TWV B-7: THE HEAD TRIP

Genre: Contemporary Romance
Title: THE HEAD TRIP
Word Count: 76,000

Query:

Ballsy Los Angeles publicist Lettie Gold has the kind of life plenty of women fantasize about, studded with red carpet events and celebrity clients. But when her musician fiancé David abruptly breaks things off at his shrink’s suggestion and heads for New York, her life splinters into a thousand glittery pieces.

Since David won’t take her calls, Lettie’s left with no choice but to track down her man in person. And she only has six days to do it—he’s leaving the country for a soul-searching trip to Europe.

Lettie takes to the road with a most unexpected passenger riding shotgun: Dr. J. Preston, the very same psychiatrist who talked David into ditching her. With a few coincidences on her side and one tiny lie of omission, Lettie hoodwinks the bookish young doctor into coming along. Stuck in a car together for all those hours, she’ll have plenty of time to make him understand how perfect she and David are for each other. By the time they get to Manhattan, she’s sure he’ll be only too happy to help her make things right.

Lettie makes plenty of wrong turns along the way. But each one brings her closer to seeing how lost she’s been all along. With so many setbacks, she’s no longer sure they can make it to New York before the clock runs out—or, if she still wants to.

The love Lettie finds waiting for her in Manhattan will have been well worth toughing her way across the country for. It just might not be with the man she had in mind…

THE HEAD TRIP will appeal to fans of funny, contemporary romance such as Sophie Kinsella’s Can You Keep A Secret, Jennifer Crusie’s Bet Me, and She Went All the Way by Meg Cabot.

First 250 words:

Lettie tipped the last bitter swallow of coffee into her mouth and scowled at her mug’s brown-stained, grain-speckled bottom. There was no mournful sadness like an empty coffee cup. She glanced at the time on her laptop, which sat fired up on the bed with the Skype window open. Six fifty-seven a.m. Not enough time to brew more, even though she needed it. Badly. The two coats of mascara she’d hastily swept on earlier felt like Maybelline’s exclusive new lash-thickening formula of concrete and lead.

Maybe she looked better than she felt. With a few mouse-clicks, Lettie activated her laptop’s camera so she could preview what David would see on video chat.

Oh, dear God. Her under-eye bags looked packed for a weekend getaway, and the pimple on her chin was in a whole different altitude region.

For at least the dozenth time since waking, Lettie wished she could crawl back under the covers. But she missed David too much to blow her one chance all day to talk privately. By the time she got home from work it would be the middle of the night in Berlin. Breezing in late to the office wasn’t an option, either. There was nothing her fellow celebrity publicists at Last Word did better than spread gossip—about their clients and each other.

Lettie sighed and adjusted the lap top screen for a full body view. At least her cleavage looked good. She torqued to the left and scrutinized her profile. Damn good, actually.