Man Hands, a New Romantic Comedy by Sarina Bowen and Tanya Eby – Book Review

About Man Hands

BRYNN

At thirty-four, I’m reeling from a divorce. I don’t want to party or try to move on. I just want to stay home and post a new recipe on my blog: Brynn’s Dips and Balls.

But my friends aren’t having it. Get out there again, they say. It will be fun, they say. I’m still taking a hard pass.

Free designer cocktails, they say. And that’s a game-changer.

Too bad my ex shows up with his new arm candy. That’s when I lose my mind. But when my besties dare me to leap on the first single man I see, they don’t expect me to actually go through with it.

TOM

All I need right now is some peace and quiet while my home renovation TV show is on hiatus. But when a curvy woman in a red wrap dress charges me like she’s a gymnast about to mount my high bar, all I can do is brace myself and catch her. What follows is the hottest experience of my adult life.

I want a repeat, but my flying Cinderella disappears immediately afterward. She doesn’t leave a glass slipper, either—just a pair of panties with chocolate bunnies printed on them.

But I will find her.

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Man Hands (Man Hands, #1)Man Hands by Sarina Bowen
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Sarina Bowen is one of my favorite authors – authors whose books I pre-order as soon as the links go up. While I prefer her deeper, more emotional romantic novels to this light-hearted romantic comedy, it would be unfair to compare Man Hands to HIM/US, or to her True North series, because of the change in genre. It’s supposed to be a simpler story, with less complex characters, and it is. Overall, Man Hands is satisfying and thoroughly entertaining–the perfect diversion if you’re looking for a light, uncomplicated read that just makes you feel good all over. The premise is not necessarily unique (“home improvement” themes are cropping up all over the place right now), but it’s immediately engaging. The inciting event, when the two principal characters met, is outrageous and hilarious; the dialogue is clever and funny; the principal characters are unique and relatable: a handyman (albeit a famous one), and an English professor, a cookbook writer, and a food blogger. The secondary characters are delightfully quirky and developed enough to stand on their own as this new series continues.

I love that Brynn is not a drop-dead-gorgeous, super-slender damsel in distress. Based on her description, she’s more of a BBW, struggling with the same body image and self-esteem issues many women feel when they re-enter the dating world after a divorce. I love that she happens to be just what Tom–who is still stinging from the callous rejection of his would-be fiancée–sees her for the creative, exuberant woman that she is and falls in love with her because of it. I also love that Brynn is willing to give Tom the benefit of the doubt when other heroines would be whining in their fancy cocktails. I love that they are both willing to risk their hearts while they figure out what their relationship truly is and what it means.

I look forward to seeing Brynn and Tom again in the sequel, Man Card. I thoroughly enjoyed taking a break from the holiday rush to dive into this sweet rom-com, and I recommend it without reservations.

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Man Card – a New RomCom by Sarina Bowen and Tanya Eby

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About Man Card

Nothing ventured, nothing banged…

Front Cover of Man Card by Sarina Bowen

Ash

I still don’t know how it happened. One minute I was arguing with my arrogant competitor–our usual trash-talk over who deserves the larger commission. But somehow I went from throwing down to kneeling down…
It can never happen again. I don’t even like Braht. He’s too slick. He’s a manipulating mansplaining party boy in preppy clothes.
So why can’t I get him out of my head?

Braht

There are two things I know without question. One: Ash and I are destined for each other. Two: never trust a man with a unibrow.
Ash is my missing my piece. She’s the sweet cream to my gourmet espresso. And nothing gets me going faster than her contempt for me. They don’t call her the Ashkicker for nothing.
Eventually I’ll win her over…if my past doesn’t ruin everything first.

About the Authors

Sarina Bowen is a USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance and New Adult fiction from the wilds of New England. Sarina enjoys skiing, coffee products and a nice glass of wine. She lives with her family, six chickens and more ski gear and hockey equipment than seems necessary.

Her Ivy Years and Brooklyn Bruisers books are hockey romance novels. These two connected series began breaking hearts in 2014 with The Year We Fell Down. Her book HIM co-written with Elle Kennedy won the Romance Writers of America’s RITA® Award.

Tanya Eby is the author of “Foodies Rush In”, “Easy Does It”, “Blunder Woman”, “Pepper Wellington and the Case of the Missing Sausage”, “Tunnel Vision and Other Stories from the Edge”, “Synchronicity”, and “In The Garden Room”; as well as the editor and publisher of “Nevertheless We Persisted”. Her new romantic comedy series is written with Sarina Bowen: MAN HANDS and MAN CARD.

