestselling series, including the Book Retreat Mysteries, the Books by the Bay Mysteries, and the Charmed Pie Shoppe Mysteries. Ms. Adams has held many jobs, including caterer, retail clerk, car salesperson, teacher, tutor, and tech writer, all while penning poems, children’s books, and novels. She writes and creates culinary delights from her home in central Virginia. A room without books is like a body without a soul. —MARCUS TULLIUS CICERO WELCOME TO STORYTON HALL Our staff is here to serve you Resort Manager—Jane Steward Butler—Mr. Butterworth Head Librarian—Mr. Sinclair Head Chauffeur—Mr. Sterling Head of Recreation—Mr. Gavin Head of Housekeeping—Mrs. Pimpernel Head Chef—Mrs. Hubbard Select Merchants of Storyton Village Run for Cover Bookshop—Eloise Alcott Cheshire Cat Pub—Bob and Betty Carmichael The Canvas Creamery—Phoebe Doyle La Grande Dame Clothing Boutique—Mabel Wimberly Tresses Hair Salon—Violet Osborne The Pickled Pig Market—the Hogg brothers Geppetto’s Toy Shop—Barnaby Nicholas The Potter’s Shed—Tom Green ONE There were books everywhere. Hundreds of books. Thousands of books. There were books of every size, shape, and color. They lined the walls from floor to ceiling, standing straight and rigid as soldiers on the polished mahogany shelves, the gilt lettering on their worn spines glinting in the soft light, the scent of supple leather and aging paper filling the air. To Jane Steward, there was no sweeter perfume on earth. Of all the libraries in Storyton Hall, this was her favorite. Unlike the other libraries, which were open to the hotel’s paying guests, this was the personal reading room of her great-uncle Aloysius and great-aunt Octavia. “Are you ready, Sinclair?” Jane mounted the rolling book ladder and looked back over her shoulder. A small, portly man with a cloud of white hair and ruddy cheeks wrung his hands in agitation. “Oh, Miss Jane. I wish you wouldn’t ask me to do this. It doesn’t seem prudent.” Jane shrugged. “You heard what Gavin said at our last staff meeting. The greenhouse is in disrepair, the orchard needs pruning, the hedge maze is overgrown, the folly is hidden in brambles, and the roof above the staff quarters is rotting away. I have to come up with funds somehow. Lots of funds. What I need, Sinclair, is inspiration.” She held out her arms as if she could embrace every book in the room. “What better place to find it than here?” “Can’t you just shut your eyes, reach out your hand, and choose a volume from the closest shelf?” Sinclair stuck a finger under his collar, loosening his bow tie. Unlike Storyton’s other staff members, he didn’t wear the hotel’s royal blue and gold livery. As the resort’s head librarian, he distinguished himself by dressing in tweed suits every day of the year. The only spot of color that appeared on his person came in the form of a striped, spotted, floral, or checkered bow tie. Today’s was canary yellow with prim little brown dots. Jane shook her head at the older gentleman she’d known since childhood. “You know that doesn’t work, Sinclair. I have to lose all sense of where I am in the room. The book must choose me, not me, it.” She smiled down at him. “Mrs. Pimpernel tells me that the rails have recently been oiled, so you should be able to push
