For all of Gigi's life she's forced away all the bad and radiated nothing but goodness. That is until one fateful night when she just can't take it anymore. A bottle of vodka in one hand and the other gripping a ledge, she promises herself that finishing what should have happened all those years ago will release her and those she loves from so much pain. Joey Lynch does not need any more stress in his life. Both he and his siblings were finally free from the hellscape that was their lives and are now prospering in their new foster home with the Kavanaughs. He's sober, going to a good school, and finally starting to feel like a person again or is he? After seeing his ex at a party he finds himself needing something to quiet his mind, quiet that specific voice. What he didn't need was to find a girl clutching a bottle of vodka as she sat on the very bridge he once had. He knows her. How could he forget a girl like her? A promise for a promise. Secret for a secret. He just wants her to come down and she wants him to go away. Two 6s find one another after many years of pain and find a form of peace in each other's darkness. The question is: Who will break their promise first?

𝑩𝒊𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝒘𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒕𝒐𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓. You know the way some people just click? Like, proper soul twin stuff - same craic, same mad humour, same 'I'd die for a chicken fillet roll' energy. That's what it means, really. Birds of a feather and all that - it's just saying we all find our little gang eventually. The ones who get your weirdness and never judge you for ugly crying over a boy from maths class who doesn't even know your name. Right, so picture this - a book that's just pure vibes. Like, no pages wasted on anyone dying or lads being absolute gobshites for no reason. Just deadly fun stuff - sneaky kisses behind chippers, late-night beach swims, too much fake tan and not enough sense. Maybe a bit of drama, sure, but the juicy kind - not the sobbing-in-the-rain type. More like, 'Oops I kissed the wrong twin' kind of buzz. It'd be unreal, like a girly sleepover mixed with a Y2K romcom. Every chapter would be like: 'Did that just happen?!' And you'd reread it with your best friend squealing beside you. Deadly craic altogether.

𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝟐 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐉 & 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐇 AJ Lynch. The boy I fell in love with when I was barely old enough to understand what love really was-and somehow, impossibly, the man I'm still in love with now. Everything with him feels like a fairytale most days. But there's one thing. One very shiny, very specific thing he hasn't done yet. He hasn't asked. And I'd be lying if I said I don't notice. I do. I notice every pause, every almost-moment, every time his hand lingers in his pocket like he's checking something's still there. I tell myself not to rush him, not after everything we've survived. Because old shadows have a way of resurfacing when you least expect them-quiet, heavy, unresolved. And when they creep back into view, even fairytales hold their breath. *** Catherine Biggs. The most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my entire life. Strong. Sharp. Soft where it matters. The python herself, coiled confidence and quiet fire. I know she's waiting. I know she deserves the question. The ring. The promise spoken out loud. And it is coming. Soon. But old shadows don't disappear just because you're happy now. They linger at the edges, reminding you of what you almost lost, what you barely survived. And when they step back into view, even the bravest man needs a moment to steady himself-because when I ask her, I want nothing standing between us. Not fear. Not ghosts. Not the past.

Brian O'Neill. The coldest fella Tommen's has ever seen-or so they say. And I get it. He walks down the halls like he owns the place, never says much unless he has to, face like it's carved out of marble, always unreadable. He's like a winter prince-untouchable, a bit terrifying, and way too beautiful to be real. But he's mine. He's my boyfriend. He makes my heart beat like a bloody war drum every time he so much as looks at me with that stormy gaze of his. Protective to a fault. He'd burn the whole world down if it meant keeping his siblings safe. They're everything to him-his whole bleeding heart, even if he acts like he hasn't got one. And he fights. Not schoolyard scuffles. Not rugby scraps. I'm talking about underground, illegal fights. The kind you don't talk about. The kind you pray he walks away from. *** Daisy Biggs. If sunshine had a body and a runway walk, it'd be her. She's Ireland's it girl-covers of magazines, Vogue campaigns, CHANEL deals before she was even out of third year. Everyone knows her name. Every girl wants to be her, and every lad stares a bit too long when she walks past. But she's mine. She's my girlfriend. Yeah-me. The cold bastard with blood on his knuckles and bruises under his hoodie. I don't know how I pulled her, honest to God. Maybe 'cause she sees something in me no one else bothers to look for. But we keep it quiet. No one at Tommen's knows. Can't risk the papers finding out, or the other students. She's soft with me. Gentle in a way that makes me forget I've got cuts across my ribs or a busted lip. When I show up to her place, bleeding or shaking or just not right in the head after a fight, she never freaks. She just pulls me in, cleans me up, and wraps her arms around me like I'm something worth saving. I know she hates the fights. Hates what they do to me. Hates what I have to do to win. But what am I supposed to do? When you've got a da who treats you like a weapon, you learn real quick that choices are a luxury.

