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    The Secret, Book & Scone Society
    The Secret, Book & Scone Society
    The Secret, Book & Scone Society
    Ebook358 pages6 hours

    The Secret, Book & Scone Society

    By Ellery Adams

    4/5

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    About this ebook

    First in the mystery series from the New York Times-bestselling author: “Anyone who loves novels that revolve around books will savor this tasty treat.”—Library Journal (starred review)
     
    A quirky club in small-town North Carolina holds the keys to health, happiness, friendship—and even solving a murder—all to be found within the pages of the right book…

    Strangers flock to Miracle Springs hoping the natural hot springs, five-star cuisine, and renowned spa can cure their ills. If none of that works, they often find their way to Miracle Books, where, over a fresh-baked “comfort” scone, they exchange their stories with owner Nora Pennington in return for a carefully chosen book. That’s Nora’s special talent—prescribing the perfect novel to ease a person’s deepest pain. So when a visiting businessman reaches out for guidance, Nora knows exactly how to help. But before he can keep their appointment, he’s found dead on the train tracks.
     
    Stunned, Nora forms the Secret, Book, and Scone Society, a group of damaged souls yearning to earn redemption by helping others. To join, members must divulge their darkest secret—the terrible truth that brought each of them to Miracle Springs in the first place. Now, determined to uncover the truth behind the businessman’s demise, the women meet in Nora’s cozy bookstore. And as they untangle a web of corruption, they also discover their own courage, purpose, and a sisterhood that will carry them through every challenge—proving it’s never too late to turn the page and start over…
     
    “Adams kicks off a new series featuring strong women, a touch of romance and mysticism, and both the cunning present-day mystery and the slowly revealed secrets of the intriguing heroines’ pasts.”—Kirkus Reviews
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherKensington Books
    Release dateOct 31, 2017
    ISBN9781496712394
    Author

    Ellery Adams

    Ellery Adams has written over forty mystery novels and can’t imagine spending a day away from the keyboard. Ms. Adams, a native New Yorker, has had a lifelong love affair with stories, food, rescue animals, and large bodies of water. When not working on her next novel, she reads, bakes, gardens, spoils her three cats, and rearranges her bookshelves. She lives with her husband and two children (aka the Trolls) in Chapel Hill, NC. For reading guides and a list of bibliotherapy titles, please visit ElleryAdamsMysteries.com.

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    Reviews for The Secret, Book & Scone Society

    4/5

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    • 5/5
      The Secret, Book and Scone Society is the first in a brand new cozy mystery series from Ellery Adams. We were introduced to the beautiful setting of Miracle Springs, a charming small town as well as a group of four women who become friends while trying to solve a murder. When a newcomer to town is pushed in front of a train, the women all want to see justice served, thus The Secret Book and Scone Society is born.

      Nora Pennington was badly injured with extensive burns, She never tells anyone what happened and prefers to be left alone. She came to Miracle Springs for healing of her spirit more than anything. She opens a bookstore and uses what she learned from a nurse in the hospital to become a "book psychologist". When she meets three other women in this small town who also have their own secrets, they begin to trust and depend on one another. Nora, Estella, June and Hester start out as unlikely friends but they soon become a strong group and a force to reckon with. The mystery involves real estate fraud, infidelity and murder to prevent discovery. It moved quickly yet there was a lot of detail to get to know the woman in this first book in the series. I loved the characters of the women and the EMS personnel that begins to develop feelings for Nora. Maybe she will heal after all. A different type of cozy, but enjoyable nonetheless. I will definitely read the next one in this series.
    • 4/5
      Miracle Springs, North Carolina, is supposed to be a place of healing. People flock to the natural hot springs, five-star cuisine, and a renowned spa. But when none of the usual treatments help they land at Miracle Books. With a fresh-baked “comfort” scone from the Gingerbread House, they tell Nora Pennington their troubles. Nora can always find the perfect book to help them in ways other treatments can’t.

      When a visiting businessman speaks with to Nora while sitting on a park bench, she knows exactly which novels will help him. Unfortunately, before he can keep the appointment at Miracle Books, he’s found dead on the train tracks.

      Nora doesn’t believe it was an accident, so she forms the Secret, Book, and Scone Society to prove it. Four women with issues of their own gain trust and confidence in each other by helping others. To join the society, members must divulge their darkest secret—the truth that brought them to Miracle Springs in the first place.

      --
      Series: Book 1
      Author: Ellery Adams
      Genre: Cozy Mystery
      Publisher: Kensington

      The Secret, Book & Scone Society is a story of women determined to uncover the truth. What's behind a murder of a stranger. Perhaps the answer can bring a form of redemption or salvation to the women’s lives. Ellery Adams writes as though she fully understands what the women have gone through, and how they each hide what they feel from the world. The story is realistic on many levels. All people have something they do not tell others, and most will do their best to hide the things that hurt them the most.

      Nora is not a perfect person; she is scarred physically and emotionally. She moved to Miracle Springs to start over. To bury the past and prevent her heart from ever being broken again. The character is a study in the human condition. Unwilling to get involved with others, afraid to let them in on her secrets Nora nonetheless cares about people and tries to help in the only way she thinks she can.

      The other characters, Estella, Hester, and June, are unique in their own way. They have secrets of their own and do not judge each other based on their past. It is interesting to read each chapter and watch as the characters develop into mostly happy people who have taken responsibility for their own wellbeing. Having friends is something they did not anticipate or ever consider but becomes something they don’t want to give up. They are willing to risk their secrets in order to have friends and help when a friend is in trouble.

