~*~ Excerpt ~*~ My Best Friend’s Ex by Meghan Quinn

MY BEST FRIEND’S EX by Meghan Quinn is live! ONE-
CLICK now!



MY BEST FRIEND’S EX

New Adult STANDALONE Romantic Comedy

Amazon
UK
CA
AU

When I found an eviction notice taped on my apartment door, I had two options: find a comfortable cardboard box to call home, or move in with Tucker Jameson.
Seeing that cardboard makes me feel itchy, I chose the latter. Which shouldn’t be that big of a deal since Tucker is one of my good friends. And because he’s still pining after his ex-girlfriend and I’m trying to finish my nursing degree, there is nothing to worry about in the romance department, making my last semester an easy one to conquer.
Boy, was I wrong.
Rules are set, dinners are made, conversations are had, and a shirtless, swoony roommate walks around in nothing but a pair of black briefs, ruining me for every other man.
Before I know it, I turn into a panting, lust-filled woman begging for Tucker to kiss me, touch me, and show me exactly what is hiding under those briefs.
But with great orgasms, comes great consequences.
Tucker might be my friend and roommate but he’s also my best friend’s ex-boyfriend, making him completely off-limits. At least that’s what my brain is telling me, my heart is speaking an entirely different language.

~*~

~*~

Excerpt

I step out into the chilly Saturday afternoon air and quickly zip up my jacket. The weather has been decent all week but the day I have to move, it’s scattered flurries and nipple-tightening cold.

Before I head to the back of the truck, I take in the sweet and quaint neighborhood. All the houses resemble the Cape Cod-style but different from one another in their own right. All very well kept making it seem like the perfect little place to live, a neighborhood I would never have pictured Tucker living in. Seems almost odd, like a family belongs here . . .

Oh my God.

A family.

My heart feels like it falls out of my chest as my brain starts connecting the dots. This house, this neighborhood, it’s meant for a family, a family Tucker planned on having, a family he lost. My breathing starts to pick up, my throat closing in, just as Tucker pops out of the side door, hands tucked in his pockets as he approaches, a small smile on his face.

“Need some help?”

I push back the tears that want to fall for my friend and nod, knowing words won’t form right now.

Tucker starts to walk past me to the back of the truck when he stops right in front of me and lifts my chin so I’m forced to make eye contact. Please don’t see my sorrow; please don’t see the pain I feel for your loss.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, way too perceptive for my liking.

 

“Uh, nothing. Just chilly.” I sniff.

He studies me, looking between my eyes, searching for answers. The intensity is almost too intense, it’s breaking my walls, disintegrating me under his light touch.

“Is everything okay over there?” Logan calls from behind the truck, pulling both our gazes toward him.

I shake Tucker off and nod as I head back to the truck to start unloading. “Just cold, that’s all.”

Not buying it, Logan whispers, “Did he fucking say something to you?”

“What?” I ask, surprised. “No, of course not. I just . . .” I lean forward and say, “I thought of something, I’ll tell you later.”

“Promise me.”

“Promise.”

Putting on a bright smile, even though it feels like there is a battle of emotions creating a war inside me, I start unloading, watching Tucker lift two boxes at a time, Logan following right behind him. Thankful for two strong men helping me, I lift a sitting chair my grandma gave me that I repurposed and follow them both into the house. We walk through the front where I’m greeted by a white fireplace off to the right, brilliantly beautiful oak wood floors, and a spacious living room that’s connected to a dining room by a sweet archway. The thick moldings and antique knobs give the house vintage character, making it more than charming. But with all its little bits and pieces of character, it’s lacking one big thing, furniture. There is absolutely no furniture in the house, nothing hung, not even a knickknack above the

 

fireplace. Not that Tucker is a knickknack kind of guy, but a picture frame would have at least added some hominess to the space.

“Tucker, your house is so cute.”

“Thanks. Back here.” He leads us past the dining room that connects to the kitchen and a staircase leading to what I’m going to assume is the master bedroom, and off to the left, a small hallway. We veer off to the right and into a bedroom that is spacious, much more spacious than I was expecting. There are two large windows that span almost the length of the wall and the beautiful floors I can’t get over continue into the bedroom as well. The walls are a neutral grey, which is a nice calming tone, and the room right next to mine is a bathroom. The space couldn’t be more perfect.

“This is my room?” I take it all in. “Wow, I feel a little spoiled.”

Logan nods his head and it almost sounds like it pains him to say, “It’s nice.”

“Thanks.” Tucker sets the boxes down and says, “Unfortunately, there is one bathroom so we will have to share, so I hope that’s not a problem.”

“Not a problem at all. Just knock before you walk in.” I wink which brings a light smile to Tucker’s lips.

“Kitchen is around the corner, make yourself at home in there, pretty much everywhere.” He pulls on the back of his neck, his bicep flexing in the process and the strain in in his jaw concerns me. “Uh, I just ask one thing of you.”

