Corinne Sullivan’s incredibly open and honest debut novel, Indecent, has made us wonder what else she had up her sleeve. And now she’s taking things even further with her upcoming novel that amps up her writing and the tension to a 10 as we explore lost relationships and the dangers of reconnecting with the person you thought was the one. And if our experience with this reveal is any indication, you’re going to want to pick this up ASAP so you can find out the truth for yourself.
Cosmopolitan has an exclusive first look at Corinne Sullivan’s Yours Always, which is set to be released on April 14, 2026. The novel follows Talia as she suddenly reconnects with her ex, Townsend Fuller. While their last relationship ended in heartbreak, it seems like time and space might have changed him for the better. But what happens when the person who came between them suddenly starts warning her, seemingly from the great beyond? Here’s some more info from our friends at Thomas & Mercer:
Talia Danvers is an engineer for a high-end dating app who hasn’t managed to code her own love life. Then she reconnects with Townsend Fuller: the one who got away.
Or, more accurately, the one who left her for someone else. But Townsend swears he’s a changed man, and Talia wants to believe him. Even if he is the prime suspect in the disappearance of Amanda Reade, the same woman who broke them up in the first place.
In cases like these, it’s always the boyfriend. That’s what Amanda’s sister Kaitlyn thinks. So does Talia’s colleague Meera Ratnam―and she’ll risk everything to convince Talia that she’s making a deadly mistake.
Then Talia starts receiving menacing texts from Amanda. Suddenly, no one knows what to believe. Is Townsend guilty? Is Amanda alive? Or is someone playing games?
Featuring unreliable narrators and written with acid wit and creeping unease, ‘Yours Always’ is a mind-bending tale of dangerous love.
With this complicated love triangle, things are definitely going to get messy. And we dare you to look away from this stunning cover that feels like the ultimate staring contest. When we asked Corinne who it was, she wouldn’t confirm if it’s Talia or Amanda, making us even more curious. Check it out below:
Oh, and that’s not all! You can check out an exclusive excerpt below that will leave you asking some major questions about what is happening next. Just make sure to pre-order Yours Always and check out Corinne’s previous reads as well!
An Excerpt From Yours Always
By Corinne Sullivan
Chapter One: Townsend
Townsend Fuller watches as his friends unload cases of Lone Star from his buddy’s G-Wagon, feeling low-key pissed off.
Jackson, Brett, Warren—they’re the same guys he’s known since his St. Augustine Episcopal School days, whose families also have memberships at the Verano Country Club and boat slips at the Lake Austin Marina. Theirs is a friendship of proximity, not affinity, and while Townsend could once at least relate to these guys, that is no longer the case. They have no idea how it feels to be strapped to a ticking time bomb.
As if on cue, Townsend’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He doesn’t read the notification. He knows who the message is from—who all the messages are from. He’s been ignoring them for weeks, but it hasn’t proved much of a deterrent. They come when he’s taking his phone out of his locker at the gym. As he walks into a meeting with potential investors. The second after he closes his eyes at night.
You can’t ignore me forever Townsend.
Fxck you.
You’ll regret this.
Before Brett can close the door of his Benz, Townsend tosses his phone into the back seat. He doesn’t need to feel her watching him all afternoon.
Townsend is too old for Party Island, but it’s Saturday, and it’s mid-May, so that’s where he’s going. On the south side of Town Lake, he can see them: the bronzed bodies and pastel paddleboards, bobbing in a festive mass near Lou Neff Point. He wonders how many of those partygoers are worried about sunscreen, or algae blooms, or about the body pulled from the water just last week.
“Hey, Fuller, you going to help or just going to fuck around?” Jackson says this affectionately, almost like an apology, and Townsend realizes this is his way of asking Are you okay? He hates their pity.
“Says the king of fucking around.” He smiles back, his way of saying I’m good. Then he strips down to his swim shorts and grabs a case of beer.
Together, the boys head down to the boat-rental shack to meet up with Nicole, Brett’s on-again, off-again girlfriend. She’s brought along one of her faithful blond retainers. Both women are in jean cutoffs and bikini tops, and when they greet the guys, both have the same pervasive vocal fry. This habit of traveling in packs was cute when Nicole and her friends were freshmen and Townsend and his crew were seniors, but now those girls are all at least thirty, while Townsend is less than a month away from thirty-four.
“I’ll go get the shit,” he tells his friends.
At the counter, he pays for six kayak rentals, feeling a pang in his gut as he hands over his credit card. It’s like a small death, every time he remembers his funds are no longer unlimited.
After divvying up the beers and collecting their paddles, they get in their kayaks and head toward the action. For a moment, Townsend tunes out his friends and focuses on the familiar sight of the Austin skyline shimmering in the distance: the Texas State Capitol building, where he’d spent countless school field trips; the Austinite, where he’s lived for over a decade; the Frost Bank Tower, where he’d worked alongside his dad up until a month ago, when everything went to shit.
