Intrigued? Read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from Rolls and Rivalry by Kristy Boyce, which is out now.

Questing for love . . .

Hazel Buchanan has her senior year mapped out: Win respect as color guard captain, kick off her first D&D campaign, and steer clear of distractions. But her plan takes a critical hit when Max—her former best friend and longtime crush—returns to town with drumsticks in hand and an unexplained chip on his shoulder.

Hazel and Max can’t help bickering every time they’re together, and thanks to meddling parents, he’s invading her D&D game too. As Dungeon Master, she’s ready to shut him down, but D&D has a way of bringing people together like nothing else. Is this rivalry masking something more? With dice rolling and emotions spinning, Hazel might be in for more than she planned . . .

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Intrigued? Read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from Seconds to Spare by Rachel Reiss, which releases on May 12th 2026.

Eighteen-year-old Evelyn Werth is trapped in what feels like a never-ending nightmare. She’s the only person onboard Aloha Airways Flight 1333 who’s stuck in a 28-minute time loop, one that repeats over and over again. During each loop, four things always happen:

1. The Internet goes out and the pilot warns of upcoming turbulence.
2. There are five minutes of moderate shaking.
3. A woman in the very last row collapses.
4. The plane tilts forward and begins to nosedive.

When Orion James –the cute boy who’s been asleep the entirety of each cycle– wakes, it triggers an alarming change in the events Evelyn has come to count on. As the two grow closer and learn to trust each other, they discover there’s more to the loop than they initially realized. They must find the hidden clues, piece together the moving puzzle, and save everyone onboard –before it’s too late.

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Intrigued? Read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from Like A Brother by Nathanael Lessore, which releases on May 7th 2026.

They’re totally different. Except in all the ways that matter.

Owais lives a chill life. He’s well-liked, funny and everything’s a breeze – until his estranged cousin shows up.

Loud, unpredictable and one bad decision away from serious trouble, Abass crashes into Owais’ laidback world like a hurricane: picking fights, ruining parties, disappearing without explanation and clogging toilets in places he absolutely shouldn’t.

But as the boys get to know each other and their bond deepens, Owais starts to see there’s more to Abass than the chaos – and more to himself than just being the popular guy who coasts through life. Because sometimes, the person who turns your world upside down is also the person who helps you figure out where you’re really meant to be . . .

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The post Read An Excerpt From ‘Like A Brother’ by Nathanael Lessore appeared first on The Nerd Daily.

Intrigued? Read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from She Knows All the Names by Michelle Jabès Corpora, which releases on May 5th 2026.

Fresh to the throne, the cunning new pharaoh schemes to bring unprecedented power to the Kingdom of Khetara. He commands absolute allegiance, leaving bloodshed in his wake as he searches for the missing Princess Sitamun, and at his side, the young priestess Nefermaat serves as divine counsel. Having witnessed the king’s merciless acts, Neff furtively plots to free the kingdom from his grip, though she knows the heavy price of treason.

Meanwhile, the rebellion in Low Khetara grows, and Raetawy, a courageous farm girl, leads the resistance. Her quest is clear: infiltrate the capital and free the imprisoned rebels—including her beloved father. Yet in her desperation, Rae agrees to a plan that could destroy all she is fighting for….

In the Red Lands, the thief Karim grapples with the new life he’s been given. Is it a blessing or a curse? He fears what lurks within him, yet he and his unlikely companion, Princess Sita, grow ever closer as they search for a lost city believed to harbor the secret to saving Khetara from destruction.

The ancient oracle that once whispered to these four strangers now speaks with an urgency as powerful as the mighty Iteru. The current of destiny is strengthening, but will it bring redemption…or annihilation?

Prologue

WINGS

If only he’d been looking up at the world instead of down at his feet, he’d have seen it coming.

The ibis had been poking about in the dense papyrus thickets, dipping his needle-­sharp beak into the river, quick-­quick, hunting for fish. He was a disheveled bird, his moon-­colored body and jumble of black tail feathers giving the impression that he cared very little about appearances.

