A day in the life of Nora Blackbird? Darling, my day usually starts with one of my exasperating sisters breaking into my house with the latest wacky problem that’s going to bug me for days. Libby has too many children and a lot of time to worry about her diet (or lack thereof) and the cosmic forces of her life, and Emma is training Olympic show jumpers when she isn’t dating inappropriate men to drive me crazy.
But I can often sort out their problems by afternoon when I put on a party dress and head into the city of Philadelphia. You see, I’m a lifestyle reporter covering the social scene for a newspaper called The Philadelphia Intelligencer. (Some might call this newspaper a tabloid, and others might call it a lowdown dirty rag, but I’m trying to take the high road. Hey, they pay my salary, and heaven knows I really need that salary!) I attend parties for a living—tea parties, dinner parties, holiday galas, and fancy-dress fundraisers that benefit everything from the ballet to building a new hospital wing. It’s a peripatetic life—and I love it.
My work is fun. Who wouldn’t love to party every night? I rub elbows with Philadelphia’s high society—people I’ve known ever since I cut my teeth on my own silver spoon. While prowling the social circuit, I always see good friends . . . and a few sworn enemies. (Don’t get me started on that ratfink Jamie Scaithe.)
Of course, I can’t afford a new party dress every night. I’m living in abject poverty because my parents ran off with my trust fund (and those of my sisters, too) and I inherited Blackbird Farm—our ancestral home that hasn’t had a new roof since Ben Franklin’s day. (If you’d like to see some pictures of Blackbird Farm, go here: a tour of blackbird farm) I do my best to maintain the house before it falls down. And to pay my bills, too. I’m very lucky that Grandmama Blackbird collected some of the most beautiful clothing in the world. (Everything from Pucci print dresses to Chanel suits and the occasional Givenchy.) I raided her trunks of old clothes, and I have had her vintage clothing tailored to fit me, so I attend all those parties in the haute-est of haute couture. (If you’d like to see some of my clothes, go here: nora blackbird’s closet)
After my last party of the night, I’m likely to be picked up in a souped-up muscle car driven by—well, I hate when people say he’s the son of a mob boss. My friend Delilah Fairweather calls him my mafia prince of darkness, and I suppose that’s exactly what he is. But I think of Michael “the Mick” Abruzzo as my knight in tarnished armor. Yes, he has a skewed view of crime and police work, but I do find his opinion very helpful.
Why do I need help? You’d be surprised to hear how much murder and mayhem happens on the Philadelphia Main Line, and I’m often drawn into solving crimes among the rich and famous. In my latest adventure, I’m mixed up with the cast of a new Toodles Tuttle Broadway musical, who are rehearsing at their Bucks County mansion. It’s A LITTLE NIGHT MURDER!
Needless to say, it’s a glamorous life. Most of the time. At other times, I’m wrestling a pig. No kidding.
If you’d like to see some photos of a day in my life, click here: a day in the life of nora blackbird.
You can read more about Nora in A Little Night Murder, the 10th book in the “Blackbird Sisters” mystery series, published by Obsidian. The first book in the series is How to Murder a Millionaire.
GIVEAWAY: Leave a comment by 6 p.m. eastern on August 7 for the chance to win a copy of LITTLE BLACK BOOK OF MURDER. (US entries only, please.)
Meet the author
Nancy Martin is the author of nearly fifty popular fiction novels in various genres—mystery, romance, historical and suspense. She has written ten Blackbird Sisters mysteries that feature Nora Blackbird and her wacky sisters. Nancy lives in Pennsylvania.
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