“If you’re going to suggest walking around naked on Mondays and Wednesdays, I’m going to have to decline.” I joke but my humor barely reaches his eyes.

 

Instead of returning the humor, he says, “The room across from yours . . . it’s off limits. Please don’t go in there, don’t ask to go in there, don’t even ask me about it, just leave it alone.” He shifts in place, his eyes fixed on the floor beneath us. “Everything else in the house is yours to play around with, do whatever, set up yoga classes in the living room for all I care, please just don’t talk about the room across from yours, okay?”

“Okay.” I nod vigorously, wanting to convey to him he can trust me.

“Okay,” he repeats, letting out a pent-up breath. “Uh, I’ll go get some more boxes. You can start unpacking if you want so you don’t have to go out in the cold.”

He steps away, just as Logan calls out, “Right behind you.” When Tucker is out of earshot, he leans in and whispers, “What the fuck was that about? What’s in that room?”

I have a pretty damn good idea, but I’m not about to talk about it because the mere thought of what rests behind that door breaks my heart. And it’s abundantly clear it still breaks Tucker’s heart too. Oh God. Has he suffered through this alone?

“Nothing bad. I’m sure just something he doesn’t want to talk about right now. Go get some more boxes and stay away from my underwear.”

He scoffs. “You think so low of me, Emma. It burns my soul.” He holds his chest in mock hurt.

Rolling my eyes, I push him toward the door as he laughs and walks out to the truck to help Tucker, leaving me in my new space all to myself. Spinning around, I take it all in. Not a bad place at all to spend my last semester in college. I’m already half in l

 

ove with the little house. Tucker chose so well. As much as I know Tucker and Sadie weren’t right for each other, seeing this very vivid manifestation of his commitment to Sadie, my heart breaks a little more. I didn’t grow up in a house like this, and just in the few moments, I feel myself growing attached. I can’t help wonder if it’s because of the powerful gesture behind it’s purchase though.

But that’s nothing I have to worry about now. I have a warm, lovely place to stay. The unease in my heart about living with Tucker starts to unravel as realization sets in, I have my own space for the next few months, a comfortable space with an old friend. An old friend I desperately want to reconnect with because even though I’m here to study, I also want to help Tucker, I want to know everything about him and learn about everything I missed out on this past year.

~*~
About the Author:
Born in New York and raised in Southern California, Meghan has grown into a sassy, peanut butter eating, blonde haired swearing, animal hoarding lady. She is known to bust out and dance if “It’s Raining Men” starts beating through the air and heaven forbid you get a margarita in her, protect your legs because they may be humped.
Once she started commuting for an hour and twenty minutes every day to work for three years, she began to have conversations play in her head, real life, deep male voices and dainty lady coos kind of conversations. Perturbed and confused, she decided to either see a therapist about the hot and steamy voices running through her head or start writing them down. She decided to go with the cheaper option and started writing… enter her first novel, Caught Looking.
Now you can find the spicy, most definitely on the border of lunacy, kind of crazy lady residing in Colorado with the love of her life and her five, furry four legged children, hiking a trail or hiding behind shelves at grocery stores, wondering what kind of lube the nervous stranger will bring home to his wife. Oh and she loves a good boob squeeze!
Find me on Goodreads:

~*~ New Release & Review ~*~ My Best Friend’s Ex by Meghan Quinn

MY BEST FRIEND’S EX by Meghan Quinn is live! ONE-
CLICK now!



MY BEST FRIEND’S EX
New Adult STANDALONE Romantic Comedy

Amazon
UK
CA
AU

When I found an eviction notice taped on my apartment door, I had two options: find a comfortable cardboard box to call home, or move in with Tucker Jameson.
Seeing that cardboard makes me feel itchy, I chose the latter. Which shouldn’t be that big of a deal since Tucker is one of my good friends. And because he’s still pining after his ex-girlfriend and I’m trying to finish my nursing degree, there is nothing to worry about in the romance department, making my last semester an easy one to conquer.
Boy, was I wrong.
Rules are set, dinners are made, conversations are had, and a shirtless, swoony roommate walks around in nothing but a pair of black briefs, ruining me for every other man.
Before I know it, I turn into a panting, lust-filled woman begging for Tucker to kiss me, touch me, and show me exactly what is hiding under those briefs.
But with great orgasms, comes great consequences.
Tucker might be my friend and roommate but he’s also my best friend’s ex-boyfriend, making him completely off-limits. At least that’s what my brain is telling me, my heart is speaking an entirely different language.