But he did preen. Every morning…

They neither heard the rustle of men in the thicket nor felt the water tremble with the men’s approach.

Then: a splash. Close. Very close.

The ibis raised his head, his long, slender neck bending into a question. He murmured, low and wondering, before another splash turned his wonder to alarm.

Fly away! Fly away! the ibis opened his beak to cry.

Too late. A guttural call broke the silence, and as the flock opened its wings in unison to take flight, a net fell upon them, dragging them back down.

Panicked, the ibis flapped and struggled as the net drew tighter and tighter still, until he found himself pressed up against the other birds in a writhing mass of flesh and feathers…

Over the frightened yelps of his brethren, the ibis heard a man speak.

“Did you hear what happened?” the man said. “One of the fishermen told me.”

The other man grunted and spit on the ground. “Better not to speak of it.”

The first man, ignoring his companion’s advice, continued. “He said he’d arrived from south of Bubas and saw something strange flowing downriver. Never would have believed it if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes. What do you think it means?”

“That’s for the priests to decide. We have our work; they have theirs.”

“I think it means change is coming to Khetara,” the first man said, undeterred. “Just as the pharaoh said it would! Don’t you remember his speech? ‘The forgotten floodgates of power’? ‘The currents of war’?”

There was a pause. “Perhaps.”

The ibis was pressed against one of his flock mates, and felt his heart racing beneath wet plumage. A moment later, the net was set on hard, sandy ground.

“You don’t agree?” the first man asked.

“I agree that the sooner we process these birds, the sooner we can go home.”

With that, the net loosened. There was a cry and flapping of wings as a bird was pulled out, and then a sharp snap.

The ibis’s own heart quickened with horror.

“How can you be so cynical?” the first man asked as another bird was lifted from the net. “Everyone I know is excited about King Meryamun! He has great plans for the kingdom! All of Thonis is suffused with hope!”

“Hope and foolishness are neighbors, my friend,” the second man said. “It is all too easy to enter the wrong house.”

Snap.

Suddenly, the struggle to reach the opening of the net reversed, and the captured birds began fighting to get away from the men’s grasping hands. The ibis found himself being shoved to the top, until he could see the growing pile of limp feathered bodies on the ground nearby.

“Pah!” the first man scoffed, reaching for the bird directly above the ibis and pulling it free. “Our entire business is based on hope! Hope that our mummified ibises will cure our customers’ ills, grant their wishes, and bring Thoth’s favor upon them in the Duat. Without hope, people wouldn’t buy, and we would have nothing.”

“Perhaps the new king will rule as he claims,” the second man said. “Perhaps this omen is a good one. But hope is a poor replacement for preparation. Keep your eyes open, my friend. The gods help those who help themselves.” The ibis watched as the man snapped his flock mate’s neck with one swift motion and tossed its corpse onto the pile.

He felt the shadow of death fall over him.

Then a new scent met his nostrils, riding the wind. It was bitter and strange—­and it gave the ibis courage.

The man reached back into the net, groping for a throat to squeeze.

Not today! the ibis crowed with a surge of ferocity. I will not die today!

He stabbed his beak into the flesh of the man’s palm—­once, twice, quick-­quick. Blood fountained from the wound, and the hand jerked away. The man loosed a string of curses, and before his companion could close the net, the ibis launched himself into the air.

The strange-­smelling wind lifted him up, away from angry words and reaching hands, away from his doomed brethren. He wheeled south, the mouth of the river and the green sea at his back, flying past farms and villages until he reached a great white city.

The ordeal transformed the ibis’s hunger into near starvation, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to fly much longer without stopping for food. Below, he saw a lush walled garden with a pond at its center. The garden lay in the shadow of a massive structure, and although the ibis could see many people flowing in and out of it, the garden itself appeared to be deserted.

Even better, he could see the silvery flash of scales beneath the pond’s surface.

When he got closer, however, the ibis saw that he’d been mistaken. There was someone in the garden.