Tanya was born in Lansing, Michigan, moved to Traverse City, went to high school in Coopersville and spent time living in Detroit, Miami and eventually New York City. Michigan is now her home (and setting for all of her novels) and where she lives with her two children. Her work, though genre-crossing, has the same elements of quirky characters in strange situations. At times comedic, at times heartfelt, and even at times downright creepy, Tanya Eby seeks to write stories that are engaging and resonate with the reader.

Hooking Up, by Helena Hunting – A Perfect Weekend Read

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Synopsis

Amalie Whitfield is the picture of a blushing bride during her wedding reception–but for all the wrong reasons. Instead of proclaiming his undying love, her husband can be heard, by Amalie and their guests, getting off with someone else. She has every reason to freak out, and in a moment of insanity, she throws herself at the first hot-blooded male she sees. But he’s not interested in becoming her revenge screw.

Mortified and desperate to escape the post-wedding drama, Amalie decides to go on her honeymoon alone, only to find the man who rejected her also heading to the same tiny island for work. But this time he isn’t holding back. She should know better than to sleep with someone she knows, but she can’t seem to resist him.

They might agree that what happens on the island should stay on the island, but neither one can deny that their attraction is more than just physical.

Filled with hilariously scandalous situations and enough sexual chemistry to power an airplane from New York City to the South Pacific, Hooking Up is the next standalone, laugh-out-loud romantic comedy from Helena Hunting, the New York Times bestselling author of the Pucked series and Shacking Up.

My Review of Hooking Up

Hooking Up by Helena Hunting

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Front cover, Hooking Up, by Helena HuntingHooking Up is the very definition of a guilty pleasure. It’s the best kind of dirty fun you can have with your clothes on. The erotic scenes between Amalie and her mystery man will electrify your e-reader; I swear my iPad Kindle app started sizzling from the moment Amalie and Mr. X connected in the proverbial biblical sense.

This standalone sequel to Shacking Up continues the story of Amalie and Armstrong – a match truly made in hell – with an outrageous beginning that turns Amalie’s comfortable world upside down. If you hated Armstrong in Shacking Up, you will wish for his untimely demise by the time Hooking Up is over.

The scenes that follow the “unfortunate event” at their wedding are over-the-top, completely crazy, and utterly hilarious. But the rest of Hooking Up offers more than you might expect. The back story of each character, the soulmate-worthy connection that builds between Amalie and her “Hottie Hookup” is deeply erotic, but also deeply emotional. Helena strikes just the right balance between comedy and drama as the story continues, and for that reason, I think it surpasses Shacking Up as a new favorite – a book I’ll definitely re-read.

There is a lot of sex and a lot of dirty-talk between the beginning and the end – so if that makes you uncomfortable, this may not be the book for you. But for me, it made perfect sense and didn’t detract from the story. The erotic scenes are truly some of the best I’ve ever read, not only from Helena Hunting, but from other contemporary romance authors as well. They bring the heat – but they also bring deep passion, longing, belonging, and empowerment that leads to a satisfying sense of intimacy – the very thing that both primary characters are missing in their lives. I got so attached, so quickly, I read Hooking Up in one sitting.

If you want a perfect read for a chilly fall weekend, with a balance of outrageous humor and angst, with two unforgettable characters, grab your favorite beverage and indulge in this dirty, sexy treat today.

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Check Out Shacking Up!

For a synopsis and my review, Click here!

Shacking Up, a Sensational New Romance by Bestselling Author Helena Hunting

So Good: A Sexy, Funny Romance by Nicola Rendell – Blog Tour

 

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On the roof of a house outside Truelove, Maine, master carpenter Max Doyle looks down through a skylight and sees the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. She’s naked, she’s gorgeous, and everything about her is perfect, down to the ball-busting tattoo of a rose that wraps around her hip. But it isn’t just any woman making his knees buckle. It’s his best friend, Rosie Madden. And as he stands there, mesmerized and precariously close to toppling off the roof, he knows he’ll never, ever be able to look at her the same way again.

Rosie can’t help but notice that Max is suddenly acting very strange—lots of long stares, totally tongue-tied, and not at all like the slightly cocky hunk she’s proud to call her best friend. She can’t figure it out, until later that night when Max rescues her from the world’s worst date, challenges her to a game of pool, and shows her just exactly what she’s got him thinking about. Repeatedly.

But life is complicated. Rosie’s cat, Julia Caesar, wants to eat Max’s dog Cupcake for an afternoon snack. A dream job threatens to pull them apart. And another glance through the skylight changes everything, one more time. Yet try as they might, they can’t go back to being just friends, because falling in love with the one you’ve always adored?