~*~

My Review:

Firstly I want to give a HUGE thanks to the lovely Meghan for kindly providing me with a copy of “My Best Friends Ex”
I absolutely FLOVED this book, heartbreaking at times, gut wrenching even…
I really enjoyed Emma. She’s smart, sassy and a bit raunchy and I loved that about her.
And then there’s Tucker. Fucking Tucker.
The man stole my heart.
His past has made him alone and hurting and he has the oh so sexy brooding feeling to him.
Until Emma comes along and slowly turns him into the man that we all fall for.
My Best Friend’s Ex is hilarious, witty, sassy and fun.
It also has a bit of angst that tightly binds everything into one amazing package.
The banter back and forth between Emma and Tucker, Emma and her friends and Tucker and Racer is so fun and they had me rolling most of the time.
Meghan’s writing has got to be some of the best in the business.
She writes relatable characters that have deep feelings and are in realistic situations.
Romance readers- if your looking for a book that will make you laugh-out-loud and completely touch your heart this is the book you need! I promise, you will not be disappointed.
If you’re new to the author, I think you will become addicted to her novels, I know I am.
~*~
About the Author:
Born in New York and raised in Southern California, Meghan has grown into a sassy, peanut butter eating, blonde haired swearing, animal hoarding lady. She is known to bust out and dance if “It’s Raining Men” starts beating through the air and heaven forbid you get a margarita in her, protect your legs because they may be humped.
Once she started commuting for an hour and twenty minutes every day to work for three years, she began to have conversations play in her head, real life, deep male voices and dainty lady coos kind of conversations. Perturbed and confused, she decided to either see a therapist about the hot and steamy voices running through her head or start writing them down. She decided to go with the cheaper option and started writing… enter her first novel, Caught Looking.
Now you can find the spicy, most definitely on the border of lunacy, kind of crazy lady residing in Colorado with the love of her life and her five, furry four legged children, hiking a trail or hiding behind shelves at grocery stores, wondering what kind of lube the nervous stranger will bring home to his wife. Oh and she loves a good boob squeeze!
Find me on Goodreads:

~*~ Cover Reveal ~*~ My Best Friend’s Ex by Meghan Quinn

Check out this amazing cover for MY BEST FRIEND’S EX by Meghan Quinn releasing on June 1st! 

 



MY BEST FRIEND’S EX
NA Romantic Comedy
Release Date: June 1, 2017
When I found an eviction notice taped on my apartment door, I had two options: find a comfortable cardboard box to call home, or move in with Tucker Jameson.
Seeing that cardboard makes me feel itchy, I chose the latter. Which shouldn’t be that big of a deal since Tucker is one of my good friends. And because he’s still pining after his ex-girlfriend and I’m trying to finish my nursing degree, there is nothing to worry about in the romance department, making my last semester an easy one to conquer.
Boy, was I wrong.
Rules are set, dinners are made, conversations are had, and a shirtless, swoony roommate walks around in nothing but a pair of black briefs, ruining me for every other man.
Before I know it, I turn into a panting, lust-filled woman begging for Tucker to kiss me, touch me, and show me exactly what is hiding under those briefs.
But with great orgasms, comes great consequences.
Tucker might be my friend and roommate but he’s also my best friend’s ex-boyfriend, making him completely off-limits. At least that’s what my brain is telling me, my heart is speaking an entirely different language.
About the Author:
Born in New York and raised in Southern California, Meghan has grown into a sassy, peanut butter eating, blonde haired swearing, animal hoarding lady. She is known to bust out and dance if “It’s Raining Men” starts beating through the air and heaven forbid you get a margarita in her, protect your legs because they may be humped.
Once she started commuting for an hour and twenty minutes every day to work for three years, she began to have conversations play in her head, real life, deep male voices and dainty lady coos kind of conversations. Perturbed and confused, she decided to either see a therapist about the hot and steamy voices running through her head or start writing them down. She decided to go with the cheaper option and started writing… enter her first novel, Caught Looking.
Now you can find the spicy, most definitely on the border of lunacy, kind of crazy lady residing in Colorado with the love of her life and her five, furry four legged children, hiking a trail or hiding behind shelves at grocery stores, wondering what kind of lube the nervous stranger will bring home to his wife. Oh and she loves a good boob squeeze!
Find me on Goodreads:

~*~ Release Day Blast ~*~ Dear Life By Meghan Quinn



We’re celebrating the release of DEAR LIFE by Meghan Quinn! Available on Amazon and #Free on Kindle Unlimited!

 

 

 

DEAR LIFE
NA Contemporary Romance
Designed by: Meghan Quinn
Photographer: Lauren Perry

Goodreads
AMAZON: http://amzn.to/2iBjcT9

Four lives. Four stories. Four sets of letters. Four brave souls in need of guidance while facing life’s greatest challenges.
The anonymously published Dear Life program is designed to help them step outside of their comfort zones, face their obstacles, and relinquish their demons…and prove their existence.
With their lives teetering between wanting more and losing it all, all four souls dive
into the program as a New Year’s resolution, sending them on a crazy, life-altering journey.
Dear Life,
Please be kind.
Yours truly, Hollyn, Jace, Daisy, and Carter.

