A Crazy Little Thing Called Death by Nancy Martin

By Nancy Martin

Nora Blackbird has made the society pages another time. The impoverished Philadelphia heiress has agreed to wed Mick Abruzzo, son of latest Jersey's such a lot infamous mobster-if he can live to tell the tale the Blackbird Curse. each time a Blackbird sister remarries, the groom is sure to die...

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I, of course, remembered him from our teenage years, when he wore jeans and T-shirts like everyone else, and had a taste for good food even then. He had carefully created a ranked list of the best pizzas, and for Best in the City chose a pie with fresh mozzarella over heirloom tomatoes and fresh basil from a Little Italy kitchen he had sussed out all on his own. He took another healthy chomp out of the cheesesteak. ” “My sister’s playing hostess,” he admitted after a swallow. “It’s all the Saks personal shoppers she loves so much.

Then she turned and saw me. “I’m okay,” she called. ” “She’s with me,” Michael said. The playful child with blond curls and the pink tutu made a picture standing beside him—a tall and hulking man with a face better suited for a dockyard than a polo match. Neither one of them belonged at today’s posh event. Lucy was a kindergarten delinquent, and Michael had probably been one, too. Now he had more sex appeal than six Main Line lacrosse players. His shoulders were delicious, and he had a walk that was both tight and slouchy and often made me think I should wash out my brain with a bar of soap.

And Potty could afford it. He had built his father’s corner drugstore into a pharmaceutical conglomerate worth at least the value of a moderately prosperous Caribbean island. Always focused on the family business or having a good time, he’d dismissed his famous sister, Penny, as unimportant. Now, it seemed, he didn’t take her death to heart, either. I smiled and considered asking him flat out how he knew his sister was really gone this time. I might have tried if we’d been alone. ” He gave me a clumsy, cousinly hug, beaming.

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