It feels so good.

Read my Review of So Good on Goodreads

Max

As I unlocked the door to my houseboat, I heard it. At first, it sounded like a duck paddling, but then I heard something else—a panting, or a gasping. For a second, it died down. It didn’t worry me, really, because the docks were full of weird noises, and boats were noisy as fuck. But I turned the deadbolt turned, the sound got louder and more frantic. Whatever it was, it didn’t sound good and it sure as hell didn’t sound like a duck. I let my work belt slide off my shoulder onto the deck, and looked down in the water, gripping the taffrail. There in the shadows, gasping, paddling, and panicking, I saw something small and wet and terrified.
​Holy fuck. It was a dog. A tiny, drowning dog.

​Fully clothed, boots on, I jumped into the water off the sternside. I plunged in deep, submerged in a world of shadowy barnacle-crusted dock pilings and chains holding anchors far below. Holding my breath and looking up toward the sunshine, through the bubbles that came down with me, I saw it. No bigger than a chicken, and kicking hard. I breaststroked toward the dog, aiming to come up right below it, but the salt water stung my eyes, and I closed them out of reflex. When I surfaced, it had gotten a few feet away. It was just a tiny thing, soaking wet, sucking in terrified breaths. It doggy-paddled in circles, slipping down into the water so that only its nose was above the surface. I did one strong breaststroke, but it was in full flight-or-fight mode, absolutely fucking petrified, and it paddled away from me, slipping out of my grasp. With one more big stroke, I had it, and I scooped it up into my arms to held her up out of the water, the way people do when the hold babies in the air. I saw it was a girl, her tummy soft and much less furry than the rest of her. Her big black eyes bugged out for an instant, and then…

She went limp in my hands. Lifeless, with her feet dangling down, her tongue hanging out. Her eyes were closed. On my palm, I couldn’t feel a heartbeat where I was sure there should have been one thrumming along.

​Fuck. Fuck.

​I gave her a shake, but she dangled like a rag doll.

I held her out of the water, keeping her in a tight bicep curl over my shoulder. Carefully, I maneuvered under the jetty that led to my boat. I got a toehold on the old dock ladder, rusty and unsteady. Using one hand to climb up, and using both boots like climbing picks, I emerged from my boat’s shadow and out into the sunshine of the dock. I laid her down on her back, supporting her lifeless body. With every passing millisecond, my heart fucking broke more and more. I could not let this happen. I could not let her die. I pulled myself up all the way and knelt beside her. She was flat on her back, with no signs of life at all. Her arms were limp at the wrists, and her paws dripped onto the dry wood beneath her. Still, her tongue hung out. Still, her eyes were shut. Still, she wasn’t breathing.

Somewhere, buried deep in my memory, I remembered learning the basics of canine CPR. I felt like maybe it was in my lifeguard class when I was in high school, but I didn’t fucking know and it didn’t fucking matter. All I knew was I had to do something, and fast. So I did. I wrapped my fingers around her tiny muzzle and brought my lips to her leathery nose. I blew gently, and as I did I felt her chest swell up. I held my own breath and prayed for anything, any sign of life, but there was nothing. Lightly, with the tips of my fingers, I did compressions on her soaking wet fur. One. Two. Three. And then I did another breath. One. Two. Three.
“Come on, little lady,” I whispered, and rolled her onto her side. I gave her a few pats, firm but not too hard. She was absolutely tiny—from scruff to tail, hardly bigger than the span of my hand. I rolled her over onto her back again and gave her one more breath, all the while going through the paces of what the fuck to do if this didn’t work. I had no goddamned idea whatsoever where the vet was. Did we even have a vet? Would she survive that long? What the fuck was I going to do?

But as I started the next set of compressions, she coughed. She actually coughed, like a tiny person, a gasping choking hack, accompanied by a few mouthfuls of water spilling out onto the wood planks.

Holy shit.

I froze with my hands just above her tiny body. Her strange, buggy eyes opened up and she started panting hard.

“Hey, hey!” I scooped her up in my arms, cradling her to my chest. I could tell by the way she was so limp against me that she was exhausted. Keeping her close to my body, to keep her warm and safe, I scratched the fur at the back of her neck, her tail started to wag. But she was also shivering hard, and I didn’t like that one bit.

 

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Nicola Rendell writes dirty, funny, erotic romance. She likes a stiff drink and a well-frosted cake. She is at an unnamed Ivy and prefers to remain mostly anonymous for professional reasons. She has a PhD in English and an MFA in Creative Writing from schools that shall not be named here. She loves to cook, sew, and play the piano. She realizes that her hobbies might make her sound like an old lady and she’s totally okay with that. She lives with her husband and her dogs. She is from Taos, New Mexico.
Author Links

 

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Hooking Up, by Helena Hunting: Cover Reveal & Pre-Order Opportunity

Hooking Up, an all-new sexy and hilarious standalone by Helena Hunting is coming November 7th!