      The other characters in this book are well-rounded and believable. They enhance the story and make it a challenge to figure out who the killer is. Even the “bad” characters make the story a bit more interesting. The reader cheers for revenge and justice, hoping that the killer will pay the ultimate price for their crimes.

      Miracle Springs, North Carolina does not exist, but wouldn’t it be great if it did? To know there is a place where a person can go to help ease their worries or heal their pain is a place everyone would visit. More description of the town and the shops, and their owners would be interesting. Hopefully, this will evolve as the series progresses.

      Overall The Secret, Book & Scone Society is a well-written book with memorable characters and a plot that although somewhat convoluted, plays well in today’s society. This book is highly recommended for those that love intricate plots and character story-lines that will keep them guessing and turning the page.



    • 4/5
      Nora Pennington moved to Miracle Springs after a terrible personal tragedy, and opened a bookstore, Miracle Books. She sells books, and coffee, and for those customers who need it, over a "comfort scone" from the neighboring Gingerbread House bakery, she'll listen to their troubles, and recommend well-chosen books to start them on the path to healing.

      It's a peaceful, quiet life, until one day, the customer in need of healing is Neil Parrish. He makes an appointment to see her the next day, but is killed by a train before he can keep that appointment. It's not long before the clumsy official investigation into the death connects Nora with three other women who moved to Miracle Springs for their own healing. They form the Secret, Book, & Scone Society. They share their secrets, and launch their own investigation of Neil Parrish's death.

      They're all compromised individuals, but they also all prove to be strong and smart women in their own ways. Miracle Springs also proves to have more than just their secrets, and much more dangerous ones, but it also has other strong, good characters along with its venal and corrupt ones. The plot avoids the lazy and the silly, and we see the women discover their strength, learn to trust their new friendship, and also start to make more friends beyond their own immediate circle.

      The book reads to me like a well-thought-out, and very promising start to a new mystery series, centered around character.

      Recommended.