A girl and a cat were hidden among the rosebushes by the pond. The girl was reedy, hairless, and plumed in blue. Her bare feet were in the water, and she was muttering quietly to herself, over and over, like birdsong. Powerful energy emanated from her. Dangerous energy. It didn’t carry the lethal intent of the men who had captured the ibis’s flock, but it held dark portents. As if sensing the bird’s presence, the girl looked up. Surprisingly, her face was kind.

The striped cat looked up at him too, the pupils of her golden eyes widening. And although she looked old, the ibis could see the cat’s teeth were still as sharp as ever.

Death had nearly gotten him once already. It would be foolish to tempt fate a second time. The ibis clacked his beak in frustration and turned away.

He sailed past the garden and the buildings teeming with life and crossed to the other side of the river, the quiet side, where stone giants rose from an ocean of sand. The ibis had no strength left to hunt. He needed to eat and not become food for another. But where could he find an easy meal?

Movement attracted his attention. A single line of men, laden with goods, marched from a sailboat down into a valley inland from the river. The salty smell of fish wafted up from them, so the ibis decided to follow. With any luck, he could snatch up a bite or two without being noticed.

Sailing past the line of men, the ibis dipped down into the valley and alighted on a flat-­topped acacia tree. From that vantage point, he could see many people at work, talking among themselves, piling food and all manner of strange things, and going in and out of a hole in the valley wall like ants. Strangest of all were the bald men huddling over a great many human corpses, efficiently disemboweling them one by one before filling them with white sand.

One of the men overseeing the gruesome work caught the ibis’s eye. He was birdlike himself, his nose beakish, his plumage as dingy and plain as the ibis’s own. Even his nest of black hair was reminiscent of the ibis’s tangle of tail feathers. The birdlike man walked to one of the bald-­headed ones and said, “How much longer? We must get through the mummification rituals today, or these people will not be ready for the funeral. My father will be laid to rest in fewer than seventy days; his court must be prepared to join him in the tomb.”

The bald man wiped perspiration from his brow. “Apologies, Prince Bakenamun. We were not expecting these…” He paused. “These sacred dead. There are so many of them, and you know the rituals take time. We are going as quickly as we can.”

The birdlike man blinked, his irritation changing to remorse. “Of course, of course. It is I who should apologize. You and the other priests are doing your best; I should not have addressed you so sharply. We are all…adjusting to the new king’s doctrine.” He frowned. “But where is Montuhotep? Should he not be here supervising your work? I have been busy inside the tomb, directing the painters and engravers.”

The bald man cleared his throat. “The master says he is ill. He has taken to his bed, and I do not know when he will be well enough to attend to his duties here.”

The birdlike man ran a hand through his unruly hair, making it even messier. “For the love of Amun, must I do everything?” he muttered.

While they spoke, the ibis noted the other men had lain down their burdens and were returning to the boat, leaving the food unattended. This was his chance!

Fluttering down from his perch, the ibis landed before a delicious-­smelling package tied with twine. He deftly untied the rope with his beak and pulled back a corner of the fabric to reveal a treasure trove of dried fish. He was about to grab as many as he could carry when he was startled by a voice behind him.

“Lost your flock, have you, Sacred One?” the birdlike man asked, having left the bald-­headed men to their work.

The ibis froze on the brink of flight, his hunger battling with his fear. But the man didn’t lunge or try to kick him away. Instead, he said, “Go ahead. Take the fish.” A sad smile touched his lips. “I know it’s not easy being alone.”

Unable to believe his luck, the ibis scooped four fish into his mouth and launched into the air, his wings beating hard to accommodate the extra weight. Once he cleared the valley wall, he found a safe place to land and gobbled up the fish, quick-­quick, before another animal could get a whiff of them.

He felt better almost immediately.

But in place of his hunger came sorrow. The birdlike man was right. He was alone.

What was the ibis without his brethren? They had acted as one organism, moving in a comfortable ritual that repeated over and over, day after day. He had no idea what to do or where to go now that his flock was gone.

