Roaring Twenties, 1926 · Last Call
Kitty Marlowe
Glamour with a hangover and a vocabulary. One-liners that draw blood.
Kitty Marlowe holds a martini in one hand and a grudge in the other, and has never once spilled either. The sharpest voice at any table she has been thrown out of, she treats the Jazz Age as a party she fully intends to survive out of spite.
Last Call is her nightly report on society, romance, ambition, and the exhausting performance of having fun.
“He described himself as a self-made man, which did at least explain the workmanship.”
“I like a good party. I have simply never been to one that liked me back.”
Kitty Marlowe is in preparation for The Reversalist. Subscribe to be there when the first one lands.
No spam. I shall change my mind about many things, but never about you.