Shannon Hale's books are the literary equivalent of a turkey dinner with all the trimmings. They're a special occasion because they only happen once or twice a year, they must be finished in one long sitting where you often feel too full at the end, and sometimes you feel sleepy when you're done. (As evidenced by my staying up late to finish the book and subsequently sleeping in this morning.) 
 There's also a marked difference between Shannon's writing for teens and her writing for adults. Her YA novels are rich and layered and deeply imaginative (sort of like the dinner part of holiday meals) and her adult novels are fluffy and sweet (much like pie). There's room for both in my belly. This metaphor is getting weird. Like Austenland and The Actor and the Housewife, there's a certain Mary Sue-ness about the story that prevents it from really getting anywhere of substance--woman cannot subsist on pie alone, as hard as she may try. (And believe me, I have.) 
 Charlotte, our not-super-plucky main character, finds herself at Pembrook Park for two weeks of whist and corsets. Charlotte is timid, nice, and recently divorced and if it weren't for the setting of the story, she might have bugged me. But stories of self-discovery aren't just for teenagers. Charlotte eventually does grow into her own, aided by a murder mystery to solve and a tempting romance. The last fifty pages or so dragged on, but I am willing to forgive Shannon of a multitude of sins. It's a worthy addition to the Pembrook Park set. If she does write more, I'm dying for the Emma story. 
 Recommended if you like Northanger Abbey and that movie The Holiday and leftover turkey sandwiches with cranberry dressing.