      I bought this audiobook.
    • 4/5
      THE SECRET, BOOK, AND SCONE SOCIETY is the first in a new series by Ellery Adams that beautifully combines my favorite elements of mystery, magical realism, and women's fiction. The book is set in the enchanting town of Miracle Springs, North Carolina - a place that draws people in need of healing - including main character Nora Pennington and the other members of the Secret, Book, and Scone Society. The group forms initially to investigate the death of an out-of-town businessman, but a strong bond of friendship forms as each woman's most painful secret is revealed.Nora's character is a bibliotherapist, and she always knows the right books to recommend to someone in need of guidance. Readers who love stories about books will appreciate the many titles mentioned and literary quotes throughout, as well as Nora's amazing bookstore. This book was a bit darker than a typical cozy mystery in that the secrets revealed were weightier than I expected. Still, this character-driven mystery was strong and kept me engaged. Enjoyed!Disclosure: I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for an honest review.
    • 3/5
      Nora, Hester, Estella and Joan, four women, with their own scars and secrets, come together to help a man who could no longer help himself. The mystery of what has and what is about to happen in Miracle Springs, North Carolina is not nearly as interesting as the secrets that have come to define these women. The women’s stories are teased out while the mystery unfolds. Clever, but not highly sophisticated nor remotely believable. Nevertheless, it was a pleasant read for a stormy Sunday afternoon.Thank you NetGalley and Kensington Books for an ARC
    • 3/5
      This has a fun premise. I love the idea of bibliotherapy and women’s friendships and people’s stories/secrets. I love cozy mysteries and I did enjoy this one, though it got a bit violent/intense for my tastes, but just briefly.There are lots of wonderful quotes that I enjoyed, at the beginning of each chapter and within the book proper, and also mentions of many books.So, loved the quotes, the concept, the books theme, and that there was some depth to the characters.But while this is the first book in a series, the author has written other books, and I was surprised that the writing and story telling/construction seemed slightly amateurish and clumsy. It was okay enough and the story and characters and premise, and mysteries too, kept my interest. And all the talk of food made me very hungry; I veganized everything, of course.It was okay. I liked it. I might read on but I might not.
    • 4/5
      Miracle Springs, NC is supposed to be a place of healing, small and old fashioned, a place of peace. The local sheriff is an undiluted, stereotypical Southern Sheriff of the worst sort. Four women decide to set aside their personal secrets of loss and begin to trust one another, as they have trusted no one in years. This sounds a bit like a cozy cliche, but the courage and wisdom these women forge into a weapon against those who would marginalize them is something to see and enjoy.
    • 5/5
      Women with their own personal specialties and talents, helping solve some murder mysteries in a small town makes for a good story that wasn't easy to figure out ahead of time by the reader.
    • 4/5
      The Secret, Book and Scone Society by Ellery Adams is the first book in Miracle Springs, North Carolina series. Nora Pennington owns Miracle Books in Miracle Springs, North Carolina. The town is known to be a place of healing and Nora is known locally as a bibliotherapist. A man in the park wishes Nora‘s help, so she suggests that he pick up a comfort scone from Gingerbread House and come to her shop. Before he can get to Nora for assistance, Neil Parrish is found dead on the train tracks. When the police rule it a suicide, Nora along with Estella, June and Hester form The Secret, Book and Scone Society. Their purpose is get the truth about the man’s demise. They delve into Neil’s life to uncover what could have gotten him killed. They knew he came to town ahead of his partner’s and he was wrestling with a problem. When the four ladies meet to discuss what they have uncovered, each member of the group reveals the secret that brought them to Miracle Springs. These four women band together to get justice for one man and find themselves embroiled in a corruption scandal. The best thing to come out of this is four lone woman find friendship, love and acceptance.The Secret, Book and Scone Society is well-written and engaging. My attention was captured right away with Nora’s description. I found the four main characters to be personable yet flawed from life’s tragedy. They were fleshed out and given life—very realistic. Each one is unique. There are also some characters (namely Sheriff Todd Hendricks) that readers will really dislike and wish to maim. I did not like how the police treated women in this book (I know it was part of the story, but it was offensive). I liked the description of the town, the Gingerbread House, Nora’s home (it is in a red train caboose) and, most especially, Miracle Books. My rating for The Secret, Book and Scone Society is 4 out of 5 stars (I liked it). The book contained more cozy elements than mystery. I was hoping for a more complex whodunit (like is Ms. Adams Murder in the Mystery Suite). I did like the authors use of misdirection in this book.
    • 4/5
      The Secret, Book and Scone Society is a riveting mystery of not just who was responsible for several murders in Miracle Springs NC but also the mystery of the members of the society and what made them who they are now. Nora, a bibliotherapist, is not just scarred physically but also emotionally. Hester, a phenomenal baker, has hidden secrets along with June, the spa attendant at the springs, and Estella the local hair stylist. These 4 ladies join together to find justice for a stranger who had come to their town to right a wrong.This is an absolutely tremendous mystery weaving the character's personal stories in among the clues to the murders of two partners in a land development company. The mystery was crisp and tense while the characters could visibly be seen to grow and emerge from their frightened withdrawn starts like butterflies from a cocoon strong and determined to find justice for the victims as well as themselves...
    • 4/5
      "...if you're lucky, the words in those books will force you to grapple with the hardest truths of your life."A new cozy series with a bookstore as the focus - yay! This was a great start to a new series. The four main characters were really likable and their stories, while sad and a bit somber for a cozy, have really set the foundation for future stories. The mystery was solid and this book is chocked full of beautiful writing, as well as smart and witty literary references. All around a smart and really elevated cozy. Many thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for allowing me to review an advanced copy.
    • 4/5
      Here’s the premise of this new series: four women, all of whom have secrets that have shaped their lives, come together to help solve a murder. The setting is Miracle Springs, North Carolina. The women include a bookstore owner, a baker, a beautician and a spa worker. In their own individual ways, they help visitors heal themselves. Nora Pennington, owner of Miracle Books, is a bibliotherapist. She has an uncanny knack for selling people just the right books – those that will answer their questions and help them on their journey. The baker makes customized “comfort scones” that evoke positive memories, often from childhood.This may appear to be a cozy mystery but it has noir-ish elements that keep it from becoming too saccharine. There’s a little woo-woo, but not too much. I have enjoyed Ellery Adams’s books in all her authorial incarnations … and The Secret, Book and Scone Society is no exception.
    • 4/5
      I'm not much of a mystery lover, but this book pulled me in. I enjoyed the story line and the characters were well thought out. I would have loved to have visited the Book Store in the story.
    • 3/5
      A customer dies and bookstore owner Nora and three others investigate. The plot leads them from clue to clue and they figure out the murderer in the end. The mystery plot itself was straightforward with a touch of romance thrown in. The most interesting part was the way Nora’s selections for customer could be therapeutic. I received this book through a Goodreads giveaway. Although encouraged, I was under no obligation to write a review. The opinions I have expressed are my own.
    • 4/5
      Four women, each with a secret and broken or scarred in their own right, develop close bonds with one another as they learn to trust. A man is found dead on the train tracks - someone, one of the four women had recently met. The immediate conclusion - suicide. This does not coincide with the woman's sense of that man and she and the other women seek justice for the person whose voice is already silenced. The characters are better developed and the tone darker than is found in most cozy mysteries. Yet, this gives the story more gravitas and it more easily relates to our everyday existence. In spite of the weight there is much hope found throughout the book.If you are a cozy mystery fan seeking a story which will linger with you, then this is the book for you! I thoroughly enjoyed it and trust that you will too.Synopsis (from book's dust jacket):Miracle Springs, North Carolina, is a place of healing. Strangers flock here hoping the natural hot springs, five-star cuisine, and renowned spa can cure their ills. If none of that works, they often find their way to Miracle Books, where, over a fresh-baked “comfort” scone from the Gingerbread House bakery, they exchange their stories with owner Nora Pennington in return for a carefully chosen book. That’s Nora’s special talent—prescribing the perfect novel to ease a person’s deepest pain and lighten their heaviest burden.When a visiting businessman reaches out to Nora for guidance, she knows exactly which novels will help. But before he can keep their appointment at Miracle Books, he’s found dead on the train tracks.Stunned, Nora forms the Secret, Book, and Scone Society, a group of damaged souls yearning to gain trust and earn redemption by helping others. To join the society, members must divulge their darkest secret—the terrible truth that brought each of them to Miracle Springs in the first place.Determined to uncover the truth behind the businessman’s demise, the women meet in Nora’s cramped and cozy bookstore to share stories and trade support. And as they untangle a web of corruption, they also discover their own courage, purpose, and a sisterhood that will carry them through every challenge—proving it’s never too late to turn the page and start over . . .
    • 4/5
      Well-paced plot, likable women sleuths, great murder mystery combining books and food. What's not to like?
    • 4/5
      Working in a bookshop doesn’t mean Nora has a boring life. When she sets out to find out what happened to a prospective customer, she makes some friends and shares some secrets along the way. This had all the makings of a delightful read, but was just a little bit over the top at times. I enjoyed the many book references!
    • 5/5
      A story about female friendship, secrets, being hurted and healing. And a mystery as well. This is not the typical cozy mystery, it's darker and sometimes the mystery plot takes the backseat.
      Friendship and healing matters as much as finding the culprit. It made me cry sometimes as I was able to recognize myself in some small details.
      It is strongly advised if you want a mystery with some food for thought.
      Thanks to Netgalley and the publisher
    • 2/5
      Caution: This book may induce hunger and provoke bakery visits.I had high hopes for this series, but I was underwhelmed by this first book. I did enjoy some aspects. The premise is unique and entertaining. The setting is fun. And I love that we have a group of strong, independent women bonding over books and real-life mysteries. Then there are the things I didn't like. First, the women are supposed to be in their 30s, but most feel much older in their language and behavior. This aspect struck me as odd throughout, and I kept having to remind myself of their ages.I didn't buy into the way these women, who are relative strangers to one another, all immediately jumped on the bandwagon, risking their lives to investigate the death of a man who was a total stranger to all of them.The mystery tries to be complex but is ultimately predictable. The pacing is slow, and we don't spend a lot of time sleuthing. The women's drama and secret pasts take precedence over everything else.The final half-page of the ending serves absolutely no purpose aside from creating a cliffhanger with whatever will happen in book 2.I already have book 2, so I'm hoping that this book serves as the setup and the next one will have more substance.
    • 4/5
      I really liked the book. Was very uplifting. Four women with secrets come together to right a wrong. It may seem far fetched to some but then again we should never underestimate the power of a small dedicated group of people to change the world.
      Each of the women have some kind of other worldly power of empathy. This strikes me as a bit witchy but not in a creepy way. We just about see the bare bones of the characters in this book and I'm looking forward to getting to know them better as the series progresses.
    • 4/5
      Great story about female friendship, mystery solving, and greed. Looking forward to reading more in the series with these ladies.
    • 3/5
      Although categorized in the mystery genre, this book holds appeal for readers who treasure books about women and their relationships. The four members of the "Secret, Book, and Scone Society" all bear scars from past circumstances, and many continue to hold onto secrets. One runs a bookstore, specializing in bibliotherapy. Another owns her own bakery. Another operates as a beautician. The other works in a spa. When the sheriff arrests one of them, the others set out to prove a false arrest. The Western North Carolina community houses a new real estate development that does not appear to be on the up-and-up. I enjoyed the setting, the bookstore, and the bakery much more than the overall mystery. I will probably read the next installment just to learn some of the outcomes not settled in this installment.

