Blog Tour (Book Review & Excerpt): Twisted Twosome by Meghan Quinn


{BOOK REVIEW}
Title: Twisted Twosome
Author: Meghan Quinn
Reviewer: Michelle @Michelle6803
Genre: NA Romantic Comedy
Rating: 4.5 stars
 

Purchase: http://hyperurl.co/99udeh
Add to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2uarCWF

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.

Oh sweet loving Racer McKay. I met him in My Best Friend’s Ex, don’t worry, you don’t have to read that one, but you should if you love Meghan Quinn and her rom/com stories. Racer is a hardworking man, emphasis on hardworking. He’s trying to make ends meet, living paycheck to paycheck and still the bills are piling up and he’s on the verge of losing the house he helped build with his father. He meets his match in the likes of “spoiled socialite” Georgiana Westbrook.

While the hot construction worker is working on her dad’s pool house, Georgiana is trying to put a plan to convince her father that she can open up her own business, specifically a bridal boutique. Her friend Madison dares her to ask the hot guy working on her home to see if he would help her out. Yeah, their meet cute didn’t go over so well. Racer is tired dealing with the spoiled “Princess” he sees tanning everyday, but when her friend Madison asks for him to help her friend out, he assumed it was something out of his “comfort zone” Let’s just say whenever I hear Uptown Funk by Bruno Mars, I going to remember this part of the book that had me laughing out loud.

Georgiana’s business plan, although great in paper and she had all the research to back up her plan, her dad, although impressed, he feels her “place in the world is to get a husband”. Yeah her dad was not a pleasant individual, so archaic and chauvinistic. Georgiana was going to prove her father wrong, even if she had to put up with the annoying yet hot construction guy. These two were enemies for sure. The pranks and jokes they would pull on each other were too funny. You know what happens, right? Yep, they get down and dirty and boy do they ever. Mr. Racer has a dirty mouth to go with his tool belt, if you know what I mean. Oh but what a sweet soul he had too. He would almost anything to see Georgiana succeed. Because he truly saw she wasn’t really the “spoiled Princess” he assumed she was. Besides her brothers and her best friend, he truly was her number one fan.

This book was a bit of a slow burn, but it needed it to be that way, especially with the pranks these two would pull on each other, but more than that, you get to see a side of Racer that will break and melt your heart all at once. It was nice seeing Tucker and Smalls making an appearance, and having Emma as Georgiana’s first customer. Overall, I really loved this book. I laughed out loud which I always do whenever I read a Meghan Quinn book, but also I shed a few tears. So get ready for some Twisted Twosome, you won’t regret.

– Michelle

*An ARC was provided for an honest review.

 

 

 

“Thanks for lunch, I haven’t had a fine peanut butter and jelly sandwich in quite some time.” Racer takes a giant bite from one of three sandwiches I made him. The man can eat; I just want to know where he puts it all. “What is this, crunchy peanut butter?” He looks over the sandwich, studying it intently.
“Yes, it’s crunchy with mixed berry jam.”
He nods and takes another bite. He talks with his mouth full, which for some weird reason makes him oddly adorable. “Nice touch, George. The peanuts add a nice texture.”
“Are you going all food critic on my PB and J skills right now?”
Lifting his shirt, he dabs away some of the sweat that’s collecting on his forehead, beneath his backward hat. His abs flex with the movement, drawing my attention. Each divot calling out to me to touch, to examine . . . to lick.
“I think every human should be judged on their PB and J skills.”
I pull my eyes away from his stomach just in time not to get caught staring. “Why do you think that?”
“Because,” he takes another bite, “I think building a peanut butter and jelly sandwich is in everyone’s repertoire, but only the truly skilled know how to make a proper one. And I want to be friends with the truly skilled.”
“Is that so?” I take a drink of my green tea and study him for a second, watching the way the muscles in his jaw move with each bite and swallow. It’s sexy.
His neck is sexy? Is that possible?
“So where do I land on your scale of sandwich artists?”
He smiles from my term, and I realize how much I adore his boyish charm. Pulling his eyes away from me, he examines one of the sandwiches I made him and starts assessing it. “Good ratio of peanut butter to jelly. Nice choice in bread. The crunch you added has been a pleasant surprise, and the mixed berry jam is fucking delightful.” I giggle from his girly term. “But . . .”
I perk up; there’s a but? “But what?”
He quirks his mouth to the side, almost to say, “Sorry, but you’re not quite perfect.” “The bread, it should have been toasted. Toasting it would have taken you to boss level when it comes to the PB and J.”
“Toasting it?”
He nods and takes another bite. “When you don’t toast a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, the peanut butter and bread form a paste on the roof of your mouth. Even though it tastes good, it can get quite irritating.”
“But I didn’t have a toaster.”
“Rookie mistake.”
“Well, If I knew I was going to be critiqued, I would have sprung for bacon.”
He pauses mid bite and stares at me over his sandwich. “You’re a beast for bringing up the option.”
I polish off the rest of my sandwich and wipe my fingers. “Well, maybe next time you’ll communicate expectations better. I’m not a mind reader, Racer. Frankly, the fact I didn’t make boss level is on you, not me.”
I stand and gather my trash as he stares me down. “Don’t you turn this on me. You didn’t have a toaster. The toaster is what’s key. This is on you, Georgie. This is on you!” he calls out as I make my way to the back, laughing to myself the entire time.

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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