BLOG TOUR                                     TWISTED TWOSOME by MEGHAN QUINN

We’re celebrating the release of TWISTED TWOSOME by Meghan Quinn!

 

Title: TWISTED TWOSOME

Author: Meghan Quinn

Genre: NA Romantic Comedy

Model: Jeff Kasser

Cover Design: Meghan Quinn

Release Date: 3rd August, 2017

 

 

Synopsis

Racer McKay is a broody bastard.

From the moment I met him, he’s been rude, irritable, and unbearable. 

A contractor working to remodel my parents pool house for extra cash, he stomps around in those clunky construction boots with his tool belt wrapped around his narrow waist, and a chip on his shoulder.

Racer McKay is also infuriatingly . . . sexy as hell. I want to take that pencil tucked behind his ear, and draw lazy lines slowly up and down his body all the while wanting to strangle him at the same time.

We try to stay out of each other’s way . . . that is until I have no other option but to ask for his help.

But what I don’t realize is he needs me just as much as I need him. I have money he’s desperate for, and he holds the key to making my dreams come true.

Our pranks turn from sarcastic banter, to sexual tension and lust-filled glances. Bickering matches quickly morph into slow burn moments. We’re hot, we’re cold. We push and pull. I need him, I don’t want him. We’re on the verge of combusting with an agreement dangling dangerously between us. Neither one of us can afford to lose one another and yet, we’re finding it quite hard to decipher the line that rests between love and hate.

*Twisted Twosome is a stand alone romantic comedy.

Purchase Links:

Amazon: U.S | U.K | CANADA | AUSTRALIA

Excerpt:

**GEORGIANA**

“So, are you ready for tonight?” Madison asks.

The heat of the sun intensifies with the mention of tonight. It’s beating down on me, building up the pressure, circling me in an inferno of what’s to come.

Tonight.

I don’t think I’ve ever been more nervous in my entire life. Even when I was forced to go with Danny Leshay to senior prom because it was part of my father’s business deal with a client. My dad buys out a lumberyard, and in return, I have to go with the guy’s son to prom. Thoughts of being stabbed and murdered on the side of the road by someone I didn’t know terrified me. Thanks, Dad!

“I’m prepared but so freaking nervous.” I turn on my side and face Madison. “I have that sinking feeling he’s going to say no.”

“How can he say no, G? You’ve run through your presentation a million times. I’ve seen it. You are solid with all your numbers, with your projections; it’s an easy yes.”

“To any other businessman, my presentation is an easy yes, but to my dad . . . I have this horrible feeling it’s going to be a hard pass.”

And that’s the honest truth. He’s a good man, but when it comes to me, I’m his little girl, not an aspiring entrepreneur.

“You might be surprised.” Madison takes a big sip from her drink. “He wasn’t happy at first about you going to Northwestern and earning your master’s in business, but he changed his mind about that.”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, because on paper, I’m more appealing to one of the ‘husbands’ my dad has chosen for me. An educated girl is a girl with goals and motivation, one that will be able to participate with knowledgeable commentary in dry, pointless conversations at charitable events. My entire life leading to this point has been a long and drawn-out finishing school run, and operated by my father, preparing me for the very moment I meet the one man I can stand at his side, woo his clients, and be the trophy wife I’ve been morphed into.” I set my drink on the table between us and rest my hands under my cheek. “I want so much more, Madison.”

“If you had red hair and was brushing it with a fork right now, I would think you were the little mermaid.”

“I’m serious.” I laugh just as cursing from a thousand men breaks up our little conversation.

From the side of the pool where renovations for the pool house are taking place, the lone construction worker is holding his finger between his jean-clad legs.

Madison sits up and lifts her sunglasses to get a look at the commotion. “Did you hammer a nail into your finger over there?”

The man who’s been working on the building for a few weekends looks up at us. His head is covered by a backward black baseball cap, his chest is bronze from working many hours outside this summer, and it’s hard not to notice the corded muscles wrapped around his entire body, from his chiseled stomach to his powerful biceps. To be honest, it hasn’t been a chore watching him these last few weekends.

What’s-His-Name looks up and pops his finger in his mouth, sucking on it as his body ripples under the brightness of the sun.