 

About the Author:
Born in New York and raised in Southern California, Meghan has grown into a sassy, peanut butter eating, blonde haired swearing, animal hoarding lady. She is known to bust out and dance if “It’s Raining Men” starts beating through the air and heaven forbid you get a margarita in her, protect your legs because they may be humped.
Once she started commuting for an hour and twenty minutes every day to work for three years, she began to have conversations play in her head, real life, deep male
voices and dainty lady coos kind of conversations. Perturbed and confused, she decided to either see a therapist about the hot and steamy voices running through her head or start writing them down. She decided to go with the cheaper option and started writing… enter her first novel, Caught Looking.
Now you can find the spicy, most definitely on the border of lunacy, kind of crazy lady residing in Colorado with the love of her life and her five, furry four legged children, hiking a trail or hiding behind shelves at grocery stores, wondering what kind of lube the nervous stranger will bring home to his wife. Oh and she loves a good boob squeeze!
Find me on Goodreads:

~*~ Cover Reveal ~*~ Deal Life By Meghan Quinn

We are so excited for this release! Check out the amazing cover for DEAR LIFE by Meghan Quinn! 

 

 

DEAR LIFE
NA Contemporary Romance
Designed by: Meghan Quinn
Photographer: Lauren Perry

Goodreads

Four lives. Four stories. Four sets of letters. Four brave souls in need of guidance while facing life’s greatest challenges.
The anonymously published Dear Life program is designed to help them step outside of their comfort zones, face their obstacles, and relinquish their demons…and prove their existence.
With their lives teetering between wanting more and losing it all, all four souls dive into the program as a New Year’s resolution, sending them on a crazy, life-altering journey.
Dear Life,
Please be kind.
Yours truly, Hollyn, Jace, Daisy, and Carter.

 


About the Author:
Born in New York and raised in Southern California, Meghan has grown into a sassy, peanut butter eating, blonde haired swearing, animal hoarding lady. She is known to bust out and dance if “It’s Raining Men” starts beating through the air and heaven forbid you get a margarita in her, protect your legs because they may be humped.
Once she started commuting for an hour and twenty minutes every day to work for three years, she began to have conversations play in her head, real life, deep male voices and dainty lady coos kind of conversations. Perturbed and confused, she decided to either see a therapist about the hot and steamy voices running through her head or start writing them down. She decided to go with the cheaper option and started writing… enter her first novel, Caught Looking.
Now you can find the spicy, most definitely on the border of lunacy, kind of crazy lady residing in Colorado with the love of her life and her five, furry four legged children, hiking a trail or hiding behind shelves at grocery stores, wondering what kind of lube the nervous stranger will bring home to his wife. Oh and she loves a good boob squeeze!
Find me on Goodreads:

~*~ Review Tour ~*~ Stroked Hard By Meghan Quinn



We’re celebrating the release of STROKED HARD! Check out the excerpt and teasers below!

 

STROKED HARD
Scheduled to release: November 1, 2016

Sports Romance
Cover Designed by: Indie Solutions by Murphy Rae

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2dGA5s9
iBooks: http://apple.co/2eQuMZR
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2dPh3Qc
Nook: to come!

He’s hot. Like, stop breathing kind of hot with his killer body, vivid blue eyes, and constant five o’clock shadow.
Did I mention his body?
Watching Hollis Knightly, Olympic diving gold medalist, man-pony specialist—and cocky bastard—stand up on the diving platform in nothing but a small piece of Spandex? Yeah, I’m beguiled.
And easily seduced.
I want to keep things light but he won’t leave me alone. And hell, if he’s not wearing me thin.
What is supposed to be a simple summer fling with a very hot man, has now morphed into a f*cked-up mess of feelings, attachment, and dare I say it…love. But I don’t do relationships. And Hollis Knightly does.

Excerpt:

A joke about Reese getting his makeup done is on the tip of my tongue when I turn to see a little brunette with sun-kissed hair, beautifully bronzed skin, and the biggest fucking green eyes I’ve ever seen standing behind Reese. 
 
Holy shit. 
 
The hottest fucking woman I’ve ever seen is standing behind him wearing ripped jean shorts, a tight-as-hell white tank top, and teal Converse. Her hair is shoulder length, wavy, and looks so fucking soft that all I want to do is bury my head in it. But what’s really causing my pants to grow tighter by the minute are her pink-glossed plump lips. I’m mesmerized by the way the lights bounce off them and I can’t fucking help the way my mind wanders, wondering all the ways I can have fun with those lips. 
 
“Are you coming, man?” Reese asks as he walks away.
 
What? Oh shit. 
 
