{"id":81120,"date":"2025-07-21T17:06:12","date_gmt":"2025-07-21T17:06:12","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/us\/81120\/"},"modified":"2025-07-21T17:06:12","modified_gmt":"2025-07-21T17:06:12","slug":"read-jordyn-taylors-see-you-at-the-summit-excerpt-see-cover-reveal","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/us\/81120\/","title":{"rendered":"Read Jordyn Taylor’s \u2018See You at the Summit\u2019 Excerpt, See Cover Reveal"},"content":{"rendered":"

One of the fun parts about being a journalist is getting to keep some major secrets and yes, it’s even more fun when it involves some of your favorite people. When Jordyn Taylor<\/a> originally told me that she was writing a bisexual romance, I absolutely could not believe it. It was a match made in heaven for the author, who will also be making her adult fiction debut with her next release. Several months later, she announced her big move and have been waiting for the first peek at this new Jordyn era! Well, luckily for all of us, the wait is finally over!<\/p>\n

Cosmopolitan has the first official look at Jordyn Taylor’s See You at the Summit<\/a>, which is set to be released on January 27, 2026. The novel follows Simone Whittaker as she kicks off her coming out her journey after years of hiding that she’s bi. But her journey takes a turn when she meets one of her new co-workers that changes everything for her. Here’s some info from our friends at Gallery Books<\/a>:<\/p>\n

For fans of Alison Cochrun and Abby Jimenez, a heartfelt and sexy romantic comedy following one bi woman\u2019s messy journey through coming out\u2014and reluctantly falling for a straight man. From the USA TODAY bestselling author of Wicked Darlings.<\/strong>Girl comes out as bi. Girl falls for a straight guy.<\/p>\n

Simone Whittaker has spent the first three decades of her life pretending to be straight. But when the girl she never dared call her girlfriend walks away, she decides she\u2019s done living in fear. Her uptight parents don\u2019t take the news well, but a viral coming-out post and a new job at Toronto\u2019s Rainbow Museum offer a fresh start\u2014and a crash course in queer adulthood.<\/p>\n

That is, until her first day of work, when Simone ruins a project designed by Ryan Foley\u2014the museum\u2019s gruff and annoyingly hot carpenter\u2014earning her the top spot on his enemies list. When they\u2019re forced to take a work trip to the Whistler Pride and Ski Festival together, Simone vows not to let a grumpy straight guy ruin her first Pride. But Ryan keeps surprising her\u2014thoughtful, vulnerable, and impossible to ignore. As sparks fly on chairlifts and by crackling fires, one snowstorm\u2014and one bed\u2014changes everything.<\/p>\n

Back in Toronto, however, reality sets in. Dating a guy\u2014and being mistaken for straight\u2014weren\u2019t exactly part of Simone\u2019s coming-out plan. As the pressure builds between the identity she\u2019s just beginning to explore and the relationship that wasn\u2019t supposed to happen, she starts to wonder: What if claiming one part of herself means erasing the other? <\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

Already wondering about Simone and Ryan’s big work trip together? Peep the colorful skis that made us fall in love with See You at the Summit’s cover below!
<\/p>\n

\"book<\/p>\n

Gallery Books<\/p>\n

And that’s not all! You can also read the first chapter below! Just make sure to pre-order See You at the Summit<\/a> and check out some of Jordyn’s previous reads<\/a> to hold you over before its big release!<\/p>\n

An Excerpt From See You at the Summit
By Jordyn Taylor<\/strong>Chapter 1
<\/strong><\/p>\n

Simone felt like her chest was going to implode from the enormity of what she\u2019d just posted on the internet. Was it possible to die of sheer panic? She could have googled it, except that would mean looking at her phone, and that would only increase her chances of a panic-induced death, if such a thing were indeed possible. Also, her fingers were frozen.<\/p>\n

She could have taken the streetcar to the Queen subway. Realistically, she should have taken the streetcar, if only to avoid showing up to work on her first day looking like she\u2019d just come off a disastrous ski run. But on this particular morning, she hadn\u2019t wanted to cram herself in with other commuters any more than she needed to. Too claustrophobic.<\/p>\n

Tugging the zipper of her parka as high as it would go, she leaned into the frigid January wind whipping down Queen Street. The icy gusts had already frozen her damp ginger curls solid, and while the cold definitely stung, it wasn\u2019t the only reason her eyes were watering.<\/p>\n