“Damn,” Madison mutters under her breath just as the man pops his finger out of his mouth. “Mama likes.”

Unable to hear Madison slowly discredit his self-respect, he gruffly says, “I’m good.” Not giving us a second thought, he shakes his hand and turns back toward his project.

Never having spoken to the man—I’ve only seen him around—I cautiously say, “You sure? Kind of looks like you’re hurt.”

Slowly he turns his head in my direction, his eyes cutting me a look of indignation. “I’m good, Princess. No need to set your cocktail down to check on me.”

Pardon me? Was that attitude?

I sit up, my legs straddling my lounge chair and tip my sunglasses up so he can see my dissatisfaction in his choice of words. “It’s Georgiana, not princess.”

Picking up his hammer, he shoves it in a holster attached to his side and says, “Could have fooled me.”

“Oooooo,” Madison says as if she’s in grade school. “Burned.” She sits back in her chair, taking a sip of her drink as if she’s preparing for the show of a lifetime, one she might just get.

Slowly, I set my drink down and stand. I adjust the fabric of my swimsuit bottom so it’s covering my ass and saunter over to the man, now sorting nails as he casually glances in my direction.

When I stand in front of him, I watch his eyes travel over my barely covered frame until he meets me head-on. His staggering height doesn’t intimidate me, even though he towers over my petite frame. He appears strong and powerful with a hard set in his jaw.

“What did you say?” I ask, a hand on my hip.

Not giving me his complete attention, he says, “You heard what I said or else you wouldn’t be over here trying to put on a front.”

“Put on a front?” My voice sounds a little shrill from the accusation. “I’m not putting on a front.”

“Yeah?” He pulls a rag from his back pocket, lifts his hat, and wipes his brow. His blond hair sticks up in all different directions with beads of sweat at the tips that aren’t covered by his hat. “So you’re not trying to act intimidating in front of your friend? You know, push around the hired help to make yourself feel better?”

“Excuse me?” Two seconds ago I was irritated, now I’m mad. “How dare you make such an awful accusation about me. You don’t know a thing about me.”

“I know enough,” he answers and turns around to nail another board for the new siding. His incessant hammering has ensured a headache all morning.

“Hey.” I poke his sweaty back, trying to ignore how amazingly tight it feels under my index finger. “I suggest if you want to keep your job you show a little respect.”

Whoa, can we all say it together? Georgiana, you’re a bitch. The words felt dirty leaving my mouth. I really don’t act like this, like my—gulp—parents, but I’m tired, anxious about meeting with my dad, and irritated. It’s a cataclysmic combination and when that happens, nothing good comes from it. I’m about to apologize when he starts to go off on me.

“Respect? You want to talk respect?” He spins on his heel and holds up his hammer. “What do you know about respect, Princess? From where I see it, you know nothing. Every weekend I’ve been here, you’ve ordered people around, watching them wait on you hand and foot, complained about not having any money, gossiped about every bad boob job in town, and have yet to be pleasant to anyone who stands an inch beneath you.” He goes to hammer again but turns around once more and says, “And the heels you just had to wear out to the pool ripped a fucking hole in my nail gun hose, giving me no other option than to nail these boards by hand, adding on time I can’t afford. So, Princess, excuse me for upsetting you, but I’m sticking with the nickname. It fits you to a T. Oh, and just so you know, sandals. Sandals are the proper footwear you should be wearing around the pool.” He rolls his eyes, turns around, and starts hammering another nail into the siding of the pool house.

How dare he!

“That’s what you think I am? Some whiney brat?”

“If the unnecessary high heel fits, Princess.”

Unsure of what to do. I stomp my foot and say, “Well, I’m not.”

Pretty sure my reaction just solidified his assumption.

“Tantrums don’t work on me; try your daddy.” He continues to hammer away, his back muscles shimmering with each movement.

“Maybe I will. We’ll see what he has to say about this little conversation.”

He places another nail against the board and starts hammering. “Wouldn’t be shocked if you did. You step on my hose, ruin my chances of getting this project done today, which only prolongs my time here, cutting down on my chance to make more money since I’m getting paid a flat rate, and now you want to get me fired. Sounds about right. Can’t take the blame for anything.”