“Sure. You need me to hold your hand like last time?” I ask, chasing after them. “I don’t mind, but when the scary blow dryer comes at you again, I won’t be cleaning your inner thighs again from pee dribble. I did it once and it was fucking creepy. Never again.”
 
I don’t get a response besides the middle finger directed at me from behind his back.
 
Reese sits in a black chair, his large body making the poor seat look like a toothpick. He exhales and slouches as Miss Pouty Lips starts to play around with his hair. 
 
Jealousy instantly consumes me. I want to blast my best friend from his seat and take his place just to experience the feel of her pink painted nails running through my hair. 
 
Are her toes painted pink as well? Or does she have them painted a different shade? Fuck, I don’t care, either way I’m hell-bent on figuring it out. 
 
“Do you have dryland later today or do you want to grab dinner?” Reese asks, pulling my eyes off her fingers for a second. 
 
“Are you paying?”
 
“Cheap fuck.”
 
I shrug. “I save my money for more important things, like dates.” The girl looks up at me and gives me a courtesy smile. Eh, I’ll take it. “Dude, you’re so fucking rude.”
 
“What did I do?” Reese asks. 
 
“Uh, you didn’t introduce me to your friend.” I nod at the girl. 
 
“Because I don’t even know her name.” Reese looks a little ashamed as he admits his fault. 
 
I come closer and say, “Then you are fucking rude.” I hold my hand out. “Hi, I’m Hollis and this is my rude as fuck friend, Reese.”
 
The girl shakes my hand quickly, giving me a brief taste of how her palm would match up with mine. “Melony. Nice to meet you.”
 
“Melony, what a beautiful name.”
 
Reese snorts, right between us. Not in an awkward kind of a way, more in a dude’s blowing up my game kind of way. 
 
He sits back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. “Oh shit, this is going to
be good.”
 
Ignoring him, I keep my attention focused on Melony. “Do you frequent these shoots often?”
 
Another snort. “That’s the best you got?” Reese asks. “Come on, man. You’re better than the old ‘you come around here often’ pick-up line.”
 
He’s right, but fuck, I’m kind of thrown off my game a little. It’s the glossiness of her lips; they’re distracting me. Would that gloss help her slide right along my dick? 
 
Melony ignores Reese’s barb and says, “I do all hair and makeup for the show, mostly for Bellini.”
 
Conversation door open. 
 
“Oh shit, and you haven’t been burnt by dragon lady’s spitting fire yet?”
 
She flips her hair to the side and grins at me. “Why do you think my hair is short?”
 
Fuck. I like her. Just like that. The sexy grin, the flip of her soft hair, the mischief in her eyes. Yup, I’m a fucking goner. 
 
But just as soon as the words slip from her mouth, she straightens up and looks at Reese. “Oh crap. I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry, Mr. King. Bellini is . . .” she swallows
hard and continues, “a nice lady.”
 
Reese waves it off. “She can be a bitch.”
 
It’s all he says but I know what he really means. Bellini is the epitome of the devil reincarnated. Unfortunately, given his situation, he has to be politically correct. Frankly I don’t know why he’s putting himself through this kind of torture. Trials aren’t for six months; you would think his publicist could come up with something else for him to do after his last stint at the Olympics. If I were him, I would fire my publicist’s ass. 
 
“Reese, can you spare a moment over here for a second?” a squirrely man I know by the name of Jasper asks. Reese excuses himself giving me the perfect opportunity to talk with Melony. 
 
She’s washing some makeup brushes, busying herself and staying as far away from me as possible. Too bad for her, I have other plans. 
 
“Where are you from, Melony?” She glances in my direction but turns back to her brushes. 
 
“Here,” she says curtly. 
 
“Born and raised a Cali girl, huh? That’s—”
 
“I’m going to stop you right there.” She holds her hand up. “I see where this is going.”
 
“And where is this going?” I ask, stepping closer to her. 
 
She gives me the once-over and puts her hand on her hip. “You say some cheesy stuff trying to get to know me. To be polite, I’ll entertain you and then you’ll ask me out. I’ll say no and then you’ll take that as a challenge.”
 
I scrunch my nose. “You would say no?” That’s kind of a first for me, so I’m interested to hear her answer. 
 
“Not used to the word? Does the Olympic diver always get what he wants?”
 
“Ah, so you know who I am.” I knowingly point at her. “I knew you did from the way you tried to see through my shirt. Don’t worry, sweetheart, the abs everyone talks about are real.”
 
She scoffs. “You’re pathetic.”
 
Well, that’s a first as well. 
 
“Are you trying to make me cry?” I tease. 
 
Rolling her eyes, she steps away, putting unwanted distance between us. “Seriously, not going to happen, Hollis, so pack up your pick-up lines and take them somewhere else.”
 