Front Cover of Hooking Up  

Title: Hooking Up

Author: Helena Hunting

Publication Date: November 7th, 2017

Genre: Contemporary Romance

About Hooking Up:

Amalie Whitfield is the picture of a blushing bride during her wedding reception–but for all the wrong reasons. Instead of proclaiming his undying love, her husband can be heard, by Amalie and their guests, getting off with someone else. She has every reason to freak out, and in a moment of insanity, she throws herself at the first hot-blooded male she sees. But he’s not interested in becoming her revenge screw.

Mortified and desperate to escape the post-wedding drama, Amalie decides to go on her honeymoon alone, only to find the man who rejected her also heading to the same tiny island for work. But this time he isn’t holding back. She should know better than to sleep with someone she knows, but she can’t seem to resist him.

They might agree that what happens on the island should stay on the island, but neither one can deny that their attraction is more than just physical.

Filled with hilariously scandalous situations and enough sexual chemistry to power an airplane from New York City to the South Pacific, Hooking Up is the next standalone, laugh-out-loud romantic comedy from Helena Hunting, the New York Times bestselling author of the Pucked series and Shacking Up.

 HU-PreOrderNow

Preorder Today!  

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For more information visit: http://www.helenahunting.com/

Cover Reveal: Hard Wood, by Lauren Blakely – Pre-Order Today!

HARD WOOD is coming October 23, 2017!

A standalone romance told from the male Point-of-View, HARD WOOD is the final hot and hilarious book in the Big Rock series. Pre-order your copy today! Kindle users—stay tuned for the pre-order right before release! And don’t miss the hot, new cover below!

Front Cover, Hard Wood by Lauren Blakely

Cover Design by Helen Williams with Photography by Wander Aguiar Photography

About HARD WOOD:

Women often say a good man is hard to find. And a hard man is even better.

That’s why I’m quite a catch— good, hard, loaded, and wait for it…I’m ready to settle down too. But the woman I want to pitch my tent with is precisely the one I need to stay far away from.

After that fantastic night with Mia Summers, I’m ready to give her many more. But there’s a hitch in my plans — she just hired my company. If there’s one thing I’m committed to, it’s running a squeaky clean adventure tour business. One of the iron-clad rules?

Don’t screw your customers.

I can follow my own guidelines. After all, it’s only a week-long trip with Mia and her employees over the trails and down the hills I guide them on. I can obey the rules—even if it’s hard in the woods.

I’m about to give myself a badge of honor when the storm of the century hits, sending everyone else running for cover, but us—my biggest temptation and me, alone for a long weekend. You don’t screw the client, especially when you’re already in love with her . . .

But what’s a guy to do when she’s so hard to resist?

PREORDER YOUR COPY TODAY!

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About Lauren Blakely:
A #1 New York Times Bestselling author, Lauren Blakely is known for her contemporary romance style that’s hot, sweet and sexy. She lives in California with her family and has plotted entire novels while walking her dogs. With fourteen New York Times bestsellers, her titles have appeared on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestseller Lists more than eighty times, and she’s sold more than 2 million books. In September, she’ll release MOST VALUABLE PLAYBOY, a standalone sports romance. To receive an email when Lauren releases a new book, sign up for her newsletter! laurenblakely.com/newsletter

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My Best Friend’s Ex, by Meghan Quinn: Pre-Order Blast & Excerpt Reveal

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My Best Friend’s Ex, an all new sexy, laugh out loud romantic comedy is coming June 1st. Preorder today!

Full Cover, My Best Friend's Ex

My Best Friend’s Ex by Meghan Quinn
Publication Date: June 1st, 2017

Genre: Contemporary Romance

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:

“Morning,” Tucker’s deep voice rattles off the cabinets. It’s his morning voice, deeper, throatier—if that makes sense—and I hate to admit it, because he’s just my friend, but sexier.

Once my pupils adjust to the light, I take Tucker in. He’s standing in front of the stove, rubber spatula in hand, wearing a white long-sleeve Henley shirt, the top two buttons undone, a pair of worn jeans with a few paint stains on them, and tan work boots. Sweet Jesus, he makes construction look good. Strap a tool belt around his waist and stick him in front of a camera for the benefit of all womankind.

“Morning,” I say in reply, using the counter to help hold up my tired body. “You’re up early. What time do you have to go into work?”