      1 person found this helpful

    • 2/5
      This is a story that is clearly designed to appeal to bibliophiles, with its bookstore setting and a protagonist with a gift for choosing the perfect book. But, sadly for us bibliophiles, the tale proves to be a plodding, formulaic murder mystery afflicted by pointless descriptions and statements of the obvious. I wanted to like this but the writing is just so ham-handed and sloppy, I simply cannot bear it.

      I received a copy of this book free from the publisher for review.

    • 3/5
      Talk about going lightly over rough ground, this book makes a cosy out of some of the worst tragedies in the women's lives. Way too comfy and trite. It is competently written and paced, but not worth the time.
    • 4/5
      A solid mystery embedded in stories of relationships with books and other things. A generous dash of melodrama, and women swooning at the brush of a man's hand, but those weaknesses are quickly forgotten in this fast paced narrative. One of the main purposes of this book was to lay the foundations for an ongoing series, and I'm pleased to see that the follow up volume is already planned. That I went looking to see if there was more should speak to my overall "thumbs up" rating.

    Book preview

    The Secret, Book & Scone Society - Ellery Adams

    MacCavity

    Chapter 1

    A book must be an ice-axe to break the seas frozen inside our soul.

    —Franz Kafka

    The man on the park bench stared at the empty space above the knuckle of Nora Pennington’s pinkie finger.

    Strangers were always hypnotized by this gap. They would gaze at the puckered skin stretched over the nub of finger bone for several awkward seconds before averting their eyes in disgust, pity, or both.

    Like most strangers, the man’s attention could only remain on Nora’s pinkie for so long. She had other fascinating scars. He couldn’t fixate on just one.

    His chin jerked slightly, as though he knew he was being impolite and should look away, but was powerless to do so. His eyes slowly traveled over the bubble of shell-smooth skin on the back of her hand. It was pinker and shinier than the surrounding skin, and Nora sensed that the man had an irrational desire to touch it.

    Years ago, when Nora was in the hospital, a night nurse with silver hair that flashed like fish scales when caught by the light told Nora that the burn on her hand was shaped like Iceland.

    That’s where I’m from, the nurse had added proudly. Her voice was part grandmother’s lullaby, part chamomile tea, and part chenille blanket. It was the only thing that penetrated Nora’s veil of pain. You even have the two peninsulas on Iceland’s western shore. See? They’re like a pair of crab pincers.

