Published Books

This breakout memoir rips into faith, grief, queerness, and reinvention with equal parts bite and belly laughs. It’s a love letter to second chances—and to the man who finally stopped running and said, mine.

This deeply queer novel cuts into love, class, and control at the fragile edge of commitment. When secrets surface and power shifts shake Zach and Matthew’s engagement, they’re forced to ask the hardest question of all: what kind of life are we really building—and can we still build it together?

This raw prequel digs into what it meant to grow up queer in the ’80s and ’90s—wrestling with identity, dodging shame, and clawing toward authenticity long before the world was ready to clap for it.

Out. Again. is August Quinn’s raw, intimate, and unfiltered memoir about what it actually means to come out — not once, but over and over across a lifetime. This isn’t a single “I’m gay” moment. It’s a constellation of truths: sexuality, grief, marriage, identity, faith, closets inside closets, and the daily work of choosing honesty in a world that keeps asking for silence.
It’s personal, political, spiritual, and deeply human — told with humor, Jersey grit, and a kind of honesty that leaves marks.

Zach Quinn thought he’d left politics behind—until Ridgewood dragged him back in.
When local leaders push him to run for mayor, his carefully rebuilt life with his husband, Matthew, is thrust into the spotlight. Old campaign files resurface, including one he hoped would stay buried, and the press smells blood.
As scandals go viral and trust starts to crack, Zach is forced to face the man he used to be—and decide what he’s willing to lose to move forward.

Hung Up: The Prequel is the messy, hilarious origin story behind the madness. Catholic guilt, bad decisions, questionable fashion, and the moment Derrick crashes into Max’s life—setting off everything that follows.

Short. Chaotic. Unapologetic.

You didn’t need this book. But it explains everything.

I went to bed gay.
I woke up married. With kids. A grill. And strong opinions about lawn care I absolutely did not consent to developing.

This isn’t a romance.
It isn’t fantasy.
It’s a satirical thought experiment about comfort, identity, and how easy it is to drift into a life that looks perfect but doesn’t quite fit.

Also yes — the bulldog on the cover absolutely stole the show. I’ve accepted my supporting-character status.

The baggage? Equal parts Samsonite and emotional. What follows is a steamy, laugh-out-loud crash course in love, loss, and discovering what happens when you buy a home together before you’ve figured out how to share a closet.

When Derrick accidentally goes viral, chaos follows: sponsorships, scandals, and a roommate who won’t stop rolling his eyes. But what starts as a joke between friends unravels into a laugh-out-loud, steamy love story about fame, friendship, and finding the courage to answer when love calls.

From sparkly Crocs at the altar to a bulldog ring bearer who steals the show, Max and Derrick’s “I do” is just the beginning. Honeymoon mushrooms, viral dog videos, and family dinners that nearly end in arson turn this sequel into a wild, heartfelt ride. A love story about marriage, mayhem, and the queer family you build when the internet won’t stop watching.

Meet Cameron — charming, reckless, loyal to his friends, and emotionally unavailable by choice.
Relationships? No thanks.
Hookups? Olympic sport.

In this unapologetic, high-heat, high-chaos memoir-style fiction, Cameron tells the truth the way most people avoid it: directly, shamelessly, and with receipts.

This book dives into the habits, the rules, the hookups, the disasters, the patterns, and the one thing he refuses to admit: maybe he’s been running from himself all along.

Confessions of a Repeat Offender is messy, honest, addictive, and absolutely unwilling to pretend to be something it isn’t — just like Cameron.

Summer 1996, Jersey Shore: a twelve-man lease, twenty-five roommates, and one closeted frat boy hiding in plain sight. Frat House, Beach House, Closet is a filthy, funny, true-ish memoir about sex, secrets, and the summer that cracked his closet door open whether he was ready or not.

Jake doesn’t fall in love.
He manages risk.

He’s good at it, too—keeping things light, keeping exits clean, never staying long enough for desire to turn into damage. Visibility is dangerous. Need is worse. And commitment? That’s just another word for loss.

Then there’s Matt.

Matt was supposed to be straight.
He was also supposed to be off-limits.

He’s his best friend Emily’s brother—steady, observant, and entirely unimpressed by Jake’s carefully managed distance. Matt doesn’t panic when things get complicated, and he refuses to make himself smaller just to be easier to keep.

As attraction turns into something heavier, Jake finds himself facing a problem he can’t outmaneuver: Matt doesn’t respond to distance the way he’s supposed to. The rules Jake has lived by for years stop working. And for the first time, leaving feels like the bigger risk.

When an unexpected opportunity threatens to pull them apart, Jake must decide whether choosing someone once is enough—or whether staying means learning how to choose again, without guarantees.

The One Who Was Supposed to Be Straight is a slow-burn M/M romance about confidence, control, and the quiet courage it takes to stay present when walking away would be easier.

This is Book One in a continuing series.
The choice is only the beginning.

People will build entire versions of you…
without ever having a conversation with you.

They’ll label you.
Simplify you.
Explain you to other people like they’ve got you fully figured out.

They don’t.

Whisper About Me Louder is what happens when you stop editing yourself for other people’s comfort—and start owning your story without apology.

It’s honest.
It’s direct.
And it doesn’t ask for permission.

Because the truth is:

You don’t owe anyone a smaller version of yourself
just because it makes them more comfortable.

And the moment you realize that?

The whispers stop mattering.