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Thursday, June 11, 2020

RELEASE DAY: The Change Up by Meghan Quinn

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THE CHANGE UP by Meghan Quinn

Release Date: June 11th
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Add to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/3dCrXbU


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AVAILABLE NOW!!!

FREE in Kindle Unlimited!




Seriously, I would LOVE to know how Meghan Quinn can create male after male of just amazing specimen! Maddox is seriously a gift! Where ever she gets her inspiration from, I hope she never runs out! Her males are some of my favorite characters EVER! Maddox is the perfect example of why women love (read obsess) over bad boys, he’s completely charming, he’s hilarious, he has this sweetness that is completely endearing. He also has this cockiness, this is a Meghan Quinn book after all, but his cockiness comes off charming and I. Can’t. Get. Enough. of him! She has this gift, this ability to get me totally smitten with her characters just pages in and The Change Up was no different. I could reread that first chapter a dozen times and laugh so hard I cry every single time.

I was going to say that Kinsley was just created for Maddox but DUH! I mean, yeah, ha ha! See this is what Meghan Quinn does to me. She makes me forget that this is a story and I think I’m reading about real people and real lives. So yeah, Kinsley was just the perfect ying to Maddox’s yang. The banter and chemistry between these two was just irresistible! So while so much of this story had me smiling and super happy, we do get to a point where Meghan Quinn flips her switch and the emotion and the complexity that is life comes in to play. This all just makes her books more charming and real feeling! I can’t recommend Meghan Quinn more than I already do… read her! Like all of her books but especially this adorably, hilarious series! She writes a mead sports romance!

I received an ARC of this book with the hope that I would leave an Unbiased Opinion. I was not required to leave a review, positive or otherwise, and my opinions are just that... my opinions.   






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BLURB:

BREAKING NEWS: The Bad Boy of Baseball, Maddox Paige, is totally and utterly whipped.

Okay, that might not be the headlines in the newspaper this morning, but it's the reality of my current situation.

It all started a month ago when I received a call from my best friend, Kinsley. She got a new job in Chicago and needed a place to stay. I've known the girl since I was five, what harm would it be to have her stay at my place for a while?

Ha! Total disaster.

Now instead of going out every night with my teammates, I'm couch surfing and sketching endless photos of my best friend . . . but that's the least of my concerns.

The disaster, you ask? I'm rapidly falling head over cleats in love with my best friend, my roommate, and my number one fan.

And she has no idea . . .


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PROLOGUE:

**MADDOX**


Have you ever said something you regret?

Something you haven’t forgotten about an hour later?

Something that sits with you, stews deep in your belly, and then seeps into your bones, burying itself so far into your marrow that all you can think about is the one thing you said . . . and how you wished you could take it back the minute it slipped past your lips?

That’s where I am.

Full of regret.

People always say, “Don’t regret anything. It’s what makes you who you are.” That was said in a whiney, nasally voice. Did you hear it?

Well, those people, the ones trying to spew rainbows and sunshine up your ass about blatant mistakes . . . yeah, they’re only saying that because they fuck up on a daily basis.

Think about it, what REAL person is okay with all their regrets? No one. There is always that one thing you did, that one time, that you will always, always, always think . . . “What if I’d done that differently?”

It keeps you up at night.

You wonder, what transformed, what took over my brain, to utter such words. To alter your life completely and send it down an entirely different course.

Yeah, my life has been fucking altered all right.

Everything was fine.

I was pitching one hell of a fucking season for the Rebels, my ride or die team. I was getting along with my teammates, even the infamous Cory Potter, who made a splash after last season. I’ll hand it to the man, he really is the boss. I was getting laid whenever I wanted, which is always a plus for a guy who has massive amounts of adrenaline pumping through him daily, especially on a pitching day. And there were no strings attached.

None.

Yeah, I might have a rotation of women I call, but any single player in the major leagues does. You need the outlet. Even the prestigious Cory Potter had some booty call numbers before he found Natalie.

I was living a great life, and then it all changed. And it changed fucking fast.

Before I knew it, I was staring into my fridge at dairy products not made from a cow, but rather from oat. What the fuck is that? Oat milk? Explain to me where an oat has a goddamn nipple.

My toothbrush is made from bamboo, which gives off a very woody, splintery taste, and I’ve been using toothpaste tablets instead of paste from a tube . . . because apparently, tubes suck up life in the landfill.

The eco-friendly toilet paper in my apartment disintegrates in my hand and is worthless, making bathroom breaks a fucking nightmare.

And there’s a goddamn three-legged dog in a suit and tie sitting on my couch that goes by the name Herman, or Hermy for short.

I don’t have any privacy, I don’t even remember what meat tastes like anymore, and “Hermy” has a goddamn staring problem. And the three-legged motherfucker, yeah, he’s stealthy. I find him waiting for me outside the shower . . . staring.

When I wake up . . . staring.

When I’m trying to make a goddamn tempeh sandwich . . . staring.

Every time I tell him to “get a life” or to “fuck off” or for the love of Christ “get a new hobby”, he doesn’t even bat an eyelash.

He just stares!

I can’t fucking take it anymore.

I’m losing my goddamn mind and I don’t know . . . maybe it’s because I haven’t had sex in what feels like forever, or because my burgers are now made of imposter “meat”, or maybe because I’m forced to do things I don’t want to do. Either way, something needs to give, because I’m pretty sure from all the vegan shit I’ve been eating, my armpits are just about ready to spring their own mung beans.

Christ.

One phone call.

That’s all it took.

One fucking phone call from a person I cannot say no to, a person who will forever and always be . . . my insanely beautiful and free-spirited best friend.


 About the Author:
USA Today Bestselling Author, wife, adoptive mother, and peanut butter lover. Author of romantic comedies and contemporary romance, Meghan Quinn brings readers the perfect combination of heart, humor, and heat in every book.



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