    Nora hadn’t opened her eyes to look. She didn’t want to acknowledge the nurse’s presence. She didn’t want comfort. She’d wanted to be left alone to sink deeper in her ocean of agony and remorse.

    The man on the bench shifted, bringing Nora back to the present.

    He was studying her right arm. This was her darkest, angriest scar: a Portuguese man-of-war jellyfish swimming through her skin from wrist to shoulder. And while part of its red and purple bell disappeared into the sleeve of her white blouse, there was an impression of other sea creatures reemerging above the collar. A parade of pale, glistening octopi drifted across Nora’s neck and cheek, forever trapped in the ripples and wavelets the flames had carved into her skin.

    The man’s eyes strayed to Nora’s other hand. The unblemished one.

    This was unusual. Most people finished their inspection of Nora’s face with a forlorn expression. She knew exactly what they were thinking when they wore that look.

    What a shame. She’d be so pretty without those scars.

    But this man hadn’t responded with the too bad, so sad expression. He was clearly more interested in the scone she held than in continuing to study her burn scars.

    Nora felt herself relaxing the stiff posture she held when newcomers inspected her.

    Excuse me. The man pointed at her decimated pastry. Where did you get that?

    Nora, who’d been feeding the scone to a small flock of mourning doves, replied, From the Gingerbread House. They’re called comfort scones. The baker, Hester, makes custom scones based on what she thinks her patrons will be comforted by. You should pay her a visit.

    I love scones, but I haven’t had one in forever. I used to have a chocolate-chip scone every Thursday afternoon at this little coffee shop near my office. But that was before everything changed. I couldn’t look the barista in the eye after— The man fell into an abrupt silence. He sat very still and watched the doves devour Nora’s crumbs. When every last piece was gone, he asked, Why are you feeding yours to the birds?

    A customer dropped it on the floor while I was in the bakery buying a cinnamon twist, Nora said. I prefer cinnamon twists over scones because they’re easier to eat while I’m reading. That’s my main priority when it comes to food. Other people are obsessed with calories, nutritional value, antioxidants. I look at food and wonder: Can I eat that without having to put my book down?

    This elicited a small smile from the man. He pointed at the yellow building with the cobalt blue trim and doors on the far side of the park. The former train depot, which had been converted into a bookshop, possessed an air of charming dilapidation.

    So I take it you hang out there pretty often, he said.

    I do. Dusting crumbs from her hands, Nora added, Miracle Books is my store.

    Hearing this, the man pivoted to face her.

    The sudden movement startled the doves and they took off in a burst of alarmed coos and whooshing wings.

    An African-American woman working at the thermal pools told me about the resident bibliotherapist. Was she talking about you?

    Nora saw the need in the man’s eyes. She’d seen it hundreds of times. But only from those who dared to look directly at her. This woman said that the bibliotherapist was able to help people solve their problems by recommending certain titles. The man gestured at Miracle Books. It makes sense that you’d own a bookstore.

    I have no official training, Nora said, uttering her standard disclaimer. Before I came to Miracle Springs, I was a librarian. I haven’t taken a single course in psychology. I’ve never done any formal counseling.

    The man frowned in confusion. This woman said that people seek you out when the rest of the services in town failed to make them feel better. But I don’t get it. How can you succeed where all of the professionals—and the healing waters—can’t?

    Nora shrugged. "There’s no guarantee my method will work, either. I read all the time. And I listen to people. I really listen. She held the man’s dubious gaze. Stories don’t change much across continents and centuries. Hearts are broken. Pride is wounded. Souls wander too far from home and become lost. The wrong roads are taken. The incorrect choice is made. Stories echo with loneliness. Grief. Longing. Redemption. Forgiveness. Hope. And love. Now it was her turn to point at the bookstore. That building is stuffed with books that, once opened, reveal our communal story. And, if you’re lucky, the words in those books will force you to grapple with the hardest truths of your life. After reducing you to a puddle of tears, they’ll raise you to your feet again. The words will pull you up, higher and higher, until you feel the sun on your face again. Until you’re suddenly humming on the way to the mailbox. Or you’re buying bouquets of gerbera daisies because you crave bright colors. And you’ll laugh again—as freely as champagne bubbling in a tall, glass flute. When’s the last time you laughed like that?"

    The man’s mouth twisted. He was trying to hold his emotion in check—to keep his pain from overtaking him. His hands gripped his knees so hard that his knuckles had gone white. He looked away from Nora, and she thought he might get up and leave. Instead, he asked, How does it work? This bibliotherapy.

    Go to the Gingerbread House and buy a comfort scone, Nora said. Tell Hester you’re coming to see me and she’ll put your scone in a takeout box. I have coffee, but the fanciest thing I make with my espresso machine is a latte, so if you’re used to soy no-foam mochaccinos, you’re going to be disappointed.

    I confess to making decisions that have complicated my life and compromised my principles, the man said. But I’ve never taken my coffee any way but black.

    Then we’re off to a good start. Nora got to her feet. While you’re eating, you can tell me what brought you to Miracle Springs. She held up her hands. This won’t be like a traditional counseling session where we sit down and you talk for a long period of time. You won’t need to go into detail with me. I only need a broad brushstroke—a brief glimpse into the heart of your pain. That way, I can select the right books. After that, you can start reading your way to a fresh start this evening.

    The man grunted, infusing his exhalation with a feeling of dismissal. I’m not much of a reader.

