Novels by Mudie Noir

~Ace~ “Really, Ace. You've barely started with the hockey team and look at you, a suspension already?” My father barks through the phone, his voice tight with that familiar mix of anger and disappointment. “He deserved it,” I scoff, the memory flashing back instantly. ‘Maybe you can take this to your dead brother, Blackwood.’ That bastard's words rang in my head as I made my drink order. Fuck him. Fuck Kingsford. Fuck my father and his constant lectures. I've known Kade Salvatore was a prick long before I joined the team. I make it a point to read the profiles of all my potential teammates; it’s a habit. I like to know who I’m dealing with. I never even wanted to go to college in the first place. My parents insisted, stating that a higher education was "good for business." That's really what it all boils down to, isn't it? That's what happens when you're the sole heir to the number one hockey agency in the state. It’s a sickening, constant weight on my shoulders. “You get trigge

~Quinn~“Just stay low, clear your head for a week or two,” Alex tells me over the phone, his voice a calm and steady presence as I wheel my luggage across the hot tarmac towards the waiting private jet.“Is Mom still angry?” My voice is barely a whisper, more husky than usual from all the crying I did last night. My eyes still feel puffy and raw.“Yes and no. She’s angry about you leaving school, but she doesn't know yet about the you-know-what. What she really doesn't understand is why you're skipping classes all of a sudden,” he explains patiently.“It's okay, I'll call her when I land. You've taken the post down, right?” I sighed as a uniformed hostess approached and smoothly took my bags from me.“And disabled his account entirely,” Alex confirms. “Keep your own profile set to private and change your username to help bury it. Enjoy your time in Vegas, sweetie. You deserve it, after all of this. And please don't just stay in bed and cry all day over that d-ckhead. You'll get bette

~Quinn~“So, I'll see you around, huh?” He smiles, biting his lower lip, an action that causes a sudden, warm heat to pool deep underneath my belly as his car rolls to a stop in front of my dorm.“Yes, we'll see,” I grin back, hoping I sound cool and not completely desperate. The entire car ride over here has been surprisingly exciting. He's asked me more questions than I've asked him, like he's genuinely interested in knowing me. When he asks me about my mother's occupation, I quickly lie and say she's a chef at some random restaurant. I just can't tell him she’s the legendary coach who could make or break his entire career.I know lying when you're about to die is probably not a good look for me, but I promise myself I'll tell him the truth soon. If we actually work out, maybe I could even convince my mom to save a slot for him on the national team. It's something she would definitely do for me if I submitted that request along with my doctor's report. He was so nice, so soft, and l

~Quinn~“You can do this, Kade!” I scream from the stands, my voice almost lost in the rising boos echoing around the icy arena. The game has been brutal from the start, the opposing team dominating every play. Tensions were already high even before the puck dropped. One of Kingsford's players got into a nasty fight during warm-ups and got benched immediately. I’m pretty sure he sabotaged the team’s momentum, and now the whole audience is turning on them. At least Kade was the one who stepped in and broke up that initial scrap, everyone saw that.It’s only been a week since I moved into my dorm here at Kingsford, and honestly, I’ve loved every second. Mornings walking to class with a cheap coffee in hand, rainy nights spent watching old movies like Casablanca, lazy afternoons listening to Sombr playlists while I worked on my list. My list. So far, I’ve got twelve extra things written down:2. Go to Vegas with Kade Salvatore and have my first kiss.3. Attend a legendary Kingsford part

-JUNE-~Quinn's Pov~“Miss. Sinclair, the scans show metastatic cancer. It has spread from its original site to multiple organs. Given the aggressiveness and the extent of the tumours, curative treatment is no longer an option. I wish I had better news.”My entire body goes numb. The words don't sound real. They feel like something from a movie, a bad line of dialogue meant to manipulate an audience. But the grim set of Doctor Jane’s mouth is all too real."Lung cancer? How's that even possible? I don't even smoke,” I hear myself say. The protest is weak, pathetic. A last-ditch effort to argue against the inevitable.“I know, Quinn,” Doctor Jane breathes out slowly, switching into a more informal tone. She's been my family's doctor far before I was even born in this very hospital, and that long history makes her diagnosis somehow more credible. More credibly heart-wrenching. “I don't know if you recall the chlorine accident from six years ago?”“I...” My voice trails off as the memory