While I am not at BlogHer Con this weekend I know that for the women that are there it's a special time. For two days they will be with women like themselves - women who put themselves out there, who share a passion for writing, women who take chances and are trailblazers. Times like that are magical and we always remember the magical moments in our past. Sometimes, if we are lucky, we get more than a magical moment. Sometimes we get a magical summer. I think we all have a summer that we look back on, the one that no matter what happens in the future that summer will always be special.

Maybe it was a summer of romance. Or one of friendship and laughter. For Marjorie Hart her magic happened the summer of 1945.

Summer at Tiffany is a simply written, engaging look back at this magic summer. Written sixty years later if feels as fresh as if she were writing it at that very time. The summer of 1945 Marjorie and her best friend Marty, at the urging of their fellow sorority sisters, found themselves in New York City. Three of their fellow Kappa Kappa Gamma's had gotten summer jobs at Lord & Taylor's and assured them they would have no trouble getting one as well. That didn't exactly work out as planned. After being turned away from Lord and Taylor and several other stores Marty decided that they were going to march into Tiffany and get themselves a job. It paid off. Not only did they get jobs at Tiffany, Marjorie and Marty became the first women to ever work on the sales floor.

As magic a place as Tiffany is Marjorie's summer was about more than diamonds and riches. Truth be told, she didn't make a lot of money working there. But she and Marty eked out enough money for some fun. They were at Eisenhower's parade with millions of others. When a plane crashed into the Empire State Building Marjorie rushed downtown. And, of course, the world was still at war in 1945. Marjorie was in Times Square when the official announcement of peace was displayed on Times Tower.

"A thunderous roar rose from the crowd. Church bells pealed, air-raid sirens wailed, cars honked, tugboats tooted, firecrackers exploded, and people cheered as confetti and paper fell from the windows. Near men, an old main threw his cane in the air.

An army private kissed every girl he could find. Including me. Streams of tears rand down the cheeks of an elderly woman as she watched the words circling the tower".

And what would a tale of Tiffany, New York City, and a magic summer be without a bit of romance?

"My guy. I leaned against the back of the chair with "That Old Black Magic" - the song for our last dance - going round in my head. I noticed him immediately with we walked in. Who wouldn't? The other gals certainly did, the way they sidled up to him without any shame - out-and-out flirting! He looked like Jimmy Stewart in The Philadelphia Story the way a lock of dark hair would fall over his forehead. When he approached me, I almost fell face-forward onto the dance floor."

Luckily for us romance is not limited to the 1940s. Renee of Renee's book of the Day posted last November a tale of her own romantic moment at New York City's Tiffany.

That was when I knew I had been duped into believing that Monday morning was my idea. It was also when I knew whatever was going to happen was going to be good.

-----------------
Quotations taken from the William Morrow 2007 hardcover edition, pages, 215 and 84-85 respectively.
Contributing Editor Sassymonkey also blogs at Sassymonkey and Sassymonkey Reads.