    Ah. Nora moved away a few steps and then stopped and spun on her heel. You came to Miracle Springs to make changes, didn’t you? Becoming a reader is a change for the better. Trust me. No one has ever lost by becoming addicted to stories—to the lessons learned by those who possess enough courage to put pen to paper.

    You’ve got a point. Another dismissive grunt. What’s the worst that could happen from my opening the cover of a book?

    For the first time since they’d begun speaking, Nora smiled. And because she was showing the man the unblemished side of her face, she saw that he was utterly transfixed.

    You have no idea, Nora said. Her smile wavered before completely vanishing. Stories are just like people. If you don’t approach them with an open mind and a healthy dose of respect, they won’t reveal their hidden selves to you. In that event, you’ll miss out on what they have to offer. You’ll walk through life an empty husk instead of a vibrant kaleidoscope of passion, wisdom, and experience.

    The man studied her for a long moment. I don’t want to be empty anymore. I came to Miracle Springs days ahead of my partners to figure out how to fix things before it happens all over again. Nothing’s worked. My partners arrive on the three o’clock train, so I have nothing to lose by giving your method a shot. He grinned. At the very least, I’ll have a scone for my efforts. Where is this celebrated Gingerbread House?

    Nora gave him directions and then continued on to Miracle Books. She had things to take care of before the man returned for his session. The trolley from the lodge would be arriving soon, and trolley-loads of rich and restless souls paid Nora’s bills.

    Nora Pennington loved selling books. She loved talking to people about books. But what she wanted most was to heal people using books.

    Four years ago, when Nora had been a patient in a hospital burn unit, she’d prayed for death. Not only were her prayers unanswered, but she was also given first-rate medical care and the perfect prescription of stories, courtesy of an Icelandic nurse with silver hair.

    First, the nurse brought Nora books about physically deformed men who were capable of great genius, devout love, acts of madness, or all of the above. And while Nora refused to watch television or receive visitors, she grudgingly reread Frankenstein.

    Next, she was given The Phantom of the Opera, followed by the Christine Sparks version of The Elephant Man.

    "Are you trying to depress me? Because I don’t think I need any help in that department," Nora had grumbled to the nurse. She’d been angry. She was always angry. And when she wasn’t angry, she was depressed. She felt no other emotions.

    In response, the nurse had laid a copy of The Hunchback of Notre-Dame on her bed.

    "Guess I’m ready for Dracula or Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde," Nora had told her caregiver after she’d finished the Victor Hugo classic.

    You’re heading in another direction, the nurse had cheerfully informed her, placing John Green’s Looking for Alaska, Karen Kingsbury’s Waiting for Morning, and Kristin Hannah’s Night Road on Nora’s nightstand.

    Because of the narcotics, Nora hadn’t immediately realized that the theme of this current set of novels was drunk driving, so she read on. As she’d turned the pages, her emotional pain became as intense as her physical pain.

    Why are you doing this? she’d whispered to the nurse one night. You heard about my accident. I thought you were kind.

    You have to sink to the very bottom, my child, the woman had whispered in her lullaby voice. After that, you can push off with both feet and start swimming toward the surface. You’re strong. You can get there. But it’s going to hurt. You have to clean out the wound before it can heal. Let the stories be your antiseptic. Bear the pain now for a chance at a better tomorrow. Otherwise, you’ll repeat the mistakes that landed you in this bed.

    Nora had read every title. When she was done, the nurse had brought her a book called The Burn Journals by Brent Runyon. It’s about a boy who set himself on fire when he was fourteen, she told Nora. I know you didn’t burn yourself on purpose, but I thought you’d like to read about his recovery process. He might even make you laugh.

    I doubt it, Nora had thought. She’d done a terrible, terrible thing. There would be no laughter in her life. Never again.

    But she’d read the book. And the next one. And the next.

    The night before she was to be discharged from the hospital, Nora had asked for more books.

    You’re a librarian, the nurse had replied with a smile. You know where to find them.

    Nora had dropped her eyes. I’m not going back. I need to start over—in another place.

    The nurse had sat on the edge of Nora’s bed and taken her good hand in hers. What would this place look like? The place where you’d begin a new life?

    It would have lots and lots of books, Nora had said. I can’t live without them. Gazing at the lights and omnipresent haze of the urban sprawl outside her window, she went on: It would be in the country. Somewhere remote and lovely. A place where people still grow vegetable gardens and build purple-martin houses. Where they have quirky holiday parades and bake sales. A place where people look for the pets on posters stapled to telephone polls. A little town. Not so little that everyone will pry into my business, but small enough that the locals will eventually get used to my appearance. Eventually, they’ll stop whispering.

    And what will you do for money in this paradise? the nurse had asked.

    At this question, Nora had gone clammy with fear. She’d been so caught up in her fantasy that she hadn’t considered the practicalities. During her lengthy convalescence, she’d ignored visitors, phone calls, and letters. But as of tomorrow, she couldn’t hide from the outside world anymore.

    Her burn scars had begun to throb, which was good, because the pain kept her grounded. She wanted to feel pain. She deserved it, so she embraced it.

    I’ll open a bookstore, she’d said calmly. I have some savings, and if I find a town that needs a bookstore—

    Doesn’t every town? the nurse had interjected, her glacier-blue eyes twinkling with humor.

