Legal Limbo? Almost Exorcised.

Somebody cue the Beyoncé freedom anthem because, babes… the legal leash is finally coming off.

After months of contracts, lawyers, and emails that started with “per our last discussion” (a phrase that ages me five years every time I read it), I can finally say this: We now have full, unfiltered, unapologetic control over every single published work under the August Quinn banner.

…Well. Almost every single one.

There are still three stubborn little gremlins refusing to leave the legal group chat:

• 📘 The Rest of Me

• 🐶 Who Saved Who (We Did)

• 🏖️ Frat House, Beach House, Closet

• 
  

They’re not being dramatic — they’re just stuck in proof-editing limbo while the lawyers argue over who pays for what. (Spoiler: it might end up being me. Because apparently “creative genius” isn’t legal tender.)

But here’s the thing: that’s it. Those three are the final boss battle. Everything else? Locked down. Signed, sealed, delivered. Ours.

And honestly? It’s probably a good thing we only launched this chaos train this year and haven’t exactly been rolling in royalties yet — because untangling all this legal spaghetti after making millions would’ve been way messier. Consider this the messy prequel arc before the money montage.

I can see the light at the end of the tunnel now — and this time it’s not a train. It’s the glow of total creative freedom, baby. And once those last three are out of legal jail, the Quinnverse will officially be fully, gloriously ours again.

So yeah. The legal saga that’s been giving me stress wrinkles and caffeine dependency is almost over. And when it is? Oh honey… we’re unleashing chaos like never before.