No one has ever been so disrespectful to me.

“How was I supposed to know I stepped on your stupid hosey thing?”

“Maybe if you pay attention to people and objects around you, you may have noticed.”

“You’re a jerk, you know that?” He has me all wrong, and it is really bothering me that he pictures me as a spoiled, inconsiderate, self-consumed brat. That’s not who I am at all. 

“How do you figure? Because the way I see it, you’re the jerk.” His body fully turns around to face me, challenge in his eyes, maybe a bit of humor at the corner of his lips as he awaits my answer.

Holding my chin high, I say, “Because, instead of having a hissy fit like a petulant child, you could have come over to me and said, ‘Miss Westbrook, sorry to bother you, but you seem to have poked a hole in my hose.’ But instead you decided to stew over here and then pick on me when I was trying to see if you were okay from your inability to hammer a nail into a piece of wood properly. It’s called being an adult.”

He studies me, hands on his hips, not showing any kind of reaction. “Being an adult, huh? And you think you’re an expert at that?”

“I would say I’m well-versed in the topic.”

He nods, his teeth biting down on his lower lip as his eyes flick to where Madison is sitting. “Well-versed, interesting. Tell me, when did adults start eating dinosaur chicken nuggets for lunch?”

Just when I’m about to reply, Madison calls out, “Nuggies are ready, G. Come eat T-Rex’s arms with me. Roar!”

I shut my eyes tight, willing for this moment to disappear, maybe praying for the ground to swallow me whole due to Madison’s poor timing. The infuriating man says with a smile, “Your nuggies are ready, Princess. Don’t want them getting cold.”

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Reviewed by Anna Green on behalf of KFF

If your eyes are still red and puffy from crying after you finished reading the latest heart-wrenching book, this is the perfect remedy for your book hangover.

A seriously funny story about Racer and Georgiana told in dual points of view. Seldom have I laughed out loud when reading romantic comedies and this one had me at every chapter.

Racer is a blue collar hero/knight-in-shining-armour and a male stripper by mistake (you’ll find out about this one on the first quarter of the book). He works for a construction company together with his close friends, Tucker and Aaron aka Smalls. He was raised by his father singlehandedly and was brought up with the motto: “Make mistakes, tell the worst truth rather than the best lie, love hard, and be the better man.”

Georgiana is the exact opposite of Racer. She was born rich, her dad is in politics and her mom is the typical socialite. Although Georgie comes from a privileged background she actually wants more to life than just shopping and going to parties looking for the perfect husband with matching social status.

The first meeting between this two didn’t go down very well it was more like hate at first sight.   Each one is not impressed with the other but they are forced to work together because both were desperate: she wants validation and he is broke. He thinks she’s a spoiled brat and she thinks he’s rude and bossy.

“Don’t be so stuck-up. I know it’s hard to dislodge the pole that was stuck up your ass when you were born, but with a little lube, we can shimmy it out.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “I don’t mind taking it out for you and replacing it with my good-time pole.”

Racer always tries to get the rise out of Georgiana and she always falls for it but she can also give as good as she gets.

“How about we just don’t make any noise? How does that sound? Hmm?”

“I can’t work in silence. It’s too boring. We could have a conversation, or will that be too difficult for you? Putting sentences together rather than talking like an ass-scratching ape?”

This pair’s snarky banter is hilarious it is verbal foreplay at its best. Their friends are as equally as funny too. What I like about the main characters is that even though they are from different backgrounds they have the same passion for work. Underneath Racer’s crude sense of humour and Georgiana’s high society image both are genuinely good people with kind hearts.

One of the funniest books I’ve read and yet also made me cry (a little bit, mind you). Step aside Christian Grey I’d rather have Racer any time of the day. He’s got no issues, he’s sexy and can dance like a male stripper and good with his hands. Highly recommended!

5 stars!

About the Author:

MeghanQuinnAuthorPicA BLONDE AT HEART

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!

Connect with Meghan: Like me on Facebook | Like me on Instagram | Visit my website | Sign up for my newsletter | Find me on Goodreads

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                                COVER REVEAL                                                         EXES WITH BENEFITS

 

 

Coming September 18th

 

 

 

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He wants a second chance. I want a divorce. To get what I want, I’ll have to give him what he does.