“So. Townsend.” The blond girl—Chrissy, apparently—floats alongside him, blocking his view. “I don’t think I’ve seen you since Nicole’s Christmas party. How have you been?”
“I’ve been...” Townsend hesitates, searching for the right word. Exhausted. Strung out. Fucked up beyond all reason. “Fine. I’ve been fine, I guess.” He racks his brain for something he can ask her in return, but considering he couldn’t even remember her name before Nicole reminded him of it, he’s got no shot at recalling her job or interests.
Chrissy has wedged herself next to him, so close their kayaks touch.
“I heard about your dad. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Over the past month, Townsend has heard these words more times than he can count: I’m sorry for your loss. Sometimes people mixed in other platitudes as well, such as He’s in a better place now or At least he didn’t suffer. But it’s I’m sorry for your loss that bothers him the most. People like Chrissy can’t begin to understand the extent of what he lost.
“It’s fine. It’s whatever.”
By the time they hit the sandbar by Lou Neff Point, Party Island is in full swing. Brett realizes he forgot his floating grill in the car and paddles back to get it, while the rest of them float among the hundreds of half-naked young people, stretched out on paddleboards and kayaks, guzzling beers and roasting in the sun. To Townsend’s left, an intense game of beer pong is taking place on what looks like an inflatable mattress. To his right, a man in a canoe holds a giant Bluetooth speaker over his head, blaring trap music. Townsend tucks his oar into his kayak and cracks open a Lone Star. Perhaps he can drink enough to forget how little he wants to be here.
“Yo, guys,” Brett says when he returns. “The grill master has arrived. And I brought a surprise for you, Townsend.”
From behind, Townsend can hear the slaps of Brett’s paddle as he approaches, as well as a woman’s timid giggle. His heart seizes—did she follow him here?
Watch your fxcking back Townsend.
You can’t escape me.
Your mine forever.
He turns slowly, suspending the moment—but when he sees who sits in Brett’s boat, he feels a rush of relief. It’s not her, thank Christ. Instead, it’s the last person he expected to see.
Her hair is shorter; she’s cut it into a coquettish, chin-length style with choppy bangs that frame her heart-shaped face. Her skin is a bit tanner, her body is a bit leaner, her lips are painted a dark-red shade he doesn’t remember her ever wearing before, but it’s unmistakably her.
“Talia.”
“Townsend, wow.” Her lips twist into a shy smile. They match her dress, a short thing with frills on the shoulders and a low-cut neckline. “Hi.”
“Hi.” It’s all Townsend can manage. She looks good. Really good. He squeezes his beer in his hand and tries to collect himself. Then he gives a little cough to clear his throat and turns to the rest of the group. “You all remember my—you remember Talia, right?” He trips over the unspoken modifier: my ex-girlfriend, Talia.
When he used to imagine what it would be like if he ever ran into Talia again, he assumed she would be cold toward him. God knows she has plenty of reason to be. But with that soft half smile on her face, Talia doesn’t look like she wants to kill him, and Townsend is happy to take a win where he can get one. They dated for about six months last year—what feels like a lifetime ago to Townsend. Would it be so crazy to think she’s moved on too?
“Hey, everyone,” Talia says, lifting a hand in greeting. “Good to see you all again.” Townsend knows she’s just being polite. He’d invited Talia to hang with his St. Augustine friends a few times over the course of their relationship, but they never really seemed to gel. Looking back, Townsend can recognize that Talia was probably bored by the rehashing of high school drama that always seemed to occur when the crew got together.
“Babe, come on. I think I see some girls from Regents.” Nicole starts to paddle in the direction of a floating trampoline.
“Coming!” Brett calls after her. “Right, so...” He hesitates, twisting back to where Talia is still perched on his boat.
“Oh, sorry!” Talia says. It’s clear she’s not being invited along to chum it up with Nicole’s gaggle of prep school friends. “Of course. Should I...?” She gestures to Townsend’s kayak. “Do you mind?”
“No, of course not, please.” With some effort, Townsend navigates his kayak next to Brett’s. Talia holds out her hand expectantly, and he takes it, pulling her aboard. She smells just as he remembers, like rose oil and sandalwood.
“Hi,” she says again.
“Hi.”
The rest of the group follows Brett and Nicole, paddling off toward the party, but Townsend just lets his kayak bob in the water. A beat of silence. He and Talia smile timidly at each other, unsure, as people whoop and laugh around them. “Can I get you a drink?” Townsend finally says, cursing himself for the cliché. He’s nervous.
“Sure.”
He hands her one of the beers rolling around in the bottom of the kayak, then he picks up his oar and starts paddling aimlessly, just looking to get away from the noise. Talia leans back into her seat and sips her beer, her face mostly hidden as she faces the water ahead.
“So,” Talia begins, right as Townsend starts to say, “How you’ve been?”