Simone pictured her parents learning the news. They were currently doing the snowbird thing and spending the winter at their condo on Florida\u2019s Gulf Coast. She had just been down there over the holidays with them, as well as her two older brothers and her brothers\u2019 wives and children. Simone, who was turning thirty this year, had been the only unpartnered adult\u2014as her mother had pointed out numerous times.<\/p>\n

Right now, Kathy Whitaker was probably perched on her balcony in a matching loungewear set, sipping green tea with lemon and nibbling a slice of toast with a translucently thin layer of cream cheese. Simone\u2019s recently retired father, George, was likely on the driving range already, warming up for today\u2019s round of golf with his buddies. George didn\u2019t have an Instagram account and could barely be counted on to see text messages, so he\u2019d hear Simone\u2019s news through Kathy, who perused the app daily to keep tabs on her social circle. When Kathy saw the post, she\u2019d be absolutely mortified, but the only signs of her disapproval would be narrowed eyes, a clenched jaw, and a sharp, sucked-in jet of air through flared nostrils. Hardly a dramatic shift from her typical demeanor\u2014at least to the untrained eye. She\u2019d take a sip of tea to force down her distaste, which would stay inside her forever, festering, and lash out when Simone least expected it.<\/p>\n

Simone remembered when she got her ear cartilage pierced in university. The first time Kathy saw it in person, she cloaked her disgust in a sort of compliment: \u201cYou don\u2019t think it distracts from your natural beauty, darling?\u201d As if Kathy really cared about promoting \u201cnatural beauty.\u201d Once Simone hit puberty, Kathy would bring her along to get their legs waxed, their eyebrows threaded, their curls straightened, their fair skin spray-tanned before vacations and special events. When it came to the cartilage piercing, Simone suspected she knew Kathy\u2019s real concern, the one her mother hadn\u2019t expressed aloud: that Simone had deviated from the narrow road Kathy had paved for her, from the version of womanhood that was considered acceptable at the family\u2019s country clubs in Toronto and Naples. Case in point: When the piercing got infected six months later and Simone was forced to take it out, Kathy let out a sigh of relief and said, \u201cOh, thank God. I always thought that thing was so trashy, Simone. Men won\u2019t want to date you with all that crap hanging off your ears.\u201d<\/p>\n

Simone gritted her teeth. No one had wanted to date her with or without the cartilage piercing, and she couldn\u2019t blame them. She\u2019d been the one with the secret buried deep within her bones.<\/p>\n

That is, until now. Now, her secret was live on Instagram. Uncontained. Spreading.<\/p>\n

\u201cNew year, new me,\u201d she whispered into the wind, somewhat deliriously, before boarding the subway at Queen, riding it two stops north to College, and walking the rest of the way to the Village. She\u2019d workshopped the post until two in the morning, then lain awake spiraling about it until her alarm had gone off at six thirty. Simone desperately needed caffeine. On Church, across the street from the large rainbow-striped building that was her new place of work, she ducked into a coffee shop and ordered enough cold brew to kill a horse.<\/p>\n

\u201cBig day today?\u201d asked the guy who\u2019d made her drink, nodding at the cup.<\/p>\n

Actually, yes! I just came out as bisexual after a lifetime of pretending to be straight! Besides the fact that it would have been a massive overshare, Simone still wasn\u2019t used to saying the word out loud: bisexual. Just thinking it made her equal parts excited and downright terrified. \u201cFirst day of work,\u201d she told the barista.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou got this,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

Simone wasn\u2019t sure about that, but she thanked him anyway.<\/p>\n

She\u2019d been so nervous about coming out that she\u2019d barely given thought to her new job as marketing project manager at the soon-to-open Rainbow Museum. In her interview, the founder, Frankie Marlow, had explained, \u201cWe\u2019re not so much a museum as we are an immersive, multisensory museum experience\u2014dedicated to celebrating, amplifying, and giving back to the 2SLGBTQIA+ community.\u201d Simone quickly gathered that \u201cimmersive, multisensory museum experience\u201d was fancy start-up-speak for \u201can array of fun photo ops with loose educational tie-ins and an expansive gift shop,\u201d but she hadn\u2019t chosen the Rainbow Museum for its cultural prestige. She\u2019d chosen it because a) she\u2019d just been laid off from her project manager job at an educational technology start-up and required money in order to live; and b) she\u2019d been determined to come out, and starting a job at Toronto\u2019s new Capital of Queerness in the heart of the historic Gay Village seemed like an effective way to hold herself accountable.<\/p>\n

