New Release ~ 4.5 Stars for Love Sincerely Yours by Sara Ney & Meghan Quinn!

 

Dear Mister…**strike out** no, too formal.

Hey there sweet cheeks *strike out* no, too forward.

 

To whom it may concern,

Full disclosure; before we move forward with this email, I would like it to be known that I have consumed an adequate amount of alcoholic beverages to intoxicate myself tonight. Three margaritas, two shots, and one beer—because it was free.

I think it’s important to be open and honest with your co-workers, don’t you?

So here I am, being honest. Drunk but honest. Or just drunk with lust? You decide.

I like you so much it’s clouding my judgment and making me do things I never would sober. Like write this letter.

I have a hopeless, foolish, schoolgirl crush on you when you are the last person on earth I should be falling for. Did you know people around the office call you a sadist? An egomaniac. An insensitive, arrogant prick. Your bark is worse then your bite, and you don’t scare me. The fact is, I’d love that bite of yours to nip at my bare skin while we’re both wearing nothing but sheets.

For once I want you to look at me as more than one of your employees.

And as long as we’re being honest, that navy blue suit you wear? With the crisp white shirt? It really makes me want to loosen your tie and show you who’s boss.

Love,

Sincerely,

Yours.

Quesarasera Book Blog Review

4.5 Stars!

Where to start? Gah! This book was so good!

I love a good boss-employee forbidden relationship. Add in the enemies to lovers and I’m sold! Rome and Peyton were pretty close to perfect.

I love this collaboration between Meghan Quinn and Sara Ney. Their writing styles compliment each others nicely. This book is fun, frustrating and romantic.

Rome is a stickler for the rules, because he makes them. He owns a successful company and he lives for work. He is rigid and regimented and his employees find him harsh and unapproachable, but Peyton sees his vulnerability and she wants him and wants him to notice her. So she tells him in an anonymous email.

So, my favorite part of this book was the emails between Rome and Peyton. They were real and open in those letters and it allowed each of them to see the other’s vulnerabilities.

Seriously, a good read! I was sucked in and could not put this book down!

 

 

AVAILABLE NOW

AMAZON | AMAZON UK | AMAZON AU | B&N | iBooks

** KU NOT AVAILABLE WITH THIS RELEASES **

 

Like a goddamn ray of sunshine, light streaming behind her from the window, a halo shining above her pretty head.

Her lying, beautiful head.

Dark hair, wavy and glossy, down around her shoulders, the rich color picking up red from the sun.

She’s holding a glass—it’s poised at her lips and she’s about to take a sip—when our eyes meet. She lowers it, her mouth parts, and her smile spreads.

Until I scowl. Then, her face morphs from happy to concerned in a second. Damn right she should be concerned.

I nod.

She nods.

My eyes trail down the front of her and I note her dress—it’s baby blue, wrapped and tied at the waist, and shows off her curves while highlighting her legs in those sexy-as-shit heels.

Stop thinking about her curves and legs. You’re not here to admire her.

The pile of gifts in the corner pisses me off, bringing me back into the present, back to my rage, and has me lifting my arm; crooking my finger.

Peyton’s brows go up at the same time her head cocks and she pokes a finger into her own chest. “Me?”

“Yeah. You.” I know she can’t hear me, but I say it anyway—and if she’s any good at reading lips, she’ll haul her ass over here right quick.

Her cup is passed. Skirt gets smoothed out. Chin tilts high.

She heads over.

Good girl.

“Follow me,” I order her when we’re on the outskirts of the room. When we’re clear across the office common area, I pivot to face her.

She’s shorter, even in heels, so I have to dip my head to glare at her. “Want to tell me exactly what the fuck is going on in there?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sara Ney is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the How to Date a Douchebag series, and is best known for her sexy, laugh-out-loud New Adult romances. Among her favorite vices, she includes: iced latte’s, historical architecture and well-placed sarcasm. She lives colorfully, collects vintage books, art, loves flea markets, and fancies herself British.

She lives with her husband, children, and her ridiculously large dog.

Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Newsletter | Website

 

 

 

 

 

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!

Facebook | Follow on Goodreads | Website | Amazon Author Page | Instagram | Follow on BookBub

 

Review Blitz ~ 4.5 stars for The Upside of Falling by Meghan Quinn!

 

 

 

Tucked away at the base of the Rocky Mountains lived a little boy with one singular dream: leave this broken and battered home and become someone.

Be somebody’s hero.

That boy was me—Colby Brooks. Except I’m not that same little boy anymore.

My dreams might still be the same, but my reality isn’t.