From New York Times & USA Today bestselling author, Nicole Williams, comes a new standalone romance in the same vein as Roommates with Benefits.

 

 

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Nicole Williams is the New York Times and USATODAY bestselling author of contemporary and young adult romance, including the Crash and Lost & Found series. Her books have been published by HarperTeen and Simon & Schuster in both domestic and foreign markets, while she continues to self-publish additional titles. She is working on a new YA series with Crown Books (a division of Random House) as well. She loves romance, from the sweet to the steamy, and writes stories about characters in search of their happily even after. She grew up surrounded by books and plans on writing until the day she dies, even if it’s just for her own personal enjoyment. She still buys paperbacks because she’s all nostalgic like that, but her kindle never goes neglected for too long. When not writing, she spends her time with her husband and daughter, and whatever time’s left over she’s forced to fit too many hobbies into too little time.

Nicole is represented by Jane Dystel, of Dystel and Goderich Literary Agency.

 

 

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                                  BLOG TOUR                 BENEATH THE TRUTH by MEGHAN MARCH

 

From USA Today bestselling author Meghan March comes the final sexy standalone set in the Beneath world of New Orleans.

I used to believe there were lines in life you don’t cross.
Don’t lie. Don’t cheat. Don’t steal.
Until I learned people don’t always practice what they preach.
I turned in my badge and gun and walked away from everything.
Then I got the call no one wants, and I’m back in New Orleans.
What I don’t expect is for her to be here too.
Another line you don’t cross?
Don’t touch your best friend’s little sister.
She’s always been off-limits.
Too bad I don’t follow the rules anymore.

Amazon | iBooks | B&N | Kobo

★ ★ ★ ★

Reviewed by Klaire Sutherland on behalf of KFF

Can most definitely be read as a standalone even though it is book number seven of the Beneath series, the last book. There is a part at the end of the book, the epilogue, which gives the rest of the couples throughout the series, their own little parting gift to the reader, which just might be considered a bit ‘spoily’ in terms of the rest of the series. I thank Meghan for this, perfect way to round up a series. Otherwise, jump right in…Beneath the Truth is a fantastic book to while away the hours with. I’ve always enjoyed Meghan March’s work, out with this series too, I know I’m getting a good when I pick up one of her novels. This is no exception.

Beneath the Truth has a little mix of everything. All the emotions are there – from the heart pumping adrenalin spikes within explosive scenes, to the little barbs of fear you feel when navigating the story. An easy tale to climb on board with and stay the course, it’s far from mediocre storytelling. The author threw in some complex twists that most readers won’t see coming but that’s not to say the story isn’t a dream to follow along.

Rhett Hennessey is no stranger to the Beneath series and this is the perfect homage to the man – the last one. He was always a bit of a mystery and I know many a reader desperately wanted this book. I’ve always liked him when I’ve met him and his background is extremely sore in terms of family and profession. I didn’t see Rhett as the larger than life ‘alpha’ man that perhaps other did. I felt he always kept his wits about him (understandably) and never got too big for his boots. I loved the couple story in this, and I felt it was written with realism. Here we have mousy little Ariel, Heath’s sister, coveting her brother’s best friend from afar. And for a very long time. Except when both return; Ariel isn’t so mousy anymore. Lord, I thought Ari was brilliant. She had an absolute heart of gold which shone so bright. Character development for both were great, albeit I felt they were a little full on a bit quick (this is a personal preference), not so much with the sexual scenes but more so declarations and such things. Together they light up the room, yin to yang. No questions asked. Secondary characters were fantastic and fitted the story well. Meghan March makes you care about her people, she always has. Beneath the Truth is no different.

It hasn’t quite been a five-star read for me. I had one or two niggles, like the brothers popping in and out, the cartel side to the story I felt was a tad underdone and wasn’t up to its full potential. And a silly thing really. This is the end of a series and I wish the author would have left it that way. There is reference to a couple of characters towards the back end of the book which are to be the first of a new series. This is common knowledge but I wasn’t a fan of them being there. I think if you’re going to finish a series – finish it. Period. Start a brand new one. Don’t introduce to me to anyone, let me go all in to a new series with no preconceived ideas please.