“Wow.” I rest my hip against one of the tables full of beauty shit and cross my arms
over my chest. “Flatter yourself much? Who says I was even trying to pick you up? What if I was just trying to be nice? That’s kind of embarrassing for you, assuming such a thing.”
 
“Please, Hollis. Nice try. It’s not going to happen.”
 
Growing irritated, I ask, “And why not?”
 
“Because.” She points a makeup brush at me. “You’re not my type and I have zero interest in pursuing a relationship with you.” With that, she fucking wags her pert little ass away from me. 
 
Well, fuck me. That didn’t go as planned.

My Review:

O.K – here goes…..
Hollis….what is there to not love about this hot-as-hell, wash-board-abs of a man? I mean come on..he is hot, an Olympic gold medal winner, he reads love stories (Sayyy whhhaatttt) and wants dote on a female! SCORE!!! He is the total package. He says the most inappropriate things at the most appropriate times. I found myself not only laughing out loud but snorting at his quick and witty one liners. Good lord..this guy had me cracking up…and somehow the more inappropriate he is, the more I adore him!!
Melony….she is just the most adorable girl with some major daddy issues! She is a hair and makeup artist…for the none other super-bitch Bellini.
I love Melony…not only does she deal with the she-devil on a daily basis but she is strong as sh&t. I know at times I question her strength but she is tough as nails. And the minute Hollis sees her…its ON!!
For months and I mean months, he chases her….with no avail.
I honestly do not know how Melony lasts as long as she does without giving in and just talking to him or going on a date.
Hollis’ belief that Melony as his one and only had her running, but they both enjoyed the cat and mouse game they were playing and that had me enjoying the chase as well. With Hollis’ calculated randomness and Melony’s snarky wit they are a match made in heaven and the sexual chemistry between them was H-to the O- to the T! But the sweet moments were what showed just how good they could be together if given the chance, okay, if Melony would give them a shot.
This is a great, light hearted read with plenty of witty banter and moments that had me laughing out loud and also swooning which is just what i have come to expect from Meghan’s book. Would i recommend it, errrr……. hell yes.
Boo and Bear, unconditional love, and tons of laughs. That’s Stroked Hard.
 Hahahaha the epilogues with Bellini…totally priceless, bitch got what she deserved!

 

 

NOW AVAILABLE!

STROKED by Meghan Quinn
Released: July 19, 2016
Cover Designer: Murphy Rae

BLURB:
Reese King: Olympic medalist, underwear model, Greek god.

His body is chiseled from rock, sculpted by the weight room, and refined by water.

On a daily basis his skin is completely bare for everyone to see, tan and defined, only covered up by a minuscule piece of spandex. There is no denying his sex appeal.

I hate to admit it, but I’m head over heels infatuated with him.

There is one HUGE problem though. His achingly gorgeous abs, inked up arm, and cocky swagger belong to my boss, the high-profile, reality star bitch from hell and certified heinous human being, Bellini Chambers.

What I think is going to be an easy job assisting a glorified wench turns into a cluster f*ck of epic proportions.

STROKED LONG by Meghan Quinn
Scheduled to release: September 20, 2016

Sports Romance
Cover Designed by: Indie Solutions by Murphy Rae

BLURB:
From his dirty-blond hair and breathtaking smile, to the abs from heaven and the irresistible V in his waistline, everything about Bodi Olympic-gold-medalist Banks screams hot piece of @$$.
Yet there’s more.
Dark shadows lurk behind his soulful, serious eyes.
I’m enamored. He’s captured me.
How can running an art foundation with Bodi Banks turns into a slow-burning, epic romance, even though he tries to push me away at every chance? How can I stay away from a broken, routine-driven man whose soul cries to be forgiven for a crime only he believes he committed? Or is that a lie?

**STROKED LONG can be read as a stand alone.

About the Author:

Born in New York and raised in Southern California, Meghan has grown into a sassy, peanut butter eating, blonde haired swearing, animal hoarding lady. She is known to bust out and dance if “It’s Raining Men” starts beating through the air and heaven forbid you get a margarita in her, protect your legs because they may be humped.
Once she started commuting for an hour and twenty minutes every day to work for three years, she began to have conversations play in her head, real life, deep male
voices and dainty lady coos kind of conversations. Perturbed and confused, she decided to either see a therapist about the hot and steamy voices running through her head or start writing them down. She decided to go with the cheaper option and started writing… enter her first novel, Caught Looking.
Now you can find the spicy, most definitely on the border of lunacy, kind of crazy lady residing in Colorado with the love of her life and her five, furry four legged children, hiking a trail or hiding behind shelves at grocery stores, wondering what kind of lube the nervous stranger will bring home to his wife. Oh and she loves a good boob squeeze!
Find me on Goodreads:

~*~ New Release ~*~ Stroked Hard By Meghan Quinn



We’re celebrating the release of STROKED HARD! Check out the excerpt and teasers below!

