Monday, January 11, 2016

The Mother Road by Meghan Quinn: Sneak Peek Excerpt

Blurb:

Never in a million years would I have pictured myself as an axe-wielding, dragon lady, chopping up multi-colored flannel shirts into my very own plaid mulch. But here I am, chopping away my frustrations.

It all started when my brother, Paul, convinced me to go on one last family road trip across the Mother Road with him and my dad.. Just like old times, right? Wrong. What Paul fails to mention is his best man, Porter, will be joining us, who just so happens to be my childhood crush and the man who broke my heart four years ago.

What is supposed to be a fun, family bonding experience across Route 66 turns into a war of pranks, awkward moments and bathrooms full of dirty flannel shirts and day old beard clippings. Paul’s know-it-all attitude and Porter’s devilish charm brings me to the brink of my sanity on my seven day trek across the United States with three bearded men in a small 1980’s RV.

Releases: January 12, 2016


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About the Author:

When I was in high school I occasionally read books but was consumed by other teenage things so I didn't take the time to appreciate a good book on a cloudy day, wrapped up in a blanket on the couch. It wasn't until I received a Kindle for Christmas one year that my world completely flipped upside down. When looking for books I came across the Contemporary Romance genre and was sold and I haven't turned back since.

You can either find my head buried in my Kindle, listening to inspiring heart ripping music or typing away on the computer twisting and turning the lives of my characters while driving my readers crazy with anticipation.

​I currently reside in beautiful Colorado Springs where the sun is always shining and there is a trail waiting to be hiked on every corner. I share a lovely and warm home with the love of my life and my five, four-legged children.

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Excerpt:

While the men are showering, I step up into the RV and stare down the bitch bed, aka, the dining table. If it’s anything like I remember, I’m in for a night full of the inability to stretch my body out, my arms getting stuck in the crevices of the cushions, and the worry if I’m going to fall through the table only to end up with a particle board piece of scrap shoved uncomfortably up my ass.

Dreading the night in front of me, I toss the cushions to the floor and grab the leg from underneath that’s holding up the table. It’s a little rusty, so trying to fold it up is challenging.

“Come on you geriatric plate holder. Get in there,” I say to it.

With fear of being pinched by the rusty leg’s button that won’t go in, I grab the hem of my shirt and bring it up to the button to protect my fingers. The cotton shields me, giving me more confidence to press harder.

“Don’t be a little bitch; work with me here.”

I grunt and shift my body to apply more pressure. Sweat starts to tickle my temples and I swear some more, throwing my entire body into the table.

“Do you need me to warm you up before I push your button? Are you a needy little lady? Fine. I can stroke you.” I take a break from the button and start running my hand up and down the leg of the dining table. The cold metal starts to warm from my pumping. “Yeah, you like that, don’t you, leg? Come on, work with me now.”

Moving my shirt back up to the button, exposing almost my entire front half, I press it in, throwing my back into it. With a final grunt and a thrust from my upper half, the button gives in. I scream from surprise and my fingers slip, trapping my shirt in the button hole while the leg of the table still stands straight as an aroused pencil cock.

“Damn it!” I flop to the ground, the hem of my shirt rising up around my neck, my entire front exposed just in time for Porter’s viewing pleasure.

Mid stride, he stops on the second step of the RV’s entrance when he sees me sitting on the floor, stuck in the table. He takes in the scene in front of him and his eyes turn a shade darker when his eyes land on my bare skin. If I didn’t think he was by far the hottest piece of male ass I’ve ever seen, I would have considered him a perv for the amount of time he took observing my appearance.

Scrambling out of view, I turn my back to him and fumble with the stupid leg again.

“Having some trouble?” I can feel his chest against my back, leaning over to see what I’m up to.

“Nope.” I scoot closer to the pole, my legs straddling it as if I’m borrowing the steel rod from a gnome’s strip club to conduct my own tantalizing dance.

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