His sorrow sharpened into despair.

Perhaps it would have been better to die with them.

Not true. Not true. If he was his flock, and his flock was him, then within himself the ibis held all that remained of his brethren. He must live on, so that they too could live. He would find a new flock—­yes, yes. Then all would be right again.

With this in mind, he took to the air once more, heading for the river, scanning the skies for birds in flight. I am alone now, but it will not always be so, not always, the ibis assured himself.

As he traveled south, he glanced down at the river and saw an unusual sight. Men, women, and children had gathered along its banks and were staring at the water. Some were silent. Others exclaimed in wonder and dismay. It was only when the ibis coasted out of the glare of the sun that he saw what they were seeing.

Usually blue-­green in color, the river was turning crimson. The red waters flowed north, powerful, ominous, and very, very wrong.

A whisper of the ibis’s earlier terror returned.

Over the amalgamated shouts of the people, one woman’s voice climbed the western wind and reached him.

“Beware!” the woman cried. “The Great River of Khetara has turned to blood!”

Excerpted from She Knows All the Names by Michelle Jabès Corpora, Copyright © 2026 by Michelle Jabès Corpora LLC Published by Sourcebooks Fire

The post Read An Excerpt From ‘She Knows All the Names’ by Michelle Jabès Corpora appeared first on The Nerd Daily.

Ivy continues to be an excellent protagonist and her character growth from the start of The Rose Bargain to the end of The Thorn Queen is spectacular. She is loving, passionate and determined to pursue justice no matter the cost. That naivety has well and truly been shattered by the ordeals she has faced and the grief that motivated her in the first book is complicated in the second. She is now driven by wanting to change the fate of the world and correct the mistakes she has made. For me, she is such an endearing and persistent character that you root for. I also enjoyed her dynamic with Lydia and how that moves throughout the book. It flips certain aspects on their head and brings a new texture to the story. I loved how at its heart this is a story about sisterhood and the complicated bonds between Ivy and Lydia. That dynamic is the beating heart of the duology and it can be fraught and full of secrets. Despite it all, you can feel the love the two of them share and how determined they are to protect the other. We get more layers to that relationship here and it deepens the story started in The Rose Bargain. Also, the new narrators in this story are inspired choices and offer new insights on previously held secrets.

The Thorn Queen takes us into new places and continues that darker territory of The Rose Bargain. I loved the expansion of the geography and settings of this world, we get to find new places and learn more about the history and mythos of the fae. This world is fascinating but every choice has a consequence and some of them are deadly. It delivers a wild ride of a story and there are plenty of twists and turns along the way. The Rose Bargain dripped blood but this oozes it. The stakes have gotten higher and the fates of worlds are in play now. It is a dark story that ups the tension and we delve into some very heavy topics, so do be aware of that while reading. In particular, it explores coercive control, manipulation and abusive relationships in really interesting and considered ways through this fantasy lens. The monsters here are recognisable in our own lives and I hope this reaches the readers who need it.

Peyton Smith nails that tricksy nature of the fae of legends. They can be impassive spectators of suffering or malevolent tricksters that are amused by it. That sense of complicity in violence and suffering is something that Ivy struggles with and I enjoyed the way we explored the nuances of living in this new kingdom, while also looking at how the effects rippled out across the population. The actions that characters took in book one have tangible consequences here and they must face the mistakes they made. It still has the beauty and glamour of the court and balls, but the mask is firmly off. The gilded cage’s bars are visible and Ivy must work to break them once and for all.

The Thorn Queen epitomises the excellence of sequels with an evolution of The Rose Bargain in characters, world-building and politics. It expands the fire started in the first book and builds to a wonderful conclusion.

The Thorn Queen is available from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Bookshop.org, and other good book retailers, like your local bookstore.

Will you be picking up The Thorn Queen? Tell us in the comments below!

Synopsis

Bridgerton, The Selection, and The Cruel Prince collide in this Victorian-inspired romantasy; the sequel to the instant New York Times bestseller The Rose Bargain.