    Nora had smiled. Smiling hurt the burn wound on her right cheek, but she owed this woman a smile, at the very least. If it wants a soul, then yes. Every town needs a bookstore.

    * * *

    Nora pushed open the door to Miracle Books to the jingle-jangle of sleigh bells. They weren’t a light, melodious tinkle, but a loud clanging that erupted from a leather horse harness covered in baseball-sized brass bells. Nora had bought the harness at the flea market and hung it from a nail on the back of the door. This way, she knew when a customer entered the shop, even if she was at the other end of the labyrinth of bookshelves she’d created to funnel people from the front toward the ticket-agent’s office.

    Everything in the store—from the fainting couch to the leather sofa, and the assortment of upholstered chairs in various stages of degeneration—came from yard sales and flea markets. Occasionally, Nora made purchases from the local auction company, but these treasures were reserved for her home: a four-room, tiny house that had once been a functioning railroad car. The locals referred to her diminutive abode as Caboose Cottage because her refurbished train car was a cheerful apple-red.

    After flipping the SHUT sign over to read OPEN, Nora continued walking deeper into the shop. She needed to brew coffee. The trolley would be pulling into the public parking area any moment now.

    Nora entered the small office where train tickets were once sold to Miracle Springs travelers. In order to convert the office into a basic coffee dispensary, Nora had removed the ticket window’s glass divide and hung a chalkboard next to the opening. The chalkboard listed the literary names of the beverages Miracle Books offered:

    The Ernest Hemingway—Dark Roast

    The Louisa May Alcott—Light Roast

    The Dante Alighieri—Decaf

    The Wilkie Collins—Cappuccino

    The Jack London—Latte

    The Agatha ChrisTEA—Earl Grey

    From time to time, customers would suggest a new and complicated espresso recipe along with a suitable author name to match.

    Nora, who’d learned to treat people’s feelings with care since her life had taken such a dramatic turn on a dark highway four years ago, would smile and praise the person for their creativity. She would then confess that her secondhand espresso maker could barely handle steaming milk, but if she ever had the chance to upgrade, she’d keep their drink idea in mind.

    At this point, the enthusiastic customer would glance around the shop and notice, possibly for the first time, the piece of duct tape on the split-chair cushion or that the reading lamp was burning one bulb instead of three. Seeing as they’d come to Miracle Springs in search of healing—from a physical or emotional injury, it wasn’t always easy to tell—Nora’s customers were usually empathetic people. Therefore, they’d drop the subject, order a coffee from the menu, and spend more money than they’d originally planned.

    Nora made the latter especially easy to do by filling the store with impulse buys. Not only did she stock new and gently used books, but also signed books, collectible books, bookmarks, bookplates, and shelf enhancers as well.

    Shelf enhancers were what Nora had dubbed the bookends, figurines, framed prints, paperweights, clay pots, birdcages, portrait plates, decoys, folk art, miniature needlework plaques, tea caddies, inkwells, apothecary jars, Depression glass vases, tin signs, stone busts, vintage trophies, brass scales, old game boards, and so on, which she strategically placed on every shelf.

    Nora purchased every item at its rock-bottom price. She hit the yard-sale scene on certain Saturday mornings, and on occasional Sundays she combed the flea markets, examining any item captivating her interest with extreme care. The local vendors had come to respect her discriminating eye and shrewd bartering skills. They also knew that she resold their wares at a profit, but the profit margin was small and they didn’t begrudge her a living.

    What else is a woman like that going to do? some of the less charitable sellers would whisper, seeing themselves as magnanimous for giving Nora extra discounts here and there.

    Of course, Nora knew exactly which vendors felt this way and didn’t hesitate to accept said discounts. All she had was Miracle Books, and she’d do anything to keep her store afloat.

    Almost anything, Nora thought, scooping coffee grounds into a paper filter. She hadn’t been very open to suggestions from local readers, most of whom were women looking to start a book club and use Miracle Books as their meeting place. Nora was fine with that aspect, but she’d stoutly declined when asked to serve as the book-club facilitator.

    I can’t was all Nora had told Mrs. Cassidy at the time. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the idea of discussing a work of women’s fiction as plates of homemade desserts were passed around, but Nora never put herself in the center of a crowd. She felt truly comfortable only inside the ticket booth, with a thick, wooden counter separating herself from other people. To sit in a circle facing a group of women—no, they would start asking her questions. They’d want to get to know her, and Nora couldn’t allow that to happen.

    She’d come to Miracle Springs to forget.

    The sleigh bells jingled and jangled from the front of the store and Nora glanced at her watch again. It was still too early for the trolley, and there was no chance the man from the bench had made it to the Gingerbread House, had a customized comfort scone prepared and packaged for him, and was now ready for his bibliotherapy session. That meant the newcomer was a customer, and Nora would let him or her wander in peace. She never approached browsers unless they gave off an air of needing help, and Nora had become adept at reading people’s vibes.

    Back when she was a librarian, she didn’t pay much attention to vibes. Once, a patron requested a book on color auras. The title was long out-of-print and could only be acquired by interlibrary loan. As Nora was filling out the form, the patron informed her that she had a dark red aura.

    You’re practical, hardworking, loyal, and honest, she’d said. You’re also a survivor. You’ve had, or will have to face, a serious trauma.

    Nora, who’d foolishly believed herself to be content, dismissed the woman’s reading as the ramblings of a New Age hobbyist.

