Preview - The Club by Ellery Lloyd

The Club

Ellery Lloyd

Copyright 2022

305 Pages

We open with a dead body before chapter 1 even shows up to work. The author didn’t just drop us into the story — they shoved us face‑first into a murder scene like, “Surprise, babe!” And listen… this murder? Art. An underwater restaurant? The vibes must’ve been immaculate if you could ignore the corpses doing a slow‑motion interpretive dance overhead. Imagine paying for a luxury dining experience and getting a side of floating dead guy. Michelin who.

Anyway, welcome to Launch Weekend at Island Home Resort — a membership‑only, celebrity hideaway where the rich come to misbehave without consequences.  I love rich people behaving badly. I love rich people behaving badly in groups. I love rich people behaving badly in groups on an island. Inject it directly into my veins.

Our fearless CEO, Ned Groom, is the human embodiment of a malfunctioning smoke alarm. If anyone on Earth were to spontaneously combust from sheer rage, it’s Ned. He’s throwing tantrums like he’s auditioning for Toddlers & Tiaras: Corporate Edition. Launch Weekend prep has him vibrating at a frequency that could probably charge your phone. Read his mind, anticipate his whims, and execute flawlessly… or prepare to be vaporized.

We follow Ned, his overworked staff, and his VIP guests through a weekend of drugs, alcohol, meltdowns, secrets, blackmail, attempted murder, and probably a pool float shaped like a flamingo. You know — the standard vacation itinerary for people who have too much money and not enough supervision. Terrible for the characters, delicious for us.

Now Ned… oh, Ned. This man is playing the long game like he thinks he’s starring in a prestige HBO drama. I won’t spoil anything, but let me just say: Ned, sweetie, did you really think this plan through? I mean, clearly he thinks he did. But my prediction for how this all shakes out? Not even in the same galaxy as his.

You’re going to want to keep reading this one. It’s chaotic, it’s messy, it’s rich‑people‑shenanigans at their absolute peak — and it delivers like a gossip column with a body count.