 

STROKED HARD
Scheduled to release: November 1, 2016

Sports Romance
Cover Designed by: Indie Solutions by Murphy Rae

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2dGA5s9
iBooks: http://apple.co/2eQuMZR
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2dPh3Qc
Nook: to come!

He’s hot. Like, stop breathing kind of hot with his killer body, vivid blue eyes, and constant five o’clock shadow.
Did I mention his body?
Watching Hollis Knightly, Olympic diving gold medalist, man-pony specialist—and cocky bastard—stand up on the diving platform in nothing but a small piece of Spandex? Yeah, I’m beguiled.
And easily seduced.
I want to keep things light but he won’t leave me alone. And hell, if he’s not wearing me thin.
What is supposed to be a simple summer fling with a very hot man, has now morphed into a f*cked-up mess of feelings, attachment, and dare I say it…love. But I don’t do relationships. And Hollis Knightly does.
Excerpt:
A joke about Reese getting his makeup done is on the tip of my tongue when I turn to see a little brunette with sun-kissed hair, beautifully bronzed skin, and the biggest fucking green eyes I’ve ever seen standing behind Reese. 
 
Holy shit. 
 
The hottest fucking woman I’ve ever seen is standing behind him wearing ripped jean shorts, a tight-as-hell white tank top, and teal Converse. Her hair is shoulder length, wavy, and looks so fucking soft that all I want to do is bury my head in it. But what’s really causing my pants to grow tighter by the minute are her pink-glossed plump lips. I’m mesmerized by the way the lights bounce off them and I can’t fucking help the way my mind wanders, wondering all the ways I can have fun with those lips. 
 
“Are you coming, man?” Reese asks as he walks away.
 
What? Oh shit. 
 
“Sure. You need me to hold your hand like last time?” I ask, chasing after them. “I don’t mind, but when the scary blow dryer comes at you again, I won’t be cleaning your inner thighs again from pee dribble. I did it once and it was fucking creepy. Never again.”
 
I don’t get a response besides the middle finger directed at me from behind his back.
 
Reese sits in a black chair, his large body making the poor seat look like a toothpick. He exhales and slouches as Miss Pouty Lips starts to play around with his hair. 
 
Jealousy instantly consumes me. I want to blast my best friend from his seat and take his place just to experience the feel of her pink painted nails running through my hair. 
 
Are her toes painted pink as well? Or does she have them painted a different shade? Fuck, I don’t care, either way I’m hell-bent on figuring it out. 
 
“Do you have dryland later today or do you want to grab dinner?” Reese asks, pulling my eyes off her fingers for a second. 
 
“Are you paying?”
 
“Cheap fuck.”
 
I shrug. “I save my money for more important things, like dates.” The girl looks up at me and gives me a courtesy smile. Eh, I’ll take it. “Dude, you’re so fucking rude.”
 
“What did I do?” Reese asks. 
 
“Uh, you didn’t introduce me to your friend.” I nod at the girl. 
 
“Because I don’t even know her name.” Reese looks a little ashamed as he admits his fault. 
 
I come closer and say, “Then you are fucking rude.” I hold my hand out. “Hi, I’m Hollis and this is my rude as fuck friend, Reese.”
 
The girl shakes my hand quickly, giving me a brief taste of how her palm would match up with mine. “Melony. Nice to meet you.”
 
“Melony, what a beautiful name.”
 
Reese snorts, right between us. Not in an awkward kind of a way, more in a dude’s blowing up my game kind of way. 
 
He sits back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. “Oh shit, this is going to be good.”
 
Ignoring him, I keep my attention focused on Melony. “Do you frequent these shoots often?”
 
Another snort. “That’s the best you got?” Reese asks. “Come on, man. You’re better than the old ‘you come around here often’ pick-up line.”
 
He’s right, but fuck, I’m kind of thrown off my game a little. It’s the glossiness of her lips; they’re distracting me. Would that gloss help her slide right along my dick? 
 
Melony ignores Reese’s barb and says, “I do all hair and makeup for the show, mostly for Bellini.”
 
Conversation door open. 
 
“Oh shit, and you haven’t been burnt by dragon lady’s spitting fire yet?”
 
She flips her hair to the side and grins at me. “Why do you think my hair is short?”
 
Fuck. I like her. Just like that. The sexy grin, the flip of her soft hair, the mischief in her eyes. Yup, I’m a fucking goner. 
 
But just as soon as the words slip from her mouth, she straightens up and looks at Reese. “Oh crap. I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry, Mr. King. Bellini is . . .” she swallows hard and continues, “a nice lady.”
 
Reese waves it off. “She can be a bitch.”
 