Having won the hand of the faerie King Bram, Ivy is now Queen of England.

But with his ascension to the throne, Bram unleashed the fae into the human world. After hundreds of years of being kept from their favorite playthings, the Others are looking to make up for lost time—and they do, with wicked revelry that sweeps through the country.

To survive, Ivy acts the sweet, devoted wife. Behind the smile, she plots to banish her husband, save her sister Lydia, and reunite with the love of her life, Emmett.

Yet Emmet and Lydia are trapped in the Otherworld, where fae games are deadlier than ever—and a queen must play most viciously of all. Or see herself dethroned.

Forbidden romance, deceptive bargains, and lethal court intrigue intertwine in this mesmerizing, fae romantasy sequel that will captivate fans of Once Upon a Broken Heart and Belladonna.

The post Review: The Thorn Queen by Sasha Peyton Smith appeared first on The Nerd Daily.

Intrigued? Read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from Rebel Heiress by Amalie Howard, which releases on May 19th 2026.

Lady Rosalin Chen isn’t as vapid as she pretends to be. She’s actually a computing genius and smarter than most of her peers in the ton. Not even her friends know that she’s been sabotaging her own chances to find a match in the marriage mart.

She’s in want of a proper education, not a husband. So while her cousin is gallivanting around Europe, she decides to take his place at Cambridge University. How hard could it be to act like a gentleman, after all?

The only boy who could possibly see through her disguise is her tutor—sharp-eyed math prodigy Tarik St. Clair. The more time they spend together, the harder it becomes to hide who she really is. Even if Lady Rosalin decided to come clean, can love ever be part of the equation once the truth is factored in?

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Intrigued? Read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from Girl Reflected in Knife by Anica Mrose Rissi, which is out now.

Destiny can’t count on anyone but herself. Her mother has struggled with addiction for all of Destiny’s life, moving them from town to town, bad boyfriend to bad boyfriend—including a particularly dark period in Texas, where Destiny ended up in a psychiatric hospital. But Destiny’s mother is newly sober and stable. And Destiny is falling in love.

Destiny never believed in happily ever after, but that doesn’t stop her confidence from fraying when the first guy she ever trusted casually shatters her heart. Spiraling hard, she tells a tiny, desperate lie to buy herself a moment of hope. But as the lie grows and the pressures tangle, she gets lost in her own deception, and the line between truth and fantasy starts to blur.

With time untethered and her perception in knots, Destiny must find a way to reclaim her story and weave a new ending—before its beginnings unravel.

“Be careful of the story you tell yourself. It might become the one you believe.”

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Intrigued? Read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from They Want Us Dead by CL Montblanc, which releases on April 28th 2026.

Seventeen-year-old Sam Tombs hopes to get more eyes on the videos they make to raise awareness of crimes against LGBTQ+ teens. A true crime content creator event seems like the perfect opportunity to grow their channel―until the group becomes stranded at an eerie Victorian mansion, and one of them is killed in the night.

Sam’s alibi, and the only person they can trust, happens to be their mean, dorky internet nemesis Dylan. But the two must now put aside their rivalry and use their investigative skills to figure out who among the remaining teens is the killer, before their own deaths become tomorrow’s trending content.

The morning of the retreat, I’m scrambling to pack my bags while also wondering if it’s not too late to bail.

It’s embarrassing to admit, but I’m mildly terrified to go. I’ve never been away from home for longer than a single night; nearly eighteen and not even a summer camp experience under my belt. On the other hand, I clearly need to get out of the house before my desk chair becomes molded to my body like a turtle shell. 

My bedroom is a mess of clothing and recording equipment. It’s all black on white, white on black. Dad’s tried so hard to sneak in a little color–a potted plant here, a tchotchke from Family Thrift there–to no avail. It’s a unique decor style that Arya labeled as “barebones, Spartan IKEA bullshit” after I let her see too much of the room on a video call once.

My phone buzzes with a push notification: It’s a comment on a video I posted last night. I’m too busy right now to get distracted, but my wandering eyes betray me.

AdventuresWithDyl
YOU ARE A NASTY LITTLE WORM WITH NO MORALS

I stare at the words, fighting back the urge to reply, “as opposed to …  a worm that has morals?” or, “wow, so you’re obsessed with a worm,” but frankly, the asshole’s not worth my valuable time.

I Frisbee my phone onto my bed and start rummaging through my closet, trying to pick out which of my black shirts and black pants feel most appropriate for a Teens of True Crime event. It’s practically my uniform, now–the only thing I’m seen wearing in my videos. I’m honestly surprised Mister AdventuresWithDyl hasn’t ribbed me on that one yet. You know, suggesting I only own one shirt that I never wash or something equally unfunny.

Ugh …

One little reply to him should be fine, actually. It’ll only take a second.

SamTombs
I’m sure your 23 followers are super impressed with your attitude. Or maybe they don’t care, actually, considering they’re all bots?

Eat shit.

The LED panels above my desk creak, and I know I should pack them up to make sure they don’t somehow get damaged while I’m gone, but there’s no time. I unplug the lights, tidy their cables, roll up my green screen, and leave it at that. My chargers are yanked out of their sockets, and I send them flying like foxtails toward my open bag. That’ll have to do.

“Sam! Your ride is here!” my mom calls from the front of the house.

With that, I throw my bursting duffel bag over my shoulder and bid goodbye to my tiny bedroom studio.

Mom and Dad are both lined up by the front door like they’re seeing me off to the army. Dad’s eyes look a little teary, as though I’m leaving for months rather than a quick Sunday-through-Sunday. Mom looks more nervous than sad, wringing her hands and trying not to drop her blatantly fake smile.

She’s never been the biggest supporter of my social media exploits. She thinks talking about cold cases online puts me in danger. If I were any good at lying, I’d tell her she’s totally wrong.

“Did you remember everything?” Mom asks. “Underwear? Medicine? Floss?”

“I’m sure the rich-people house will have plenty of stuff,” I say with a sigh. “I’ll text you about the floss situation when I get there.”

“But the organizers said there might not even be service up there, isn’t that right?”

“Yeah, so I guess don’t assume I’ve died from a gum infection if I don’t text you.”

Mom’s smile twitches, almost imperceptibly, at my morbid joke.

“And if someone ever tries to lay a hand on you … ?” Dad starts.

“Strike to the neck,” I recite, whipping my hand forward to demonstrate. A few years ago I may have found it silly, but lately I’ve felt appreciative of Dad’s little self-defense lessons.

You never know what might happen. Especially when you’re … like me. Gender nonconforming. Blurring the lines in a way that can give awful people confusion-aggression. It’s not a problem I typically run into in LA though, thankfully–even out here in its questionable suburbs.

Dad ruffles my hair. “Go get ’em, Sammy.”

He opens the door, and I step out into a wall of heat. There’s a distant smell of smoke, somewhere out there, beyond the already-torched hills that surround my neighborhood. It’s not like I’m going super far–just about an hour east toward North Hollywood–but I’m still tingling with excitement to get out of here.

In front of me and our dying, yellowed lawn is a tiny black car. A GLE Coupe, to be exact, which is too flashy to be a favorite but still undeniably cool. I wave at the driver and charge forward, almost skipping with enthusiasm, to chuck my bag into the trunk. I come back around to the passenger’s side door and throw it open, ready to confirm my identity with the driver.

But when I peer inside, somebody else is already sitting there.

That’s odd. I would’ve thought that a bougie charity org could afford to send eight people their own individual rides…But the notion quickly makes me embarrassed, because I’m grateful that travel was subsidized at all, especially given that the family car is busted. If another attendee happens to live near me, then I’d genuinely prefer the earth to be polluted a little bit less, anyway. Carpooling is fine.

Until it’s not.

