Destined for Madrid, a travel writer anxiously anticipates signing a lucrative book contract and gorging on tapas. All at 4 a.m. Her salacious publisher with tentacles for arms is simply a distraction. She prefers her squid dead and plated. Her radiant smile, which conjures up Nina Simone's elegance, always got her foot in the door within the competitive world of journalism. Her Joyful Drake curves navigated her straight into editors' and reporters' beds after the last call. What she needs now, more than anchovies on her breath (and chorizo inside her channel) is an air of confidence, like that of a torera who takes no bull. Getting gored one rejection letter at a time takes its toll on a writer. Until receiving the Spaniard's offer for an all-expenses-paid trip to Madrid to sign the book contract, she was seeing red. Just when she's ready to get her sangria on, a bizarre case of turbulence puts a few dents in her plans – and in the plane. What ensues among the clouds has her raising more than a penciled eyebrow. A surreal, erotic caper.