    The trauma was coming, however. It was rushing toward Nora like a runaway train. And she stood directly in its path—too busy with work and other obligations to realize that she was about to be mowed down.

    Do auras change? Nora wondered, as she pressed the brew button on the coffeemaker. They should. Because people change. For better and for worse.

    In the distance, she heard the whistle of the afternoon train. Nora never tired of its long, heartrending note. What other sound could convey both the romance of returning home and the ache of leave-taking? The next whistle, which would blow in approximately five minutes, meant that the train was just about to enter the narrow, dark tunnel preceding the Miracle Springs station.

    Suddenly, the space where the tip of Nora’s pinkie finger used to be tingled. She stared at her hand, discomfited by the sensation. She’d never experienced the feeling before.

    Excuse me, said a soft, female voice, and Nora hid her damaged hand behind her back.

    Yes? Can I help you? she asked, averting the burned side of her face.

    Like all strangers, the woman noticed Nora’s scars. However, she only gave them a cursory inspection. Do you carry cookbooks with scone recipes? I just ate the most amazing scone at the Gingerbread House, but the baker said the recipe couldn’t be duplicated because her scones are based on people’s fondest memories. She told me that she uses a basic recipe and adds certain ingredients after talking to each customer.

    That’s what I’ve heard as well, Nora said. What did yours taste like?

    Oranges and cream. The woman’s face broke into a broad grin. The first bite brought me back to my grandmother’s house in Florida. She had orange trees. During my visits, we’d bake the most delicious things. Her kitchen was filled with clutter and sunshine. I loved every minute I spent with her.

    Nora came out from inside the ticket booth. I have several cookbooks with scone recipes. The best anyone can do is to create a scone of their own.

    I’d settle for that, the woman said. She was younger than Nora, who was edging toward forty, but had the wise and slightly guarded eyes of someone who’d experienced a decade’s worth of anguish in a very short period of time. If I could spend a few hours lost in memories of Granny, I would.

    As Nora led the woman to the cookbook section, two things occurred. First, the space just above her pinkie finger tingled again. Simultaneously, the second train whistle called out the imminent arrival of more people in search of healing.

    The woman, who’d paused to pluck a Vaseline-glass fox from a bookshelf, hadn’t noticed that Nora had stopped walking.

    Granny had a fox just like this, the woman said, running her fingers down the fox’s smooth back. She let me touch all of her things, even when I was very young. My house was a veritable museum. It was more important to impress visitors than to be comfortable.

    What’s your line of work? Nora asked.

    The woman’s mouth drooped. I’m an accountant. I’m good at it, but I hate it.

    Do you still enjoy cooking?

    I don’t know. She sounded unsure. I might.

    Nora gestured at a club chair covered in purple velvet. I’m going to put a stack of books on that cushion. I think you need to read these books. If you read every one, in order, I believe you’ll find an orange-scented, sun-filled kitchen of your own.

    Twenty minutes later, the woman left with the fox and two shopping bags of books. One bag was weighed down with cookbooks, while the other held Eric Ripert’s 32 Yolks, Joanne Harris’s Chocolat, Amy Tan’s The Joy Luck Club, Ernest Hemingway’s A Moveable Feast, Richard Morais’s The Hundred-Foot Journey, Muriel Barbery’s Gourmet Rhapsody, and Banana Yoshimoto’s Kitchen.

    Nora watched the woman walk toward the park with a light, eager step and hoped the books would do their job. If they did, the woman would make messes in her kitchen. She would buy knickknacks for her tidy, Spartan apartment. She would let her hair down and take chances. She would find joy.

    Still scanning the park square, Nora wondered where the trolley passengers had gone. The lodge’s green trolley was parked in its usual place, but no lodge guests strolled the sidewalks or meandered from the row of quaint shops on Bath Street to the Pink Lady Grill or the Gingerbread House.

    Just then, a flash of red caught Nora’s eye and she groaned inwardly as a tall, shapely woman passed in front of the bookshop window. The woman yanked the door open, ignoring the riotous clanging of the sleigh bells, and settled into the closest chair like a queen awaiting the adulation of her subjects. Her pouty lips curved into a cat-with-the-cream grin. Consider your next bibliotherapy session canceled.

    Hello to you too, Estella. Nora picked up the stray paperbacks a customer had left on the table next to Estella’s chair. I assume you’re referring to the man I met on the park bench. Why isn’t he coming? Did you scare him off?

    Me? Estella pretended to be affronted, but Nora wasn’t falling for the act. "I didn’t even get a chance to meet him. I was up at the lodge wasting my time on a man I thought had some potential, but he’s already making payments to an ex-wife and needs to send three kids to college. There’d be nothing left for me." She waved a manicured hand in dismissal.

    Nora was itching to reshelve the books and check on the coffee. Though she didn’t dislike Estella, she was rarely at ease in her company.

    Recalling the strange sensation she’d experienced as the second train whistle blew, Nora felt an inexplicable prickle of dread. She jerked a thumb toward the window. Where is everyone?

    Estella’s grin returned. At the train station. They’ve been drawn there like flies to sugar. The sheriff rolled in a few seconds ago, and since he and I have never gotten along, I made myself scarce.

    Nora, who made it a point not to look people directly in the eye, forgot her rule and gave Estella an impatient stare. What happened? Just spit it out.

    Crossing her arms in disappointment, Estella murmured something about no one being any fun, but eventually complied with Nora’s request. "When your man

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