I catch a glimpse of a guy with tawny hair and tanned skin. He blinks up at me, blinded by sunlight, as I slowly drop myself into the seat next to him. I notice his round glasses, perched low on his nose, which seem so familiar that I swear to myself I’ve seen that exact pair before.

And then it hits me.

And then it hits him.

The door clicks behind me, and we begin to roll. But there’s just no fucking way–I cannot accept what I’m seeing right now to be real.

Even though my brain isn’t processing, my fight-or-flight is kicking in, because I’m pawing helplessly at the door handle like I would genuinely risk a tuck-and-roll escape right now to get out of this situation.

Because I would.

Because I’m looking directly into the smug goddamned face of AdventuresWithFuckingDyl.

The post Read An Excerpt From ‘They Want Us Dead’ by CL Montblanc appeared first on The Nerd Daily.

Intrigued? Read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from Summer Official by Rebekah Weatherspoon, which is out now.

Saylor Ford and Heaven Goo-Campbell could not be more different. Saylor is bubbly, popular, athletic, and always coupled up. Meanwhile, Heaven is grumpy and artistic, prefers her skateboard to people, and is perpetually single. So obviously, sparks fly when they must spend the entire summer together.

When Saylor, distracted by her mom’s viral video about Saylor’s coming out, breaks her arm at basketball camp, she becomes determined not to spend the summer stuck at home with the social media star. Her best escape is the girl she’s pretty sure can’t stand her but whom she finds absolutely irresistible, Heaven. Thankfully, Heaven is willing to let Saylor in on her summer plans, but for a price. Saylor has to help Heaven establish her social media presence, showcasing her art for her future career as a tattoo artist.

They didn’t anticipate the intimacy of spending each day together and the deepening feelings that followed. And their bingo scavenger hunt is now less a shared project and more a skate ramp to romance. But do the girls have a future together if Saylor is wary of bringing a relationship out into the open—too afraid that her mom’s influencer status will attract more attention than Saylor and timid Heaven can handle?

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Intrigued? Read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from I Could Give You The Moon by Ann Liang, which releases on April 14th 2026.

Everyone loves Chanel Cao—except Ares Yin.

While Chanel has spent her entire life curating a picture-perfect social media personality—from her body to her hair to her camera-ready smile—Ares has spent his trying to hide in the shadows. But Ares’s brother is missing, and Chanel’s parents have secretly separated, and their only hope is each other.

Ares is willing to do whatever it takes to find his brother, and Chanel will do anything to keep her parents’ secret. When the two meet and share a vision of the future—where Ares’s brother appears, as Chanel’s house burns to the ground—they are determined to use each other. Ares believes Chanel is the key to finding his brother, but Chanel is convinced if she gets Ares to fall in love with her, she’ll save her family house—and her parents’ crumbling marriage.

But Ares isn’t interested in the fake personality that Chanel has used her entire life to get affection and adoration. If she’s going to save her reputation, she’s going to have to let Ares get to know the real her—and risk real feelings.

EXCERPT

The best thing about heartbreak is how spectacularly predictable it is.

I’ve watched it play out enough times to know exactly what to expect, how to react. First, there’s flat-out denial. He won’t hurt me, I swear. He isn’t like that. He was just getting lunch with her, and he said himself she was only sitting on his lap because there weren’t enough seats in the cafeteria. He never lies about anything, so why would he be lying to me now?

If well-meaning friends remind you about the twenty-five instances where he was, in fact, lying, you pretend not to hear them. You’re too busy clinging to whatever’s left of your time together, holding out hope that you can find a cure, even if the relationship is gray in the lips. . . .

Until at some point, the denial collapses under the weight of suspicion, and that’s when the anxiety kicks in—the second stage. Casual messages from months ago turn into vital evidence, every punctuation mark analyzed for proof of how he texted when he loved you, if he ever loved you, and when he stopped. In a selfie, the blurry reflection of a girl standing beside him in a coffee-shop window becomes a killing blow. The rage hasn’t arrived, not yet. But it will, during that third stage, in a violent spiral of midnight venting sessions and deleted conversations and tossed pillows.