She huffs out something like a laugh, then peeks over her shoulder before turning away again. In that glimpse, Townsend can see her cheeks have turned pink, but it’s been so long, he’s not sure how to read her blush. Is she embarrassed? Pleased? Regretting whatever life choices led her back into Townsend’s shitty orbit?
It’s painful, this awkwardness. Townsend should just row her back to shore and say goodbye. But for some reason, he finds he doesn’t want to. There’s something compelling him to keep Talia on his boat. Guilt, maybe. Or attraction. She really does look good with this new haircut. Then he gets an idea. “Have you ever been to the Congress Avenue Bridge at sunset?”
Talia raises an eyebrow. “Is this a line?”
“No, it’s a genuine question.”
“I have not.”
“You have to see it. There are these bats—it sounds weird, but it’s actually incredible. We should go now before it gets too late.” He pauses for a moment. “If that’s okay with you.”
Talia lies back and crosses one long, skinny leg over the other. “That’s okay with me.”
“Cool.” Townsend paddles with confidence now, pleased with his plan and with the extra time he’s bought himself with Talia. “So. Want to explain how you ended up in my buddy’s boat?”
As they make their way toward the north shore of Town Lake, Talia explains how she ran into Brett in the parking lot, where she’d just been leaving after having a picnic with a friend in the park. “Remember my coworker at Cuff, Meera? With the daughter?”
“Yeah, that name sounds familiar.” Townsend doesn’t want to talk about Meera. “And Brett just invited you to come chill with us?”
“Yep. Kind of a weird coincidence, I guess.”
“What is it they say? Maybe ‘coincidence’ is just another word for ‘fate’?”
“Oof.” Talia rolls her eyes. “Now that’s a line.”
“Is it working?”
“Maybe,” she admits with a sly smile. She seems lighter, more carefree than he remembers her being. It’s undeniably sexy—but in a more sophisticated, self-assured way than the likes of Chrissy with her tiny bikini. Was Talia like this when they were together? So cool and confident?
Still keeping a good pace (he wants to make it to the bridge before sunset), Townsend tells Talia about his dad’s recent heart attack, about how his health issues had pushed Townsend to finally launch his holistic health care start-up.
“You told me about this. AutoInTune—like ‘autoimmune’—right?”
“Yes, that’s it. I can’t believe you remember that.”
“I remember everything,” says Talia, and for the first time since they spotted each other in the middle of Party Island, Townsend sees something like mistrust in her eyes.
“Tal...” He says her name softly, hoping she can hear the apology in his voice without him actually having to say the bitter words.
He knows that, with Talia, he screwed up. He was careless. Arrogant. Easily bored. Everything came easy to him, so he wasn’t afraid to lose what he had. Even after she started to refer to him as her boyfriend, he kept an eye on what else was out there, mindlessly swiping through Cuff, the very dating app Talia worked for, while she slept next to him. He liked Talia, sure, but it was obvious that she was looking for something more serious than he was willing to give at the time. She was always talking about future plans, like what they would do for Halloween when it was still July. She used to show up at his apartment unannounced with homemade cookies, like some cross between a Girl Scout and his mother. So when he came across the Cuff profile of a shapely blond whose bio simply said “Aspiring nepo baby,” he took his chances. He got sloppy. Maybe, deep down, he even wanted to get caught. And eventually, he did.
While he’s been lost in his thoughts, they’ve reached the Congress Avenue Bridge. Townsend is saved from figuring out how to apologize to Talia when, all of a sudden, thousands of bats emerge at once from the underbelly of the bridge, flapping wildly against the darkening sky.
“Oh, look! Look!” Talia pulls out her phone from the sporty little belt bag strapped across her chest and starts taking pictures of the sunset. As she snaps away, he admires her delicate wrists: paper-thin skin, prominent tendons, bluish-purple network of veins.
Talia sighs, her eyes following the bats as they soar in frenzied circles. “They’re so beautiful.”
Townsend watches, too, but mostly he watches her. With her face lit by the glow of the distant skyline, she looks to him like the promise of something new—or, rather, the promise of a second chance at something he once had.
#
Sitting in his car later that night, staring into the blue glow of his phone in the dark, Townsend finally reads through the dozens of messages he received from her that day.
Your a piece of shxt.
I love you Townsend.
I still know the key code to get into your place.
Ignoring her is the easiest thing to do, but he’s tired of taking the easy way out. He quickly types out a message and sends it before he can regret it.
This is over. We are over, he writes. Leave me the fuck alone, or I will make you leave me alone.
Adapted from Yours Always by Corinne Sullivan, published by Thomas & Mercer, an imprint of Amazon Publishing. Copyright © 2026 by Corinne Sullivan
Yours Always, by Corinne Sullivan will be released on June 14, 2026 from Thomas & Mercer. To preorder the book, click on the retailer of your choice:
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