I’m smarter. Stronger. A man.

And I learned a long damn time ago, the only way to achieve my dreams was to avoid distractions—at any cost.

Focus. Resolve. Determination.

But all it took was one single night. One night and my entire life…changed.

One night had me colliding head first with the biggest distraction of my life; Rory Oaks.

Smart. Charming. Beautiful.

Rory changed everything.

Quickly, my one-track mind started to bend.

Each kiss faded decade-long dreams.

And with one single incident, I fly off course.

 

My Review

4.5 Stars!!

Oh dear Meghan Quinn! How I adore you! But, how could you have kept this beautiful book from us for so long?!

Meghan Quinn is amazing! The Upside of Falling is like nothing she has ever written (in my opinion) and this book completely consumed me from the very start! It was hard-hitting emotion from page one. I felt for Colby. His life wasn’t easy making him rigid and regimented, closed off to feelings and love. Rory swept in like a tornado, full of emotion and need. She didn’t really give Colby a chance to back away. She patiently waited while pushing just enough.

This is a duet, so there is a pretty hefty cliffhanger. Like kind of soul-wrecking, if you ask me. I dropped my ereader and just stared at it like it had burned me, which it sort of did. Well, not the ereader, but my dear Meghan Quinn. I am dying for the next book. I must have my HEA!!

 

 

Head turned down, pushing the sleeves of his white Henley up his arms, he swaggers toward me. His jeans hang low on his hips, held up by the same brown belt he wore the other night. His narrow waist directs my eyes to the center of his jeans, and I can’t help wonder what might be behind the crotch of his pants.

And then there is his chest. Barrel like, broad and prominent. His thick biceps showcase his strength, and the fabric of his shirt stretches over his shoulders and forearms. Having spent a lot of time at the gym, I’ve seen every body type, but Colby’s is different. He’s strong, built, but not like a body builder. His body seems to suggest the only kind of weight he’s been lifting is his own body, pushup after pushup. I can’t imagine there being barbells in his workouts, but I can imagine logs, cadets, and heavy machinery. He has working muscles, the kind you earn from hard, dedicated work on the field. In a word? Impressive.

Walking up to Stryder, he grips his friend’s shoulder and says something into his ear. A smirk crosses Stryder’s face before he moves over to our side of the bowling alley and takes Colby’s place.

Is he leaving? Already?

Might as well at this point. It’s not like he’s going to talk to me, not after my pathetic attempt at a bet. I should have known I was going to hang out in the gutter all night. It’s where I usually am when I’m bowling. I blame the ball. The thing has a vendetta against me.

Sighing, I prop my chin in my hand and watch Stryder expertly toss his ball down the lane, getting a strike . . . once again. And just like every other strike, he pumps his arm up in the air and celebrates. We get it, you’re good, no need to—

“Hey.”

That voice . . .

Stunned, eyes wide, not able to move, not wanting to scare him away, I keep my eyes trained forward, soaking in that beautifully deep voice of his for a brief moment before saying, “Hey.”

“Can I sit here?”

Still keeping my eyes trained forward, I say, “Sure.”

My body tingles with awareness of how close he is to me, that fresh laundry scent invading my senses, prickling the little hairs on my arm. My body leans toward his, wanting a little more, searching for anything else he might give me. I don’t know why he’s choosing to engage me in conversation, but I’m sure as hell not moving while he does.

“Sorry about tonight,” he says and he actually sounds sincere.

“Why are you sorry?” I mumble.

Reaching around, he takes my cheek in his hand. The callouses on his palm rubbing against my skin is a welcome sensation. As I’m turned toward him, I steady my breathing. I’m having a hard time slowing my heart rate because of his close proximity, and the unexpected touch shooting a wave of heat through my veins.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to ask me any questions. I didn’t think you were going to suck that bad.” A playful smile tugs at his lips, and my heart sinks to the floor. Oh God, he’s so gorgeous, especially when he smiles.

Matching his smirk, I say, “I didn’t think I was going to suck that bad either.”

“I feel bad.”

“You should.” That garners a laugh, deep and throaty, the sound cloaking me like a shield, protecting me from the outside world, bringing me into a little bubble where we are the only two that exist.

“Ask me a question.”

Shocked, I swallow hard and say, “Really?”

He nods and holds up his fingers. “You get three.”

“Oh, three? Wow, I feel like you just gave me the key to your soul.”

Rolling his eyes, he adjusts his stance on the barstool and leans back, giving us some space, our knees still knocking into each other. “Easy killer; it’s just three questions.”

