My new romantic comedy, Secondhand Love, comes out on September 7.
It's the story of Zoe, who doesn't quite believe true love will ever happen for her. Until, of course, it does in a way she least expected it to.
Here's a conversation she has with her roommate and best friend, Bella, at the start of the book. She's just told Bella about the pitch she's going to make to her editor at the magazine where she works. For a new column about breakups:
Leave it to my roommate to knock the wind, or water, or enthusiasm, right out of my idea with the simple wave of a nail polish brush. "It's too depressing, Zoe. I mean, do you think people will really want to read about breaking up?"
"Of course they will. You love hearing about my bad dates and crazy exes." I raised my eyebrows in triumph because it was true. Bella would listen to all my stories as long as I provided the chardonnay.
"That's because I'm trying to help you," she answered without an ounce of sarcasm. "By the way, what happened with Ryan?"
Case in point, the night before Bella had fixed me up with a client of her fiancé’s, a stockbroker who made the Wolves of Wall Street look like a puppy pack. I groaned. "He took me to the Palm, ordered up some fifty-dollar steaks and then spent the whole night with his ear glued to his cell phone. I think he should have asked the phone out to dinner."