Can you share a teaser from your upcoming book Fractured?

Q&A With Shay Each Sunday

Q: Can you share a sample from Fractured?

A: Fractured releases this Tuesday, October 27, 2o20! So, I’m adding an extra blog in this month (since I’ve switched to every other week) in honor of the release to share a short teaser from the book so you can see what’s coming your way!

And guess what?? You can order the paperback already here! Stay tuned for Tuesday for all the official release day info. And if you aren’t subscribed to my newsletter sign up below to stay informed on all writing news.

Here are a couple pages from Fractured, which I will share without context. You’ll just have to read the whole book for reference!

Fractured by Shay Siegel: A Teaser

In the bathroom, I splashed cold water on my face and leaned on the sink with my left hand, staring at my hazel eyes in the mirror. “This sucks,” I said to my reflection. Looking away, I bit my lip and shook my head. Then I rolled my neck and left shoulder out, before exhaling. “It’ll be fine. It has to be,” I whispered, pressing back from the sink.

I could at least make one good thing happen today. The bathroom door swung shut behind me and I hit the Up button on the elevator outside. I headed to the third floor.

The doors opened and my feet carried me into the hallway. Heavy glass double doors sat right outside the elevator. On the front of them it said: Plandome Mental Health Services.

A quick scan of the hall showed there was nothing else up here other than this office and a bathroom. I was about to turn around, feeling kind of guilty for coming up here now. The directory board probably listed the mental health center anyway; I could’ve just looked at that on the second floor.

As I reached for the elevator button again, the bleached blonde with the purple streaks pushed the frosted glass doors open—and we were face to face. I jabbed at the Down button on the elevator a million times like it would get there any faster. It was no use, though, I’d already been discovered as the world’s biggest stalker.

Why was I being so pathetic? I was Mason Vance. I just had sex with the hottest senior in school last night—without taking her to the dance and with a broken wrist.

“I’m not stalking you,” I blurted, once the girl was standing beside me. The elevator was taking an eternity.

“Didn’t say you were,” she said, staring at the red numbers above the elevator as they lit up. Floor one . . . Floor two . . .

Seriously? She didn’t even care I followed her up here?

The elevator doors finally opened. We both got in. “First floor?” she asked. I couldn’t tell if she was joking since she didn’t ask me earlier.

“Yeah,” I said, still staring at her blank face. Then, I straightened up and cracked my neck. “It’s a good thing elevators have emergency buttons for fires. Want to know why?”

She laughed without smiling. I’d never seen anyone pull that off before. “In case there’s a fire?” She looked down, letting her hair fall in front of her eyes.

“Yup, and I’m burning up just looking at you.”

She glanced up at me, her lips pursed. She didn’t say anything, didn’t even laugh.

“Um”—I cleared my throat—“I’m Mason.”

She stared for a second and I wondered if she really wasn’t going to respond and tell me her name.

“I’m Lace,” she finally said.

“Lace,” I repeated. “That’s a really pretty name. Which makes sense since you’re a pretty girl.” I grinned.

She laughed again, still no smile. She crossed her right foot over her left and pushed some stray purple streaks behind her ear. Her round cheeks were bright red.

“Well, it’s not like I chose it or anything,” she said as the elevator doors opened. We both walked toward the front entrance. I admired the view as she walked in front of me, even though her sweater covered most of her curves. I had an imagination to work with.

I really didn’t get why she didn’t just say thanks or act flattered or something. Usually pickup lines and compliments worked in my favor, but nothing seemed to work with this girl. “I guess I should be complimenting your parents on it then.” What a lame line. This was a poor display.

She turned to face me. Her eyebrows were scrunched together and she glanced sideways, picking at her fingernails. “Okay then,” she said.

I cleared my throat, aware that I was tanking this interaction, but whatever. “So, Lace, this is the part where I get your number, right?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my mom watching me from inside the Suburban. Lace stared at me another minute.

“Nice meeting you,” she finally said, before she turned and started walking away.

“Oh, I see how it is,” I called after her, trying not to let my pride be totally smashed. “Playing hard to get.”

She turned to look at me again once she reached a white Jeep. “Not playing,” she said, just loud enough to hear.

She climbed into the car, shut the door, and drove off. No girl had ever turned down the chance to give me her number or had blown me off so completely. What the hell?

I continued to stare at where her car was even though she was gone. My eyes came to rest on my cast, and I felt like even more of a loser than I had in the doctor’s office.

The wind blew my hair into my face as I straightened up and pulled my shoulders back. No one rejected Mason Vance. If I couldn’t have football right now, then I’d have the only other thing I was good at, and that was girls.