“Yeah, three questions I didn’t have before.” Tapping my chin, I try to think of good questions, but now that I have him willing and waiting, nothing comes to mind. I wasn’t prepared for this, he caught me off-guard, and now I feel I can’t be strategic about my probing. “Hmm . . . what do you like to do on the weekends?”

“Jump,” he answers.

Searching his eyes, lips quirked, I say, “Uh, you’re going to have to be more specific than that. What kind of jumping are we talking here? Like jump roping? Because that seems kind of weird to do on the weekends, and if you tell me you’re in some kind of jump-roping club at the academy, I’m not going to believe you.”

His lips curve up as he scratches the side of his jaw. “Jump out of airplanes.”

Oh.

Oh.

That’s . . .

Uh, that’s really hot.

“So you just casually jump out of airplanes?”

“I’m part of the Wings of Blue, the academy’s parachute team. We jump every day, at least two to three times a day after class and before dinner, depending on wind and ceiling limits. On the weekends, some of the guys, including Stryder and me, go to Springs East Airport and do civilian jumps. The more jumps we get in, the higher the chance we’ll be considered for big demonstrations, like parachuting into football games and major sporting events for the Rockies and Broncos.” Ummmm. Did anyone else just hear how many words he gifted me? And seriously? Does the man have no clue how incredibly sexy he is when he talks about something he loves? The expression on his face . . .

“Wow, that’s . . . that’s really hot.” I chuckle. “Sorry, I don’t mean to fangirl over your parachuting, but I guess I wasn’t expecting that answer. You just jump out of planes?”

He slowly nods. “Every day.”

“Anything to get you up in the clouds, huh?”

“Yeah,” he answers shyly, rubbing his jaw. “Okay, next question.”

 

 

 

 

 

THE DOWNSIDE OF LOVE – July 5th

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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!

Facebook | Follow on Goodreads | Website | Amazon Author Page | Instagram | Follow on BookBub

 

 

New Release ~ The Upside of Falling by Meghan Quinn!

 

 

 

Tucked away at the base of the Rocky Mountains lived a little boy with one singular dream: leave this broken and battered home and become someone.

Be somebody’s hero.

That boy was me—Colby Brooks. Except I’m not that same little boy anymore.

My dreams might still be the same, but my reality isn’t.

I’m smarter. Stronger. A man.

And I learned a long damn time ago, the only way to achieve my dreams was to avoid distractions—at any cost.

Focus. Resolve. Determination.

But all it took was one single night. One night and my entire life…changed.

One night had me colliding head first with the biggest distraction of my life; Rory Oaks.

Smart. Charming. Beautiful.

Rory changed everything.

Quickly, my one-track mind started to bend.

Each kiss faded decade-long dreams.

And with one single incident, I fly off course.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE DOWNSIDE OF LOVE – July 5th

This isn’t a story about a love triangle. There is no triangle involved.

This isn’t a story about an accidental pregnancy. Although having a baby with her . . . I would.

This isn’t a story about lies and deception, even though at times I’ve lied to myself.

No, this is my story.

A story about sacrifice.

A story about a man who fell in love with the wrong girl.

A story I wish I never had to tell.

This is a story about the true meaning of the downside of love.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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!

Facebook | Follow on Goodreads | Website | Amazon Author Page | Instagram | Follow on BookBub

 

 

Blog Tour ~ 4.5 Stars for One Baby Daddy by Meghan Quinn!

 

 

 

 

“What are you doing now that your team is out of the running for the Stanley Cup?”

Forget.

I need to forget. I need an escape.

Only one person isn’t falling for my reputation as the NHL’s Golden Boy; she captured my attention the minute she called me out for snooping through my best friend’s house. She didn’t want to hear my reason–she only wanted to playfully give me a hard time.

Adalyn is bold, sassy–and the perfect escape.

She’s everywhere. In town and in my dreams, and suddenly I need to spend every waking moment with her.

And I do, making this summer the best off-season I’ve ever had.

But in the midst of getting lost in Adalyn, what I don’t expect is to get her pregnant.

And what I definitely don’t expect is having to fight for her affection.

 

 

My Review

4.5 Stars!

Hayden Holmes is my all-time favorite Meghan Quinn hero! He stole my heart from the very first page. Seriously, hee is going to make you swoon!

You know how the story goes… boy meets girl, girl is declared off limits by girl’s male BFF, who also happens to be the boys life-long friend. Boy and Girl ignore the off-limits warning and spend a romantic, sexy, fun summer. Uh oh. Girl gets pregnant and then keeps it from Boy despite him being nearly perfect. Boy finds out he’s going to be a father and Girl pushes him away. Boy just fights harder.

