Author Nora Ephron Novels & Stories

She opened her laptop. She did not write about scandals or billionaires. She did not write about the weight of a diamond ring. She wrote about the sound of a turning in a lock. She wrote about the taste of coffee in the morning. She wrote about the peace of knowing that every word on the page was finally hers. She hit save. The cursor was blinking like a heartbeat in the silence of the warehouse. The story of Nora Vale was a bestseller.. The story of Elena Vane was a work in progress.

And she wanted to. — A loud bang snapped her back to reality. “Nora!” The room spun. “Shit!” Nora jolted upright in her chair. The memory faded away like a whip. Her breath came fast. Her throat was dry. The past still clung like ash on her tongue. Across the table, Kire Norman—her fifty-nine-year-old secretary—stood with her arms folded and a glare sharp enough to cut stone. “What the fuck is your problem, Kire?” Nora rasped, pushing her fingers through her hair. She wasn’t angry. Not really. Her voice just came out raw. Because pain like that doesn’t knock, it barges in, like everything else.

** Three days later ** Nora was busy on her laptop and she took a bite from her apple. Since she is not allowed to leave the house without a tangible reason, she does all her business online. Nora owns a high school in New York, a supermarket and one of the largest cosmetics in New York. She controls them by constant messaging to her secretary and P.A. Richard doesn't allow her to leave his house for any reason, she just sits at home for hours busy on her laptop.

Nora had closed it deliberately. For about ten minutes they talked about nothing in particular — a mutual friend's new apartment, a show Ashley had started watching and was already three episodes into. Nora ate and let herself just be in the room. Then she set her slice down on the box lid and rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand. Ashley looked at her immediately. "What is it?" "I need to tell you something." Nora kept her eyes on the table. "I got an email today. From the grant."

The connected call only carried the sounds of Jaime Walter and Derek Surrey’s pleasure. She did not seem to hear what I said. After an impatient click of her tongue, she hung up. I lowered my arms and stared at my mother’s decomposed body. My strength felt completely drained. Derek then sent me a series of messages. When I opened them, I saw videos of the two of them having sex that night. Their intimate sounds filled the room. Derek smiled in the video and asked Jaime, “You really are not giving him the miracle drug?”

“Don’t change the subject. Tell us what’s going on with you and Mr. Tall, Dark, and Dangerous.” I groaned, burying my face in the pillow. “You two are impossible.” “That’s true,” Grace said cheerfully. “Now talk.” Their expectant silence was suffocating. Finally, I sat up, exhaling in defeat. “Fine. There’s… something between us. I don’t know what to call it. A connection. When I’m near him, it feels like my whole being is pulled toward him. Like something old and powerful tying us together.” Veronica’s brows arched, amused. Grace’s lips curled in a knowing smile.

She wrote that she had a lawyer now who had explained that the standard needed to be applied to her situation and that the process would take time. She wrote one sentence at the end that I read three times. She wrote: I wanted you to know that someone is reading what you write and it is reaching them. I put the letter in the notebook. The back section. The names. Gerald. Robert Calder. Dani. Elena Torres. Amara Mensah. Now Kwame. People for whom the argument had been the difference between the right existing and the right reaching them. The right that reaches you. Nora's title for a reason.

Thankfully, the introduction was not something I promised, I just agreed with the idea at the time. Nora and I make our way to the meeting room. Nora takes notes and everytime someone asks how she writes as a former slave. She tells them she was taught by an angel. She won’t tell them it was the former princess because no one would believe her. Emmett and Iris join us. The meeting is long and boring and I’m thankful when it’s over.

she scolded, pointing at my phone. As if I had any desire to become a bride in the first place. Thankfully, this was all just a façade. Still, I shot back, “My phone has nothing to do with this, and I wasn’t distracted. You just surprised me, that’s all.” “If your phone truly had nothing to do with your distraction, then you would have noticed me when I came in. So give it here,” Nora demanded, extending her hand. Shocked, I exclaimed, “Excuse me? What the hell?”

"You should probably be aware that Nora is straight. She did Calculus in high school, but no tennis and no dates wearing skirts. No dates for Homecoming or Prom. She is not a virgin, she knows the basic moves, but even in college she prioritized studies over sex. When she got an itch she had a few study friends that did the job, but they had to measure up to her academic standards first." Next I called Nancy. She was very busy from today until the convention, busy enough that she was ignoring the whole New Year thing. She actually sounded excited about what she was working on, but she had a lot to do. I said I might have a one-shot visit overnight, somebody I knew. She was fine with that, as