My friend Haili is clearly still stuck in the second stage of heartbreak—by far the least fun of them all.

“Maybe this is a bad idea,” she mutters to me, the worried line between her brows illuminated by the warm hotel lobby lights. She’s fiddling with the diamond charms on her wrist, a nervous gesture I’ve seen her perform like a ritual a hundred times in the decade I’ve known her. “Maybe I should just ask him. . . .”

I shake my head. “You’re never going to get an actual answer if you just ask about these things. Like, okay, what could he possibly say? ‘Yeah, you’re right, I snuck out to get dinner with another girl even though we’ve been a thing for two months already’?”

“But . . . what if he gets mad at me for following him here?” she whispers. “What if he never wants to talk to me again?”

Even though this is yet another expected symptom of second-stage heartbreak, it’s still mind-boggling how the sufferers tend to focus on how the other person feels.

A memory sneaks up on me: my own mom, sobbing to her friend on the phone when she thought I was out of the house, a silk bathrobe draped around her shaking shoulders, the crack in her voice as she spoke. He doesn’t love me anymore. Why doesn’t he love me anymore?

I shove it away. Lock it up before bile can rise to my throat.

“The question isn’t whether he wants to talk to you,” I tell Haili firmly, loudly enough to drown out the rattling in the back of my brain, and give her slender arm a squeeze. “You should start thinking about whether or not you’ll ever talk to him again.”

“I . . . okay.” Even through the dark tint of my sunglasses, I can see her complexion turn pale. “Okay, let’s go find him.”

I make a beeline for the front desk, through the bamboo groves designed to look like they’ve sprung right out of the black marble floors, and around the indoor pond that’s been trending as the new aesthetic photo spot on Xiaohongshu. Everything here is sleek wood, subdued colors, sophisticated in a way that isn’t too try-hard. Perfect influencer bait.

Two businessmen stop and stare at me as I brush past them, but I don’t slow my steps. The trick to fitting in anywhere is to act like you already belong there. Walk with purpose, shoulders straight, eyes ahead.

“Hello.” I greet the receptionist in my brightest voice. “Can you please point us in the direction of the Sky Restaurant?”

The receptionist glances up from her laptop and offers a smile almost as fake and wide as mine. “Yes, sure.” Then her attention slides past me, to Haili, and I follow her gaze with a wince. Haili looks like she’s on the verge of having a breakdown right in the middle of the perfect lobby. “Is your friend . . . okay?”

“She’s fine,” I say. “She’s just really hungry. We haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

“Right,” Haili squeaks out unconvincingly. At least she’s stopped gnawing on her lower lip. “I’m really, really hungry. Super hungry.”

But the receptionist studies us with growing suspicion. “Sorry, before I let you through—could I actually have your room number first?”

I feel Haili stiffen beside me.

“Um,” Haili says. “We don’t . . . we aren’t staying here—”

“I see.” The receptionist’s smile slips all the way off her face. “Well, I’m sorry, then. The restaurant is only open to our guests and VIP members.”

“That’s okay,” Haili begins to say, but I make a quick motion behind my back for her to leave it to me.

“I’m one of your VIP members,” I say smoothly, though I’m unsure if that’s true. Of course, this in itself wouldn’t have been an issue a few months ago. My father’s a titanium member at practically every major hotel and airline in the world; if I ever needed to pop into the lounge or visit a restaurant like this one, all it’d take was a quick phone call from him for the staff to let me through. But that might prove a little harder now, seeing as I’ve blocked his number and cut off every channel of communication between us.

“Do you have your membership card with you?” the receptionist presses. “Or your membership number?”

No, and no. But a quicker solution springs to mind—just a considerably more obnoxious one. “You can search for my name,” I tell her.

“Pardon?” The receptionist blinks at me.

“I’m sure I’m in your system,” I say. “It’s Chanel Cao.”

I Could Give You the Moon Copyright © 2026 by Ann Liang. Reproduced by permission of HarperCollins Publishers. All rights reserved.

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