I loved this book! Meghan Quinn blew me away with Hayden. The story itself was great–emotional, funny, a little sad at times, sexy and most of all romantic. I loved reading Adalyn and Hayden finding their way to the HEA!

Meghan Quinn outdid herself with this one!

 

 

“Would you mind zipping up the back of my dress?” She walks toward me, her flowery scent floating in my direction, spiking my yearning into overdrive.

“Uh, yeah . . . sure.”

She turns around, and looks over her shoulder. The back of her dress is completely open, the zipper undone to just above the curve of her beautifully round ass.

Shit, all that smooth, tan skin, covered by nothing but the velvety fabric of the dress. Is she wearing underwear? She’s not wearing a bra and I see no panty line.

Clearing my throat, I ask, “Are you wearing underwear, Adalyn?”

From over her shoulder, she smiles shyly. “Yes, it’s small though.”

Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be?

Not being able to stop myself, I take a second to float my fingertips up her spine. From the initial touch, her back arches and a small gasp releases from her lips, but before I can think about stopping, she melts into my touch. Stepping closer, I place my hand on the back of her hip, my thumb pressing into her ass while the other hand explores the bare expanse of her back. Her head falls to my shoulder. Her lips part, and when I snake to the front of her dress, her breath hitches.

Eyes closed, I take in ragged breaths, my fingers inching closer and closer to her front, my cock painfully hard.

It’s been so goddamn long—and being with Adalyn has only spurred on my need—but I want to make sure we’re in a good place before we commit to anything. I want to make sure she’s ready emotionally because the minute I bury myself deep inside her, I know there will be no turning back. She will be mine forever.

But maybe for now, I can just have a little touch . . .

My cock pressed against her butt, she expertly grinds her backside into me, her hands moving to my neck, pulling my head down to hers. I kiss the side of her neck, using the hand that’s gripping her hips to guide her with her grinding in just the right place.

Fuck, that feels good.

I grunt, the sound vibrating over her sleek neck. My hand on her stomach, she arches wanting more of my touch, silently asking me to move north.

And I fucking comply. Inch by slow inch, I guide my hand to just below her breasts. When I halt my pursuit, a displeased groan escapes her.

“Hayden, please.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to find the willpower. Her fingernails dig into my scalp, spurring me on as she turns her head and finds my lips.

She kisses me.

Hot.

Wet.

Needy.

Her lips gliding across mine, her tongue diving into my mouth, her moans are vocal and sexy. Her delicious ass, pressing, grinding, undulating against my rock-hard cock makes me want to do so much more, makes me want to taste so much more.

Moving my hand higher, my fingertips graze the bottom of her breast. Soft. Round. Smooth. I caress her right below her nipple, never touching, just teasing . . . tempting.

 

 

 

 

 

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!

Facebook | Follow on Goodreads | Website | Amazon Author Page | Instagram | Follow on BookBub | Newsletter

 

New Release ~ One Baby Daddy by Meghan Quinn!

 

 

 

 

“What are you doing now that your team is out of the running for the Stanley Cup?”

Forget.

I need to forget. I need an escape.

Only one person isn’t falling for my reputation as the NHL’s Golden Boy; she captured my attention the minute she called me out for snooping through my best friend’s house. She didn’t want to hear my reason–she only wanted to playfully give me a hard time.

Adalyn is bold, sassy–and the perfect escape.

She’s everywhere. In town and in my dreams, and suddenly I need to spend every waking moment with her.

And I do, making this summer the best off-season I’ve ever had.

But in the midst of getting lost in Adalyn, what I don’t expect is to get her pregnant.

And what I definitely don’t expect is having to fight for her affection.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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!

Facebook | Follow on Goodreads | Website | Amazon Author Page | Instagram | Follow on BookBub | Newsletter

 

Read an excerpt from One Baby Daddy by Meghan Quinn!

 

 

 

 

“What are you doing now that your team is out of the running for the Stanley Cup?”

Forget.

I need to forget. I need an escape.

Only one person isn’t falling for my reputation as the NHL’s Golden Boy; she captured my attention the minute she called me out for snooping through my best friend’s house. She didn’t want to hear my reason–she only wanted to playfully give me a hard time.

Adalyn is bold, sassy–and the perfect escape.

She’s everywhere. In town and in my dreams, and suddenly I need to spend every waking moment with her.

And I do, making this summer the best off-season I’ve ever had.

But in the midst of getting lost in Adalyn, what I don’t expect is to get her pregnant.

And what I definitely don’t expect is having to fight for her affection.

 

 

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Tentative at first, we explore, our lips light, our mouths not quite nipping, but not fusing together either.

We probe, we search, we delve into each other.

Her hands to my face.

My fingers tangling in her wavy brown curls.

Mouths open.

A gasp.

A moan.

A tightened grip.

The lightest touch of tongues.

Scooting closer, she wraps her legs around the back of mine, linking them together.

Tangling, molding, becoming one, the sweet taste of her mouth on mine . . . I’m lost.

Falling and falling fast, our kiss so deep, so intense with each thrust of our tongues, with each mingling of our lips, with every intake of desperate breath.

Tender, the way she moves her lips across mine.

Shaky, the way her hands tentatively explore the crevasses and divots of my broad and built chest.

Fearful . . . of the unknown, of what this means.

But so goddamn electrifying because the craving I’ve harbored for this woman is finally being sated.

Eyes closed, hands lingering, I slowly pull away and rest my forehead on Adalyn’s trying to catch my breath, taking a second to steady the jittery, wobbly feeling in my legs.

“Wow,” I mumble. “That was—”

“Unforgettable,” she finishes for me, her nose rubbing against mine.

Exhaling, I say, “Yeah, it was.”

My hands venture to her sides, memorizing every contour of her body in their path. “Where’s your bedroom?”

Her eyes light up and she hops down from the counter, taking my hand in hers in the process. “This way.” She practically skips down the hallway, light and giddy.

The dark hallway leads to another white, clean, and crisp bedroom. Smooth lines, monotone colors of whites and creams, with one light blue throw pillow on her plush white bed that looks like a cloud floating in the middle of heaven.

Angling in my direction, she reaches for the hem of her dress, but I stop her, gripping her shoulders and standing her upright. Confusion laces her eyes and I take no time in easing that confusion.

“I want to take this slow, Adalyn.” I let out an unsteady breath. “That kiss back there, fuck . . .” I press a hand through my hair. “That rocked my goddamn world.”

Shyly, she peeks up at me through her eyelashes. “It rocked my world too.”

Unable to keep my hands off her for too long, I tip her chin up and press my lips against hers, my mouth smoothing along hers, lush and delicious, just as I expected. She sighs into me, holding on to my waist. I press my tongue against hers again, loving how she gives as much as I take.

Slowing down, my lips brush hers, the fiery passion we have for each other simmering like a pot ready to boil, but never getting hot enough.

I don’t want it to get too hot. Not right now.

I need to know more about her. I want more time with her. I don’t want to jump into this—into a physical relationship—when I know there is so much more I can share with this woman.

There is time for this connection to go beyond the physical, but for now, I need to not get wrapped up in the sensation of her being so close to me and rather seduce her mind instead. I. Want. Her. I want what Calder and Rachel have. I want the depth of trust and friendship I’ve seen in my parents’ marriage . . . How is that possible so soon? God, I want inside her, but I think I need inside her heart more than in her body.

Yes, I’m certifiable.

Completely.

“Can we agree on something?”

“Depends on what it is.” Her fingers trace up and down my spine.

Tracing her pattern, matching it with my fingers, I say, “Can we both acknowledge this unimaginable pull between us? Can we admit to ourselves that the physical is there, that we both would have no problem taking this relationship to the bed?”

“Easily,” she breathes out heavily, her fingers playing with the hem of my shirt.

“Can we also agree to wait?”

Sighing heavily, she rests her head against my chest, knocking it a few times with her forehead. “You’re killing me, Hayden.”

“I know but there have been too many times where the physical has taken the lead in developing a relationship and the communication has lacked. I don’t want that with you.”

“I can understand that.” She bites her bottom lip, her thoughts running a mile a minute in that pretty head of hers. “But what about . . . you know . . . when you have to leave, go back to Philly?”

I nod. “This is for then. So when I do go back, we’ll be okay. Because I can see a future with you, Adalyn, and that’s why I want to build something solid with you, something that can last. I want that chance. With you.”

“So when you return to Philly, you want to stay in contact with me?”

“Fuck yes, I do. And I’m going to have you sitting front and center at as many games as you can get to, especially since I’m trying to make hockey your favorite sport.”

“I don’t know.” She smiles. “That’s going to be one hell of a task to accomplish. Think you can handle it?”

“I know I can.” I press a quick kiss against her lips and then slap her ass, making her squeal. With a wink, I say, “Go get changed for bed, we have some making out to do.”

“Making out?” she asks, adding in a lift of that well-defined eyebrow of hers.

Acting stern and pointing my finger at her, I say, “Just making out. If you start with your wandering hands, I’m going to jet out of here, taking my body warmth with me.”

“That’s just cruel.”

“Then keep it in your pants, Adalyn.” Smiling wickedly, I go to the living room to grab my overnight bag, reprimanding myself with the same warning.

Keep it in your pants, Holmes.

For the love of God, keep it in your pants.

 

 

 

 

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!

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Cover Reveal ~ One Baby Daddy by Meghan Quinn!

 

 

 

“What are you doing now that your team is out of the running for the Stanley Cup?”

Forget.

I need to forget. I need an escape.

Only one person isn’t falling for my reputation as the NHL’s Golden Boy; she captured my attention the minute she called me out for snooping through my best friend’s house. She didn’t want to hear my reason–she only wanted to playfully give me a hard time.

Adalyn is bold, sassy–and the perfect escape.

She’s everywhere. In town and in my dreams, and suddenly I need to spend every waking moment with her.

And I do, making this summer the best off-season I’ve ever had.

But in the midst of getting lost in Adalyn, what I don’t expect is to get her pregnant.

And what I definitely don’t expect is having to fight for her affection.

 

 

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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!

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New Release ~ 4 Stars for Back In The Game by Meghan Quinn!

 

 

 

Single dad and hockey star, Calder Weiss has put his love life on the back burner for the past five years, raising his daughter and keeping up with the demands of his profession.

But all that changes the minute Rachel Perry runs into him in the most unlikely of places, right outside the men’s bathroom. Vibrant and enchanting, she captures his attention, making it impossible for him to walk away without scoring her number.

Their connection is immediate, their attraction palpable, and their relationship undeniable. But Rachel isn’t the only girl in Calder’s life which scares him, because Calder’s daughter already lost her mother. He doesn’t want Shea to lose someone close to her again, making Rachel’s task of breaking through Calder’s wall that much more difficult.

 

 

My Review

4 star!

Originally part of the Team Player Anthology, Back In The Game is getting it’s solo release and you get to meet Calder and his sweet, funny daughter.

Calder is a hockey players, single dad who meets teacher, Rachel, when they have an awkward but funny encounter in a restaurant. There is immediate attraction which leads to a date which leads to this hilariously fun story!

Back In The Game is part sports romance and all rom com! A fun read!

 

 

 

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!

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Blog Tour ~ 4.5 Stars for Two Wedding Crashers by Meghan Quinn!

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AMAZON US | AMAZON UK | AMAZON CA  | AMAZON AU

I don’t know what love is anymore.

Well, that’s not entirely true, but I’m going to tell you a little secret: I’ve lost the spark.

You know the kind of spark I’m talking about?

Where butterflies take flight in your stomach from two hands innocently colliding. Or catching your breath when you first meet someone attractive. Yeah, that spark.

Except I haven’t felt that feeling in forever; there is nothing left inside of me.

Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem–but I’m a writer on a serious deadline, and my editor is breathing down my neck for a romantic, Nicholas Sparks type love story. No pressure, right?

That’s how I find myself flying across the country to crash a wedding in the name of research, dress and heels stuffed into my small suitcase.

It should be the easiest book research ever. Drinking some free champagne, basking in the love of two strangers, and tapping into my romantic side. That will be a breeze. I’m a pro. I can handle this.

Until I mistakenly end up in the wrong hotel room, naked as the day I was born, with the sexiest human I have ever met staring me down, wondering what I’m doing taking a shower in his bathroom. I don’t think calling it research will get me out of this pickle.

MY REVIEW

4.5 Stars!

You know, Meghan Quinn is a favorite of mine. I actually discovered her books on accident a few years ago when I won a giveaway. She sent me a signed copy of Repentance and the signature on the inside said “Love and Boobs, Meghan Quinn.” I remember laughing and thinking, “This chick just gets me.” I read Repentance in one sitting and, BOOM, I was addicted. Over the last two years, I have read nearly all of her books. I was right. She just gets me and we don’t even know each other. lol!

Anywho, fun story over.

Two Wedding Crashers… this one is up there in my top three favorite Meghan Quinn books (I’m not sure anything will top Dear Life for me.). I found TWC to be a refreshing change. Our heroine is in a rut, has lost her spark, has drifted from her center. She’s empty. She goes on this kind of crazy trip to find her mojo and she finds said mojo and more… a hot, hunky more. Hello, Spark. Nice to see you again! Spark has a name and it is Beck. Remember Beck? From Three Blind Dates? No? WTH? Put that one on your TBR, too. I liked Beck in Three Blind Dates. I LOVE Beck in TWC. Seriously, he is sexy, sweet, kind, spontaneous… pretty close to perfect. Beck and Rylee’s story is sizzling hot and full of feels, the good tingly kind.

