Quinn Coleman

Okay I won’t lie, that’s a terrible title for this newsletter, but I couldn’t figure out a better one…

Most recently, I got to be part of a great book event, where I met some wonderful authors and fellow creators. I learned a lot from others–including what I wanted to bring to future events (like stickers and prints) how to better promote events (like on this newsletter *dusts off cobwebs* don’t mind those…)

I certainly could have done a better job talking about where I’ll be next, what I’ll have with me, and what projects I’m working on.

But that’s how we learn!

My next event will be in August, to celebrate book 4 ‘Suspended’ in The Masc Narrative.

This event in August will be my very first solo author event.
It’s a practice in allowing myself to celebrate reaching a goal post, and not just acknowledging it and moving onto the next.

4 books out of 7 is something to absolutely celebrate. We’re crossing over halfway.

To say I’m excited is…
Oof.

It’s going to be a wonderful celebration.

So I thought it could be a bit fun to show off a snippet of chapter 2, when we first get Simeon’s POV.

‘Suspended’ is different than all the others in this series–let alone in all the ones I’ve published so far.

I’ve had different types of dual POV books, such as Taron’s voice mixed with Aleese’s journal entries, or Kevin’s voice blended with Toby’s letters.
But this will be the first one that is entirely dual voices, Ben and Simeon. I’m thrilled to see how this one does.

We get right into it, with Simeon back at his college campus, Hugh Conrad.
And what better place to have an introduction than in the confines of something like an elevator…?

So without further ado…here is Chapter 2 of ‘Suspended’.

-2-
Simeon

Well, Simeon, we’ve certainly looked better, haven’t we?

Squinting at my reflection in the gold metal lift doors, waiting an eternity for them to open, I shake my head. Before I went home for the summer holiday, I buzzed my hair and went back to being a typical brunet. Once it got to a good length—curling over my brow the way I like—I dyed the top white again.

And then I promptly slept on it funny in an airplane seat and have a cowlick the size of Mam’s vegetable garden.

I attempt to brush a hand through my hair, but the strands desperately need something better than dry shampoo after an impossibly long red eye flight. My fingers bump something hidden on top.

“Oh.” I smirk and pull out my glasses. “That’s where you’ve been hiding.” Then I tuck them back in, where I’ll most likely lose them again immediately. As if I’ll ever learn.

My hair is the worst of my worries; I’m still in dingy clothes from the airport this morning: ripped jeans, ancient trainers, and a baggy jumper tied around my waist.

The lift doors open after a million years, and out comes Maurice, tan and beautiful as ever.

“My boy!” he yells, scooping me into a hug. He’s a senior and on our lacrosse team and will break legs—has broken legs, accidentally, of course—but he’s one of the sweetest men that I know.

I accept the hug with a grunt when he pops my lower back. “Ey up, greetings, love you, now move. I’ve waited for this lift for half my life and I’m prepared to pass out until term starts.”

He laughs and sweeps his hand out for me dramatically, and I curtsy and lug all my luggage and guitar case past him and into the lift. “Then by all means, go, drop off your five hundred bags.”

He holds the doors open with his hand, though they make no move to close. “Also, party tonight, my house. Trevor is making tacos.”

“Ooh, Trevor tacos, we’ll be there. Give him a kiss from me.”

“I’ll give him many,” he winks, darting off. I hit floor fifteen, but the doors remain open. I tap the close button. Nothing. As long as it took to get here, you think the lift would be in more of a hurry.

I sigh and roll my eyes up. There’s an ancient sticky hand stuck to the ceiling…

I set down my guitar and pull my phone out to tell Jackson I’m heading up and there’s a party tonight. He replies with a dozen hearts and a chicken emoji for some reason, and I click to my texts with Russell; I let him know I made it to campus and got my keys and such.

1:34PM [Darling] Yay, good! Let me know when you’re down for a call, we’re excited to hear about your new semester.

Never did change his name in my phone.

The doors creak and rattle and begin to ooze closed, and I tell Russell I’ll have time this weekend. He replies with a kissing face, and I put my phone up. The reflection of the doors shows there’s a cream cheese stain on my t-shirt. Lovely.

They’re inches from closing when there’s a rush of dress shoes on the tile. I hold in a whine of frustration. No, no, c’mon, let me just—

A deep voice calls out, “Hold it, please.”

Dammit, fine. My hand swings up and slaps between the lift doors right as another hand does the same thing; our knuckles collide and the doors bounce open, and I…

I no longer know how to properly function.

One of Mam’s romance novel heroes must have come to life and decided he wanted to attend HCU. The student in front of me might as well be a different breed of human.

His dark hair matches his suit, white shirt unbuttoned to his collarbone where a gold cross sits and catches the crummy lift lighting.

He’s tall, strapping, over-dressed and painfully gorgeous.

I can’t look away from his light green, almost silver eyes, lined with thick lashes that would make any makeup artist jealous. As lovely as the color is, there’s a distance behind them, made more obvious by the heavy circles underneath. Something in the way they stare at me, unblinking and all-seeing, makes me fidget.

I force a smile. “Ey.”

His thick neck moves with a hard swallow. “Hi.”

Both our hands remain raised, holding the lift doors open on either side. I tilt my head. “Weren’t you ahead of us in the queue?” I ask.

His eye twitches once. “Yes. I was.” Then he looks to his side; a flush creeps up from the back of his neck. “I went the wrong way.”

I shrug with another tight smile. “Happens to the best of us. Benjamin, right?”

“Just Ben.”

“Are you going to get on?” I ask. His jaw works repeatedly and he releases a loud sigh through his nose; there’re faint scars on his otherwise perfect skin. He analyzes me, top of my head to my trainers, cream cheese stain and all. “I won’t bite, I promise,” I add, trying to laugh.

The lift suddenly starts shrieking, startling us both. Ben’s shoulders go instantly rigid. “I’m afraid we’ve angered the lift by keeping it open. Why don’t you get on?”

“Right,” he mumbles, stooping through the doors in his nice suit with his single bag. Gracious, right next to me, he really is a cut above the rest. I’m tall at six feet, but he’s got at least four inches on me, especially in his dress shoes. “Can you hit…oh. Floor fifteen.” He clears his throat. “Great.”

And there we stand in total, awkward silence.

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I’m so ready for this book to launch August 14th.

Keep an eye out for information on ARC forms in the near future!

Last but not least…

A call for reviews!

I’m ending things a little differently here–

Recently, I read a newsletter from an author I like, and when I reached the bottom of the email, I saw them asking for reviews.
And I thought…
Why had I never done that!?

So here I am.

An author,

asking you…

a reader…

to leave a review.

If you’ve read one of my books–whether it’s ex-best friends, zombies, or my series–and you enjoyed it (or even if you didn’t!) please feel free to leave a review for it on Amazon or GoodReads!

Reviews aren’t just for me, but to help readers determine their next best read.

You can find my GoodReads HERE, and my Amazon HERE for leaving a review.

I can’t wait to get the next book out and share Ben and Simeon with the world!

Cheers, talk with y’all soon!

-Quinn