“Around seven thirty. I like to get an early start before the boys come in.” He looks me up and down, a small smile at the corner of his lips. “You look good.” He motions around his head with his hand. “I really like what you did with your hair.”

I turn toward the window in the kitchen and check out my reflection. Sure enough, my long brown hair looks like a lion’s mane poofed out and framing my face with an abundance of volume. Beautiful.

There is no use in taming it, so I leave my hair as is and turn back toward Tucker. “Not many people can get this kind of height while sleeping.” I pretend to fluff my hair.

“Impressive.” He chuckles and then points to the coffee maker with the spatula. “Coffee is done, mugs are above in the cabinet. Grab me a cup, will ya? Eggs will be done shortly, bacon is warming in the oven.”

I do as directed, thinking it’s kind of cute how he’s including me in on his little morning breakfast. “I didn’t even know you had eggs. I was expecting to hit up Dunkin’ Donuts or Tim Horton’s this morning.”

He turns off the stove and reaches for two plates from the dish rack. “I went to Walmart this morning. Picked up a few things.”

“This morning?” I pour two cups of coffee and turn toward him. “What time did you wake up?”

“Four thirty,” he answers casually. “Got a quick run in, did some weights, took a shower and then went to Walmart.” He fills our plates with bacon and eggs and then nods toward the dining room, plates and silverware in hand. “I have a surprise.”

I follow him to the dining room where he flips on the light and reveals a card table fold-out dining set.

“You got a table.” I chuckle, loving that it’s a fold-out card table with matching chairs. Anything is better than the floor.

“And placemats,” he adds, as he lifts two plastic placemats from one of the chairs. “The options were bleak so I went with dinosaurs for me and Trolls for you. Given the look of your morning hair, Trolls was the right choice.” Clever bastard. He sets them on the table and then puts our plates on top of them.

God, it’s too freaking cute. Chuckling, I take a seat and hand him his coffee. “Look at you getting all domestic. I never thought you would be a placemat kind of man, I stand corrected.”

He rests a napkin on his legs, which are spread drastically, almost the length of the table and leans over to fork some eggs into his mouth. “Didn’t want our food to damage the plastic of this high-class table.” I love the humor in his voice, it reminds me of all the good times we had, before the end of his relationship with Sadie.

“Smart man, you want this table to last.”

“Of course, you don’t see fine furniture like this in houses anymore. Everything has to be so sturdy. What ever happened to rickety furniture and living through a meal with the threat of your food possibly kissing the floor at any point in time?”

“The horror,” I joke.

He looks up at me. Some of his hair is still wet from his shower. Pointing his fork at me he says, “Are you ready to be schooled?”

“Schooled on what?” I take a bite of bacon and my stomach jumps in excitement for finally rewarding it for waking up early. All right, I will admit it, getting out of bed was a smart idea.

“It’s Monday, babe. DJ Hot Cock has his song picked and ready to show you what real music is.”

“When was my music taste ever questioned? I like good music.”

“We’ll see.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. I watch as he flips through it until he lands on the song he wants to introduce me to. He presses play and sets his phone on the table. The light pickings of a guitar fill the small dining room. I don’t recognize the song, but I like the sound of it so far.

Just as I’m settling in to the sweet pickings of a guitar, the distinct voice of Zac Brown chimes in. I’ve known Tucker for loving EMO growing up, so his choice in a country song is very surprising to me, but when I look up at him, pure hometown country boy sitting across from me, it makes perfect sense.

And then the lyrics hit me. My Old Man. Zac sings about his father, hoping he’s proud of the man he’s become. I’m transported back to a dreary day in Whitney Point, where we grew up, when Sadie called me one Saturday morning. I was getting ready for the day. We were in middle school. Tucker’s dad was killed by a head-on collision, the dad Tucker just reconnected with, the dad Tucker had plans on moving in with to get away from his neglectful mom. Those next few days—and weeks—were a whirlwind of sorrow. Attending his funeral, my first ever funeral, seeing the look of devastation on Tucker’s face, wondering what he might be feeling, trying to channel his hurt, it was so much to take on as a teenager.

Glancing up, I take in Tucker’s expression. He’s lost in the music, in the words, just like me. When the song ends, I lean over and place my hand on his, our eyes meet and there is an unspoken understanding between us. I don’t have to say anything about his dad, about the tragedy we went through so many years ago together as friends. It’s all said between this silent exchange.

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UnfixablePieces

About the Author:

A 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! 

MeghanQuinn

Connect with Meghan:

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Website: http://www.authormeghanquinn.com/

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