It’s all he says but I know what he really means. Bellini is the epitome of the devil reincarnated. Unfortunately, given his situation, he has to be politically correct. Frankly I don’t know why he’s putting himself through this kind of torture. Trials aren’t for six months; you would think his publicist could come up with something else for him to do after his last stint at the Olympics. If I were him, I would fire my publicist’s ass. 
 
“Reese, can you spare a moment over here for a second?” a squirrely man I know by the name of Jasper asks. Reese excuses himself giving me the perfect opportunity to talk with Melony. 
 
She’s washing some makeup brushes, busying herself and staying as far away from me as possible. Too bad for her, I have other plans. 
 
“Where are you from, Melony?” She glances in my direction but turns back to her brushes. 
 
“Here,” she says curtly. 
 
“Born and raised a Cali girl, huh? That’s—”
 
“I’m going to stop you right there.” She holds her hand up. “I see where this is going.”
 
“And where is this going?” I ask, stepping closer to her. 
 
She gives me the once-over and puts her hand on her hip. “You say some cheesy stuff trying to get to know me. To be polite, I’ll entertain you and then you’ll ask me out. I’ll say no and then you’ll take that as a challenge.”
 
I scrunch my nose. “You would say no?” That’s kind of a first for me, so I’m interested to hear her answer. 
 
“Not used to the word? Does the Olympic diver always get what he wants?”
 
“Ah, so you know who I am.” I knowingly point at her. “I knew you did from the way you tried to see through my shirt. Don’t worry, sweetheart, the abs everyone talks about are real.”
 
She scoffs. “You’re pathetic.”
 
Well, that’s a first as well. 
 
“Are you trying to make me cry?” I tease. 
 
Rolling her eyes, she steps away, putting unwanted distance between us. “Seriously, not going to happen, Hollis, so pack up your pick-up lines and take them somewhere else.”
 
“Wow.” I rest my hip against one of the tables full of beauty shit and cross my arms over my chest. “Flatter yourself much? Who says I was even trying to pick you up? What if I was just trying to be nice? That’s kind of embarrassing for you, assuming such a thing.”
 
“Please, Hollis. Nice try. It’s not going to happen.”
 
Growing irritated, I ask, “And why not?”
 
“Because.” She points a makeup brush at me. “You’re not my type and I have zero interest in pursuing a relationship with you.” With that, she fucking wags her pert little ass away from me. 
 
Well, fuck me. That didn’t go as planned.

 

 

NOW AVAILABLE!

 

STROKED by Meghan Quinn
Released: July 19, 2016
Cover Designer: Murphy Rae

BLURB:
Reese King: Olympic medalist, underwear model, Greek god.

His body is chiseled from rock, sculpted by the weight room, and refined by water.

On a daily basis his skin is completely bare for everyone to see, tan and defined, only covered up by a minuscule piece of spandex. There is no denying his sex appeal.

I hate to admit it, but I’m head over heels infatuated with him.

There is one HUGE problem though. His achingly gorgeous abs, inked up arm, and cocky swagger belong to my boss, the high-profile, reality star bitch from hell and certified heinous human being, Bellini Chambers.

What I think is going to be an easy job assisting a glorified wench turns into a cluster f*ck of epic proportions.

STROKED LONG by Meghan Quinn
Scheduled to release: September 20, 2016

Sports Romance
Cover Designed by: Indie Solutions by Murphy Rae

BLURB:
From his dirty-blond hair and breathtaking smile, to the abs from heaven and the irresistible V in his waistline, everything about Bodi Olympic-gold-medalist Banks screams hot piece of @$$.
Yet there’s more.
Dark shadows lurk behind his soulful, serious eyes.
I’m enamored. He’s captured me.
How can running an art foundation with Bodi Banks turns into a slow-burning, epic romance, even though he tries to push me away at every chance? How can I stay away from a broken, routine-driven man whose soul cries to be forgiven for a crime only he believes he committed? Or is that a lie?

**STROKED LONG can be read as a stand alone.

About the Author:

Born in New York and raised in Southern California, Meghan has grown into a sassy, peanut butter eating, blonde haired swearing, animal hoarding lady. She is known to bust out and dance if “It’s Raining Men” starts beating through the air and heaven forbid you get a margarita in her, protect your legs because they may be humped.
Once she started commuting for an hour and twenty minutes every day to work for three years, she began to have conversations play in her head, real life, deep male voices and dainty lady coos kind of conversations. Perturbed and confused, she decided to either see a therapist about the hot and steamy voices running through her head or start writing them down. She decided to go with the cheaper option and started writing… enter her first novel, Caught Looking.
Now you can find the spicy, most definitely on the border of lunacy, kind of crazy lady residing in Colorado with the love of her life and her five, furry four legged children, hiking a trail or hiding behind shelves at grocery stores, wondering what kind of lube the nervous stranger will bring home to his wife. Oh and she loves a good boob squeeze!
Find me on Goodreads: