nothing new in 2026

Lord, what will become of me

I have no idea when I’ll decide to publish this newsletter, but as I write it, it’s mid July, and I’m almost finished with the first draft of my fourth romance novel.

Since I gathered you here with a clickbait title, I’ll make it up to you first thing: this book is planned for release in April of 2027.

Logically, I know April 2027 is only six months later than my usual October pub date. Logically, I know six months is a drop in the bucket for the book industry, that publishing is notoriously slow, and that some readers would not have given it a second thought if I never explained my absence from the 2026 release schedule.

On days when I am thinking logically, I can admit the sky is not falling because I’m skipping an entire calendar year of publishing. But on days when I am nonsensical, I play the world’s tiniest violin and spiral over the prospect of obscurity.

To be vulnerably straightforward with you, my career as an author is not at so stable a place where buzz is created for me. I still have to make most of it myself, and that buzz is reliant on new, new, new. A new brand kit for my new book and new character art to go with it and different, because it can’t be the same because it can’t be nothing new. New bookstores to visit because I need new readers because some of the old ones aren’t coming back but some of them are, and surely they’ll want something new. New banter, new tropes, new intimate positions for them, new tour outfits for me, and now, a new pub season too.

I think my greatest fear, and the reason I’m having such a hard time thinking logically about this six-month delay for my fourth romance novel, is that I’m terrified of losing relevancy. Even at my day job, I am flat out told that I have to stay relevant if I ever dream of getting promoted. I am told that my visibility must be high. That I must be perceived as necessary. Which is how I know I’m not entirely in an echo chamber and some of these internal fears about my author career are founded.

Here’s the deal: according to my publisher, the book I’m writing is better suited to come out in April than it is in October, and I have to acknowledge there is an allure to that sparkly summer beach read I haven’t yet capitalized on. But while other authors might have been able to finagle the draft in time for April 2026, I got married in March of this year. My brain could not focus on storytelling, and I didn’t draft in the spring months I historically would have.

It’s life getting in the way of work, but one of the best parts of life. I got married in a botanical garden and went on a breathtaking honeymoon to Japan. I celebrated two other couples’ gorgeous wedding weekends in Annapolis and Pawley’s Island with my husband! I got to taste the words my husband as often as I liked.

And then, when the summer doldrums rolled in, I started drafting again.

This next part is my darkest secret, a horrible truth I can hardly bare to type: I am absolutely loathe to admit that the manuscript has benefitted from a little extra time. It will be a better book for it. Something I’m proud of, that I spent time with, and came back to after partaking in my own life.

I wanted to tell you this before announcing my tour schedule for Never Over (coming soon!), just in case you were on the fence about attending an event. I might have some appearances in 2026, but they won’t be related to a book release of mine.

I waited to tell you this until the first draft of Book 4 was ready for my editor. It’ll be off my desk in less than week, which is a really great feeling.

I will share news about what’s next from me when it exists. Until then, nothing new.