Hey – I’d recommend this and the whole series. It’s a joy of a read from start to finish, book one to seven. Don’t miss it!

 

 

EXCERPT:

Wham. My heart slammed against my ribs as it sped up about twenty beats per minute.

The heat and delicious woodsy citrus scent radiating from his body did good things to me. Things that made me want to do very bad things to him. I wasn’t a seventeen-year-old virgin anymore. I knew my way around a man, but I had to admit, the hipsters in Cali had nothing on a homegrown Louisiana man like Rhett.

When he spoke, he leaned in so close that I could feel his breath on my ear. “You missed that shot on purpose.”

My gaze jumped from the sexy five o’clock shadow shading his jaw to his piercing green eyes.

“Wha-what are you talking about?” I smacked myself mentally when my old stammer kicked in. Of course he would cause it.

“That shot. You missed on purpose. I saw you adjust at the last minute. Why?”

I swallowed the saliva pooling in my mouth and decided to take the safest exit from this situation. Lying.

“Cue slipped.”

His eyes narrowed on me. “You’re lying and you’re terrible at it, just like you’ve always been.” He reached up and pressed his thumb to my left eyebrow. “You get a twitch right here.”

Oh my God. Rhett Hennessy is touching me. And what’s more . . . he knows my tell. He noticed me!

The fifteen-year-old inside me did a terrible cartwheel at the realization. Okay, more of a round-off. With a tumble in the grass to finish. Whatever.

But outwardly, I was trapped in that green gaze until he decided to let me go—or until I came to my senses.

I cleared my throat and sidestepped him. “Whatever you say, hotshot. I need another drink.”

Focusing on putting one four-inch heel in front of the other without biting it, I escaped to the table and reached for the whiskey glass I’d left behind, interrupting my brother and the waitress. They both stared at me as I chugged the contents.

I’d always wondered what it would feel like to have Rhett’s attention, and now I knew. In a word, it was . . . unnerving.

“How’s the game going?” my brother asked.

“Fine.” Keeping my answer short meant he couldn’t tell that I was lying. Heath wasn’t nearly as observant as Rhett.

“You winning?”

Thanking the Lord that Heath obviously hadn’t been watching, I shrugged. “I guess.”

He glanced toward Rhett and then back to me. “The sister I know and love doesn’t lose at pool. Ever. Even to Rhett Hennessy.”

I lowered the glass to the table and straightened my shoulders. “Like they say, things change.”

He nodded slowly. “That may be true about most things, Flounder. But you’re a pool shark and we both know it.”

Before I could respond, Heath’s attention jumped back to the waitress. I took another ten seconds to gather myself, also known as drinking offensively in my mind, before I crossed the floor to face off against my former obsession.

“You all right, Red?” Rhett asked.

“Don’t call me that. And I’ve never been better.”

His gaze dipped to my feet and dragged up my body. “I can agree with that statement.”

Whoa. Who is this guy with the innuendo? A glance at his empty whiskey glass told me he was drinking heavily as well. Was this the booze talking? Or was Rhett Hennessy not just noticing me, but noticing me?

Either way, I had to play it cool. Or at least pretend to play it cool, since it seemed I might fall short.

“Your turn, hotshot. Better not miss, because I’ll clear the table next time,” I said, but my cocky attitude backfired.

Rhett didn’t miss. He sank his balls and then the eight, ending the game almost as quickly as it started. He returned his cue to the rack and turned to face me, all traces of the earlier heat banked, his expression shuttered.

“Game over.”

What the hell just happened?

 

 

meghanmarchpic

Meghan March has been known to wear camo face paint and tromp around in woods wearing mud-covered boots, all while sporting a perfect manicure. She’s also impulsive, easily entertained, and absolutely unapologetic about the fact that she loves to read and write smut. Her past lives include slinging auto parts, selling lingerie, making custom jewelry, and practicing corporate law. Writing books about dirty talking alpha males and the strong, sassy women who bring them to their knees is by far the most fabulous job she’s ever had. She loves hearing from her readers at meghanmarchbooks@gmail.com.

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Beneath the Truth by Meghan March (cover photo)