Cold brew in hand, she crossed the street. She\u2019d interviewed for the job over Zoom, since the building had been a full-on construction zone before the holidays. Now that they were just one month away from the Rainbow Museum\u2019s grand opening, Simone was able to walk through the front entrance and see the space in real life.<\/p>\n

She smelled warm, earthy sawdust with sharp notes of wallpaper glue and fresh paint, and she was instantly transported to the scene shop in the theater where she\u2019d been forced to perform in dance recitals as a girl. She didn\u2019t know the first thing about carpentry, but she\u2019d always wished she could work backstage instead of performing in front of an audience. That was the reason she\u2019d gone for a career in project management: she wasn\u2019t a big ideas person, but she was great at making sure other people\u2019s big ideas were executed smoothly.<\/p>\n

Simone was surprised to find no color at all in the lobby, the walls and ticket booth plastered with black-and-white shots of the city. The only clue to the magic that lay beyond was a jet-black sliding door with a blinking neon sign that said enter here in delicate rainbow letters. She approached the sign, and with a smooth whir, the door slid open for the dramatic reveal.<\/p>\n

Wide-eyed, Simone stepped into a dazzlingly bright and colorful atrium. In the center of the room was a ball pit with rainbow-colored balls, and shiny plastic slides that looked like rainbows arcing out of fluffy white clouds. There seemed to be other rooms branching off the atrium, but the archways were hung with thick sheets of plastic that blocked her view. Apparently, there was still plenty of work to be done.<\/p>\n

Frankie\u2014who in addition to being the museum\u2019s founder was also its CEO\u2026and her new boss\u2014had said he\u2019d meet her here at nine o\u2019clock to give her the tour. She was early, as always. No matter how hard she tried to be on time, she was inevitably the first one to show up to dinner parties, the friend who held down the spot at the bar when everyone else was running late.<\/p>\n

Unable to wait any longer, she pulled out her phone and tapped the screen. There was a whole stack of text notifications. Cautiously, she scrolled through them. Two of her childhood friends, Laney and Mira, had said they\u2019d seen the post and were proud of her; they wanted to celebrate at their next catch-up brunch. Her university friends had revived their long-dormant group chat with a slew of celebratory memes. There was even a \u201cCongratulations!\u201d from her favorite Pilates instructor at the gym.<\/p>\n

Relief rippled through her\u2014until she saw the text message from Kathy. It was only two words, but they were arguably the most ominous two words a parent could text their child: \u201cCall me.\u201d<\/p>\n

It could only mean one thing:<\/p>\n

Her mother had seen the news.<\/p>\n

Simone glanced at the time in the corner of her screen. She still had fifteen minutes before she had to meet Frankie. She could call Kathy now, get through the first of what were sure to be many excruciating conversations about her newly revealed identity, and have a ready-made excuse to wrap things up early. She frantically looked around for somewhere private, her eyes landing on the nearest archway covered by a sheet of plastic. She hurried over and flung out an arm to sweep the plastic aside.<\/p>\n

Simone\u2019s hand collided with something hard on the other side of the sheet\u2014something that gave way, making her gasp. She heard the creaking of wood, followed by a deep male voice shouting, \u201cNO!\u201d<\/p>\n

Then came an earsplitting, ground-rattling crash. Followed by another creak, and another crash. Creak, crash. Creak, crash. On and on it went, like dominoes falling, until finally the cacophony stopped, and all Simone could hear was the deep voice letting out a roar of fury and frustration.<\/p>\n

It would have been easy to skitter away and avoid blame\u2014no one had seen her, after all\u2014but she couldn\u2019t just ruin someone\u2019s day and then leave them to pick up the pieces. Though she dreaded what lay on the other side, she swept the sheet back and surveyed the damage she\u2019d caused.<\/p>\n

She\u2019d assumed it would be bad.<\/p>\n

But not this bad.<\/p>\n

The room was designed like a larger-than-life garden out of Alice in Wonderland, with spindly metal flowers that stretched up to the high ceiling. The walls were covered in artificial moss, the concrete floor painted a rich forest green. In the center of the room\u2014the star of the show\u2014was a supersize dragonfly made of wood, its slender abdomen at least ten feet long. Only one of its wings was attached: a work of art in and of itself, with intricately carved veins. The remaining three wings, which had presumably been leaning against the wall next to the archway, were now lying in pieces at Simone\u2019s feet. A man wearing brown canvas pants and a tool belt stood at the other end of the wreckage, wincing as he clutched his wrist with the opposite hand. <\/p>\n

‘See You at the Summit’ by Jordyn Taylor<\/p>\n

\"'See<\/a><\/p>\n

\u201cI am so, so sorry,\u201d she squeaked. Then she noticed the rivulet of blood trickling from his wrist to his elbow and gasped. \u201cHere, take this.\u201d Frantically, she yanked the damp napkin off her cold-brew cup and raced toward him. Simone was so focused on the man\u2019s injury that she failed to pay attention to her own feet, and she stepped on a piece of wing. Delicate wooden veins that had miraculously survived the fall now crunched and snapped under the heel of her boot. Simone stumbled. As she stumbled, she squeezed her plastic cup. As she squeezed her plastic cup, the lid shot off. And as the lid shot off, her entire vat of cold brew arced through the air, landing squarely in the center of the man\u2019s white T-shirt.<\/p>\n

\u201cWHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!\u201d he yelled, lunging backward and wrenching the front of the soaking-wet shirt off his skin. His glare hit Simone as she staggered to a stop. He was a few inches north of six feet, and he looked to be in his early thirties, with hazel eyes and tousled mahogany-brown hair that spilled onto his forehead and curled around his ears. His nose and cheekbones were lightly dusted with freckles, his square jaw cloaked in stubble. The fact that he was objectively very attractive made Simone even more embarrassed than she already was. At this point, she would have gladly welcomed death by panic-induced chest implosion.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet me help you,\u201d she insisted, rushing over and dabbing at whatever she could reach: his bleeding wrist; his cold-brew-soaked shirt\u2014<\/p>\n

He jerked his arm away from her. \u201cJesus Christ! What is wrong with you? Can you not put that filthy napkin on my open cut?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry,\u201d she said quickly, crumpling the paper and shoving it in her pocket. She let out a shaky laugh. \u201cI\u2019m useless.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, you\u2019ve made that abundantly clear,\u201d he said. Instead of being offended, Simone was relieved they had something to agree on.<\/p>\n

She launched into another string of apologies, until the man silenced her with a stare that could have cut glass. Up close, Simone noticed that his eyes were strikingly unusual. His irises were gray around the outside, with a burst of greenish gold in the center. Like moss on a rock. Simone would have appreciated them more if they weren\u2019t smoldering with so much dislike. She desperately wanted to smooth things over. \u201cPlease, tell me what I can do\u2014anything.\u201d<\/p>\n

His glare became even sharper than before. Meanwhile, his wet shirt was clinging to his abs\u2014yet another part of his body she would have appreciated more under different circumstances. \u201cYou can leave me alone so I can deal with the month\u2019s worth of work you just ruined.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA . . . month?\u201d Simone felt like she was going to be sick (although she\u2019d definitely reached the quota of fluid she could expel in this man\u2019s vicinity).<\/p>\n

\u201cBelieve it or not, some people put actual hard work into the things they care about.\u201d His gaze faltered for a second before hardening again. \u201cWhy don\u2019t you go back to your fancy desk job and leave the lowly manual labor to me?\u201d<\/p>\n

The words hit Simone like a slap in the face. What did he think, that she was waltzing through life? That she\u2019d pushed through that hanging tarp without a care in the damn world? Little did he know that she was on the verge of potentially being disowned by her mother. Mr. Actual Hard Work didn\u2019t realize that she was going through her own personal hell, and that if he just made peace with her, he could take her morning from horrible to . . . well . . . slightly less horrible. But it would still have been something. Simone\u2019s bottom lip trembled. Not only had she wrecked his project, but apparently, she\u2019d also come off as an elitist asshole without realizing it. She didn\u2019t trust herself to say another word, and crying in front of him would only make things worse. Before she could break into tears, she turned on her heel and hurried back into the atrium. He didn\u2019t call after her and she certainly didn\u2019t look back.<\/p>\n

Her new boss, Frankie, was standing next to the ball pit, waiting for her.<\/p>\n

\u201cHaving a look around?\u201d he asked brightly. He was young for a CEO\u2014twenty-eight, according to the Globe and Mail profile she\u2019d read before her interview\u2014with a slim build and a patchy beard and moustache that didn\u2019t quite connect at the sides of his mouth. In that same Globe article, she\u2019d learned how Frankie had started the Rainbow Museum as a series of pop-up events where guests could learn about queer history, pose for photos on elaborate rainbow-colored sets, and shop retail items from queer-owned companies. Photos from the pop-ups had gone viral, which had led to visitors lining up around the block, which had led to Frankie raising twenty million dollars in venture capital to open a permanent brick-and-mortar location in the Village, with plans to open more locations nationwide. The Globe had called Frankie a \u201cwunderkind\u201d\u2014and here was Simone, about to look like a total fool in front of him.<\/p>\n

\u201cI accidentally knocked over some pieces of the dragonfly sculpture,\u201d she confessed immediately. She didn\u2019t want to keep quiet and have Frankie learn about the incident from Mr. Actual Hard Work.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh no, do we need to go pick them up?\u201d<\/p>\n

We need to not go anywhere near that man ever again, Simone thought. \u201cThe guy who was working in there\u2014I didn\u2019t catch his name\u2014he said he could handle it on his own.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRyan,\u201d Frankie supplied. \u201cOur head carpenter. He and the rest of our production team have been working their asses off to get the place done by the end of the month. They\u2019re almost there.\u201d<\/p>\n

They were almost there, she amended in her head. She still would have felt guiltier, if it hadn\u2019t been for his asshole comment at the end\u2014his apparent assumption that she\u2019d never struggled a day in her life. Men. They could be so self-centered. It was a good thing she didn\u2019t have to date them anymore if she didn\u2019t want to.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re sure he doesn\u2019t want our help?\u201d Frankie asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI tried,\u201d Simone said, balling her hands into fists in the pockets of her coat. \u201cHe wouldn\u2019t let me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Frankie chuckled and shook his head. \u201cStraight people are such a mystery to me,\u201d he said conspiratorially, as though he also assumed Simone found straight people to be a mystery. She felt a swelling in her chest, counteracting the pressure that had been there all morning. Then Frankie clapped his hands. \u201cAnyway, welcome to the Rainbow Museum! Allow me to give you the grand tour.\u201d<\/p>\n

Excerpted from See You at the Summit by Jordyn Taylor. Copyright \u00a9 2026 by Jordyn Taylor. Reprinted by permission of Gallery Books, an Imprint of Simon & Schuster, LLC.<\/strong><\/p>\n

See You at the Summit, by Jordyn Taylor will be released on January 27, 2026. To preorder the book, click on the retailer of your choice:<\/p>\n

AMAZON<\/a> AUDIBLE<\/a> BARNES & NOBLE<\/a> BOOKS-A-MILLION<\/a> BOOKSHOP<\/a> APPLE BOOKS<\/a> KOBO<\/a> LIBRO.FM<\/a> TARGET<\/a> WALMART<\/a> HUDSON BOOKSELLERS<\/a> GOOGLE PLAY<\/a><\/strong> EBOOKS.COM<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"One of the fun parts about being a journalist is getting to keep some major secrets and yes,…\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":81121,"comment_status":"","ping_status":"","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[31],"tags":[1022,2392,55596,1201,171,3181,2875,55595,67,132,68],"class_list":{"0":"post-81120","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-books","8":"tag-books","9":"tag-content-type-feature","10":"tag-contentid-083e3383-0933-42c6-b5f5-0871a8c171c6","11":"tag-displaytype-standard-article","12":"tag-entertainment","13":"tag-hasproduct-true","14":"tag-locale-us","15":"tag-shorttitle-jordyn-taylors-adult-debut-is-the-bi-romance-of-your-dreams","16":"tag-united-states","17":"tag-unitedstates","18":"tag-us"},"share_on_mastodon":{"url":"https:\/\/pubeurope.com\/@us\/114892320495810985","error":""},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/us\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/81120","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/us\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/us\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/us\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/us\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=81120"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/us\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/81120\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/us\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/81121"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/us\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=81120"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/us\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=81120"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/us\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=81120"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}