UNRAVELING 17 A Boys of Tommen Novel Jordan Kavanagh has spent her entire life living in the shadow of greatness. Being one year younger than Johnny Kavanagh means expectations follow her everywhere - in the halls of Tommen College, at home, in whispers she pretends not to hear. She's sharp-tongued, guarded, and determined to never let anyone see her crack. If she keeps her walls high enough, no one can compare her. No one can disappoint her. Especially not him. Gibsie is chaos wrapped in charm - the loudest laugh in the room, the boy who turns everything into a joke before it can hurt him. Everyone thinks they know him. The class clown. The easygoing friend. The guy who doesn't take anything seriously. Jordan sees right through him. What starts as constant bickering and accidental late-night conversations turns into something neither of them planned for. He makes her feel lighter. She makes him feel seen. And somewhere between stolen glances, almost-confessions, and hands that linger too long, the line between friendship and something deeper begins to blur. But loving someone means letting them see the parts you've worked your whole life to hide. And at seventeen, love feels a lot like falling - fast, terrifying, and impossible to stop. Keeping 17 is a slow-burn, emotionally charged romance about pressure, family expectations, hidden grief, and the kind of love that grows quietly before you even realize it's there. Because sometimes the person who feels like home is the one you were never supposed to fall for.

Edel doesn't do soft. She doesn't do safe. And she definitely doesn't do sober. She walks into BCS with sharp eyes, dirty secrets, and an addiction she pretends she controls. A dead father. An alcoholic mother. A home that never felt like one. Until John Kavanagh. John has money, a future, and a family that still works. A life Edel was never meant to touch. Different worlds. Same school. She doesn't need saving. He doesn't know he's trying anyway. Some girls don't run because they're reckless. They run because staying would kill them.

Clionagh Biggs bright presence lights up every room, even as she channels her father's razor‑sharp intellect and talent in sport toward a future in medicine. Driven by radiant optimism and honed skills-on the camogie pitch and in the lab-Clionagh is determined to don the white coat and carry forward her father's healing legacy. She always seems cool calm and collected, but there's one person who can tick her off even in her most zen moments. As the son of a famed rugby legend, Rory Kavanagh inherits his father's raw athletic power-but he's also burdened by a simmering rage at a world he feels has wronged him. His bone‑crushing tackles on the pitch mirror his inner fury, and every day he teeters on the edge between letting his anger consume him or forging it into the drive that could become his greatest victory. Clionagh and Rory used to be inseparable-her sunshine to his storm. But with big names to live up to and pressure mounting, friendship gave way to resentment. Now they can't stand each other. Yet when their worlds collide again, they realize they have more in common than they ever wanted to admit-and maybe more to lose than they thought.

"I don't want her. I want you." In which Maeve Horgan-Wilmot has been taught her whole life that girls like her aren't the first choice. They're backups. The safe choice boys fall back on when things don't work with their dreams. But never the risk. Never the once-in-a-million chance. Never number one. So why can't Maeve seem to accept that number 14 has better options? Why can't she convince herself that it's just another boy. A chance she's afraid to take. A chance she knows she'll miss and let pass her by. Why does she want to risk? OR He's been dealing with the shitty hand he got his entire life. Tadhg Lynch has never been given the chances to chase after what he wants. And when what might have been the worst night of his life opens up a door full of opportunities he never even let himself dream of, he's not going to miss out. He's never going back. So why does it seem like the thing he wants most of all keeps slipping out of his grasp. She's distracting 14.

She is under water, but he will pull her out. Whatever it takes. Tadgh Lynch doesn't do distractions. He's guarded, sharp, and has more baggage than he lets on. But starting at Tommen College, nothing's supposed to shake him-not even her. Jaylana Pierce is quiet, bruised, and hiding something no one else sees. Secrets are second nature to her. Survival depends on them. Tadgh knows he should stay away. But the more he sees through her walls, the harder that becomes. And saving her might just cost him everything.

Rory Kavanagh. The best rugby player Tommen has ever seen-well, besides his da, obviously. Johnny Kavanagh. The Johnny Kavanagh. Our parents are basically joint at the hip, best mates since they were kids. And naturally, me and Rory just... became mates too. That's the deal. That's what we said we'd be. Friends. Right? Friends. But like-come on. Have you seen him? His abs? That man has a six-pack like he's sculpted from marble. His hair? Brown and silky, like-like a shampoo ad or somethin'. And those eyes? The kind of blue that makes you forget your own name. I swear to God, I'm not even being dramatic. So yeah... maybe I've a teeny, tiny, miniscule crush on him. Can you blame me? No. No, you can't. I won't hear it. But I'm not saying a thing. No way. What if he just laughs? That'd kill me. So for now, I'll just pretend I don't stare at him for longer than is normal when he talks. For now, it's just friendship. Grand. ...But what if he does feel the same? *** Bethany Gibson. Jaysus. She's been my best friend since we were in playschool, like actually since nappies. She's pure chaos-loud, mad, always in trouble for something-but I wouldn't change a thing about her. Not one thing. She's class. Gorgeous too. Not just like "oh she's grand," no-proper gorgeous. Her blonde curls bounce when she laughs, and I swear it's like the sun's just following her around. Her eyes? Silver. Like not even grey-silver, like a flipping fairy or something. Every time she looks at me, I forget what I was saying. Which is not ideal when you're trying to seem normal, right? I've fancied her since I was about seven. Maybe six. But what am I supposed to do? Tell her? What if she just laughs and goes, "Ah you're gas," and then pats me on the head like I'm some lost puppy? I'd actually evaporate from shame. But then again... what if she does like me back? What if all this time I was too scared to see it?