Dear Meghan Quinn, thank you! Thank you for this book!

EXCERPT

Chills scream their way down my arms and legs, my nipples pucker, and just like that, with one word, all humor vanishes from our little conversation and awareness of this all-consuming man wrapped around me hits me hard.

Gathering myself, I say, “Tell me something Chris and Justine know about you.”

“Hmm.” His thumbs hook under the waistband of my shorts, playing with the lower part of my hipbones. His touch spurs on my pelvis, needing to rock, begging for him to go lower. My toes curl in my sandals and my back slightly arches, reaching for more. “Something they know about me.”

His mouth doesn’t stray from its position against my ear, and his hips start to slowly move underneath me, his legs tangling with mine. Involuntarily, one of my hands hooks the back of his neck as I hold on tightly to him, feeling like I need support from the onslaught of sensation I’m feeling.

I hear him say something, but it doesn’t register in my brain, which has turned to mush as his thumbs stray from my hipbones to right above my pubic bone.

There is no denying how turned on I am, how wet I am from his mere touch, how much—despite my reservations—I want this man.

With each stroke, my head turns farther and farther to the side until our noses are touching, Beck’s head bends forward to meet me halfway. My eyes flutter shut for a brief moment before I open them and am captured by those flecks of green and gold.

The air stills around us, our breath mixing, swirling between us, our lips so close.

One swipe of this thumb.

Another one.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t focus.

Another swipe, my head leans even closer, my tongue wetting my lips.

One more swipe . . .

My heart hammers in my chest, my skin prickling with awareness.

Beck brings his mouth even closer, only a whisper away now, and he waits.

Holding still.

His breathing feeling erratic beneath me.

One.

More.

Swipe.

And I’m gone.

I bring my mouth to his, slowly parting my lips ever so slightly, just enough to maneuver my mouth across his.

A low, provocative moan escapes Beck as one of his hands snags the back of my head and holds me in place, almost as if he lets go, I’ll disappear.

Needing more, I shift on his lap so I’m straddling him once again, my hands on his bare chest, feeling the powerful sinew that holds him together.

Our lips press and mold, mingling, taking, begging . . .

Desperate.

Beck’s tongue runs against my bottom lip, eliciting a moan from deep within me, lighting a fire so hot, so wild, my hands start to travel up his neck to his cheeks where I grip him, positioning his head so when I open my mouth, I can expertly dive my tongue onto his.

He groans, his lap shifting against mine now, his hard-on pressing against my wet and throbbing center. I match his rocking, using my position on his lap to take advantage of his length I can feel through his board shorts.

This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen, but God, am I happy it has. Maybe I really should live in the moment, maybe I should take advantage of the opportunity, maybe I should…

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!

Facebook | Follow on Goodreads | Website | Amazon Author Page | Instagram | Follow on BookBub

New Release ~ Two Wedding Crashers by Meghan Quinn!

 

 

 

BUY NOW

AMAZON US | AMAZON UK | AMAZON CA | AMAZON AU

 

 

I don’t know what love is anymore.

Well, that’s not entirely true, but I’m going to tell you a little secret: I’ve lost the spark.

You know the kind of spark I’m talking about?

Where butterflies take flight in your stomach from two hands innocently colliding. Or catching your breath when you first meet someone attractive. Yeah, that spark.

Except I haven’t felt that feeling in forever; there is nothing left inside of me.

Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem–but I’m a writer on a serious deadline, and my editor is breathing down my neck for a romantic, Nicholas Sparks type love story. No pressure, right?

That’s how I find myself flying across the country to crash a wedding in the name of research, dress and heels stuffed into my small suitcase.

It should be the easiest book research ever. Drinking some free champagne, basking in the love of two strangers, and tapping into my romantic side. That will be a breeze. I’m a pro. I can handle this.

Until I mistakenly end up in the wrong hotel room, naked as the day I was born, with the sexiest human I have ever met staring me down, wondering what I’m doing taking a shower in his bathroom. I don’t think calling it research will get me out of this pickle.

 

 

 

“What brings you to Key West, Beck?”

I feel like that’s a question I should have asked a while ago but with the whole naked hotel room exposure—which I have yet to tell my friends about—and the sweatshirt burial, we haven’t had a real chance to get to know each other. Not that I’m complaining all too much. What I know about Beck so far is that he’s a gentleman and likes to have a good time, even if that means torching a sweatshirt and sending it on it’s way.

