Ginger is on a mission to find her family’s missing fortune in glamorous Hollywood in this M!X novel from the author of Lost in London , Lost in Paris , Lost in Rome , and Lost in Ireland (formerly titled Lucky Me ). Thirteen-year-old Ginger Carlson feels like she is the only normal one in her family. Her father is an inventor who sells his gadgets online, Mom is obsessed with classic movies, and her brother Grant thinks he is from outer space. Luckily, Ginger has a totally normal BFF, Payton, and they have big plans for the future—they plan to become doctors and open a practice together in a big city. But first, they’re partnering on the state Science Olympics where they’re sure to take home the gold for their eighth grade class with their model of the brain. The Olympics training is interrupted when the Carlson family gets an urgent call that their eccentric Aunt Betty, a former actress who lives in Hollywood, is in serious trouble. The bank is going to take her house unless she can give them the money she owes. The Carlsons head to LA to sort things out for Aunt Betty, along with Payton, who tags along for the West Coast adventure. In a moment alone with the girls, Aunt Betty tells them what’s really going on. Because she didn’t trust banks, Aunt Betty stashed her money in a secret hiding place. Only problem—it’s so secret, she can’t remember where that hiding place is! That’s what she’s been doing all around town—looking for her fortune. Can Ginger and Payton help find the money—and give Aunt Betty the Hollywood ending that she deserves? Cindy Callaghan is the author of the middle grade novels Lost in London , Lost in Paris , Lost in Rome , Lost in Ireland (formerly titled Lucky Me ), Lost in Hollywood , the award-winning Sydney Mackenzie Knocks ’Em Dead , Just Add Magic (which is now a breakout streaming original series), and its sequel Potion Problems . She lives in Wilmington, Delaware. Lost in Hollywood 1 I’m a totally normal thirteen-year-old girl. For real. The problem is that I’m surrounded by weird. Dad said, “Come look at this one, Ginger.” He was talking to me. I’m Ginger. I’m named after one of my mother’s favorite old movie stars, a lady named Ginger Rogers. (Mom is totally obsessed with old movies.) I walked over to see my dad’s latest contraption; he makes things out of stuff. I looked at this Saturday’s gizmo. “What is it?” “I call it, the Drool-o-Dabbler.” “Uh-huh.” He had taken the chinstrap off my little brother’s football helmet. FYI, Grant—who’s also named after an old movie star—doesn’t use the helmet for football. He tapes balls of aluminum foil to it to help him connect with aliens who might try to talk to him. Although they never actually have; he does it “just in case.” I told ya—surrounded by weird. Anyway, Dad took the chinstrap and melted it to pipe cleaners that he’d bent like candy canes. Then, he stuffed the cup of the chinstrap with wads of gauze, like from a first aid kit. Dad hooked the pipe cleaners over his ears. “You can wear this to soak up your drool while you sleep . . . or . . . I suppose, while you’re awake, if you’re the kind of person who drools when you’re awake. I would imagine there are people like that. And it keeps your pillowcase dry, or your shirt, if you’re awake.” “I guess it would come with extra gauze pads,” I pointed out “Replacements? Sure.” “It’s . . . ah . . . great, Dad. This could be TBO.” He was always looking for The Big One (TBO). While I agreed there might be people who drool a lot in their sleep—and maybe even some when awake—I wasn’t convinced this was TBO, but it always made my dad smile when I told him that. “I’m gonna need you for the video.” “Of course.” I am always in the video. Usually my part in it said, “You know what you need?” Then I would say to someone, usually a part played by Grant, “You need a Drool-O-Dabbler.” Grant would ask, “A Drool-O-Dabbler? What’s that?” Then my dad would introduce the product and an online bidding war would begin. “War” is a bit of an exaggeration. The highest bidder buys the Dabbler. The craziest part is, there are always people who want his stuff. “Just let me know when we start filming,” I said, and went to let Grant know about our next acting gig. I knocked and opened his bedroom door. Until just recently, his room used to be our room, which was wrapped in posters of UFOs and extraterrestrials. I just had to get out of there. My new room is very pink and neat. I picked out every single thing in it: lamp, curtains, beanbag chair, etc. . . . “Greetings, Earthling,” he said. I rolled my eyes. Some girls have brothers who burp; some have brothers who punch them. I have one who thinks he’s parked at my house temporarily while he’s between intergalactic voyages. Yay me! Payton and I have said that Grant will be our first patient. Payton, btw, is my BFF and future business partner—we’re going to be brain surgeons. “You’re neede