What would you do if your life turned upside down in a New York minute?

Pink-slipped at 9 a.m. and hit by a drunk driver by midnight, 24-year-old aspiring actress, Eve Foster, moves to Manhattan where Pavlos (her 38-year-old boyfriend), lives. Just one problem. He doesn’t remember inviting her. He’s been forgetting a lot since the accident. And so, Eve arrives in New York City, ghosted. From the moment she touches down (with a broken wedding ring finger, no less), Eve’s initiation into the City that Never Sleeps is more like a hazing. From the Fashion District to Chelsea to Central Park, Eve’s efforts to make Manhattan her new home are fraught with upending encounters with the vanguard of the city. One in particular, the “Queen of Knitwear,” may just break her.

In a world drawn from Moreen Littrell’s first six months of Manhattan in the mid-1990’s, Lost in Manhattan is a riotous, cautionary tale — and roman à clef — of a wide-eyed heroine thrown into a “Sex and the City” universe. Unlike ‘insider’ Carrie Bradshaw, Eve is an outsider. Eve doesn’t know a Louboutin from a Choo.