There aren’t many people I know who would stand there, hand over heart, talking about the thread count of a sweatshirt while fake crying.

The corner of my lips pull up just from the image of Beck wiping “tears” from his eyes with the back of his index finger.

“Do you want the truth, or do you want a fabricated lie that will cause you to fall madly in love with me?”

Chuckling, I answer, “Both.”

“Fair enough.” Beck pushes his foot against the sand below us, sending the hammock into a relaxing swing. “Want the truth or the lie first?”

“Hmm, how about I guess which is which.”

“Ah, things are about to get exciting.” He chuckles and rubs his hands together. “Okay, reason number one.” He clears his throat. “I’m attending a wedding this coming weekend, a wedding I wasn’t invited to, but my friend begged me to attend because he wanted to bone his wife without children around. It doesn’t make sense, but hey, I’m a good friend so here I am.”

Errr, that’s eerily familiar. I swallow a little harder than expected. There is no way he’s crashing a wedding like me. That’s only something a desperate author does in order to find signs of love again. “Okay, reason number two.”

“My sister is getting married this weekend and I’m giving her away. Our dad passed away a few years ago from a heart attack, and even though we’d been estranged for two years, she asked if I would be a part of her wedding. So here I am.”

Silently he swings us, my mind whirling with what the truth could be. Both stories were told so effortlessly, so he’s either a really good liar, or some kind of con artist. I should be scared. I should go to my hotel room right now, wishing Beck a good night, but I don’t, because I’m intrigued by this man. Behind the good looks and intelligence, there’s something beneath the surface, something dark that makes understandable the age in his weathered eyes.

Because of that, I go with option number two. It seems the most plausible, because who really crashes weddings? Only crazed women with the tendency to sit in a bush with a notepad and pen and take notes while staring at couples and listening in on their conversations.

Research and all, it comes at a high price, like spikey branches to the tush.

“Hmm, I’m going to go with reason number two.”

He nods and says, “I knew you were going to say that, but you’re pretty little self is wrong. I don’t even have a sister.”

Stunned, I prop myself up as best as I can on the loose woven thread of the hammock and stare him down. “You’re here to crash someone’s wedding?”

He winces. “Uh, yeah, kind of.”

“Unbelievable.” I shake my head in disbelief and lie back down.

“Now before you judge me and give me a lecture about RSVPing—”

“I’m not judging you.” I turn toward Beck, the hammock making the shift slightly difficult. “I’m just a little . . . surprised.”

“I don’t plan on eating any food.” He bites his bottom lip. “That’s a lie. I plan on eating a lot, but hey, I’ll bring the party to the dance floor. If anything, I’m bringing them the gift of dance, so you can’t be mad at me for that.”

“I’m not mad.” I laugh, still surprised. “I’m just trying to comprehend this.” Looking him square in the eyes, I say, “I’m here crashing a wedding as well.”

This causes Beck to sit up, his brawny chest straining the fabric of his shirt. He intently studies me, his eyes flitting back and forth until he finally asks, “You’re serious? You’re really crashing a wedding?”

I press my lips together and nod.

A sharp laugh escapes Beck as he lies down on the hammock and sends our swing into more of a frenzied movement. “I’m just going to assume, given our luck of baby puke, naked encounters—”

“I knew you saw boobs.”

“I didn’t see . . . ah hell, what’s the point? I totally saw your tits and fuck, woman, they’re hot.” I blush . . . horrendously, my face heating up along with every vein in my body. “But like I was saying, with our luck, we’re going to the same wedding.”

Clearing my throat, trying to move past the part where Beck just made my nipples harden and pop out like turkey thermometers, I lamely say, “Yeah, that would be our luck.”

“Let me guess, wedding is on Saturday at The Hemingway House.”

Cue another rush of heat to eclipse my body. “The one and only.”

He nods and lies there silently for a second before saying, “So what you’re telling me is that I have a date for the wedding Saturday night.”

Not expecting him to say that, I laugh out loud and for some reason say, “I’m wearing teal, in case you want to match and take couple pictures. You know, might as well do the whole couple thing up, right?”

This garners, a deep, low, rumble of a laugh from Beck. “Thank God I packed grey pants with a white button-down. There won’t be any kind of clashing in those couple photos.”

“Nope, not even in the slightest.”

 

 

 

 

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!

Facebook | Follow on Goodreads | Website | Amazon Author Page | Instagram | Follow on BookBub