Noely Clark is looking for love in Three Blind Dates by Meghan Quinn, an upcoming standalone romantic comedy! Read an exclusive excerpt from the book here!
About ‘Three Blind Dates’ by Meghan Quinn:
“Good Morning Malibu, it’s another beautiful day on the west coast! I’m Noely Clark, your host: and I’m in the market for love…”
When the publicity team of the new local restaurant, Going in Blind, began their search for a hot, local celebrity to promote the wildly popular eatery, they couldn’t have found a better person than me.
Outgoing? Check.
Single? Check.
Open to finding love? Check.
I signed up immediately.
A hopeless romantic with an exceedingly demanding schedule, I’ve found it impossible to find the man of my dreams—so Going in Blind seems too good to be true! That’s until they start setting me up on dates—three very different, very attractive, very distinct blind dates—and only one thing is for certain . . .
I’m in big trouble.
Good Morning Malibu, I’m Noely Clark, and I have a choice to make. The question is who will I choose; the suit, the rebel, or the jock.
‘Three Blind Dates’ by Meghan Quinn exclusive excerpt:
When I open my eyes, Danny is staring at me, concern etched in his features. “Give me another, bar tenda,” I say with a weird accent.
Something is happening to me, and I fear for IceBiscuit. He’s in for quite the ride, that’s for damn sure.
“Maybe we slow down,” Danny suggests. “How about for every whiskey, you drink a water? I think that’s a good idea.”
I lean over the bar and wiggle my finger at Danny in a “come hither” manner. When he’s right in front of me, I lean forward even more and grab his shirt, bringing him in dangerously close, our foreheads touch.
“Danny . . . dearest man who serves me booze. Do you see the way my eyes are flitting back and forth? Can you feel the crazy exuding from them?” He nods, swallowing hard. “This is my third date here, okay? This is my third time trying to find somebody to love me after two failed attempts from this supposedly perfect matchmaking system. I’m feeling a little out of control, mildly psychotic, and you know what, I will just say it, slightly turned on.” Shit, I didn’t want to say that to Danny. Shaking that thought, I continue, “So please be a gent, and scamper behind your little bar and give me more whiskey. Got it?”
I push him back, releasing his shirt and like a perfect lady, fold my hands on the bar, waiting for my drink.
“You know there have been many people—”
“I’m going to stop you right there.” I smile crazily at him. I can feel the devil trying to peek out. You know, the inner devil all women have, the one who turns us into a flame-throwing, fire-spitting she-dragon when people are least expecting it? I’m teetering the line right now, ready to burn this restaurant to the ground.
To the mother effing ground!
“Just bring me the booze.” I tap the bar counter. “Right here, put the booze right here. Go on, friend. Booze me up. Give me all the riches of intoxication.”
Sighing, Danny gives in to my demands and fills up another glass. When he sets it in front of me, I lean over and tap him on the cheek. “Such a good boy.”
With both hands, I grip the tumbler and pour it back in my mouth like I’m trying to get the crumbs out of an almost-empty chip bag. The liquid burns my throat once again, but I welcome it. I welcome the shudders, loving how I can feel my body starting to float. I have one more glass, because why not? Yes, this was a good idea. A very good idea. I just need to loosen up, find my groove, feel the blind date—
“ShopGirl?”
I spin around in my chair, probably a little too fast, given I need to grip the back of my chair to steady myself.
“IceBiscuit?” My eyes don’t meet his. Instead, I’m at nipple level, taking in his very broad and muscular chest. Wow. Heat rises to the back of my neck, and I know it’s not the whiskey; it’s the powerful chest right in front of me, and are those . . . are those his pecs? They’re all defined and large and yummy and . . . sigh. Curiosity pops out of me before I can stop myself, and I poke his chest. When I’m greeted with a firm bounce, I giggle to myself. “Pecs,” I mutter under my breath. Yep, yummy indeed. IceBiscuit is putting the work in at the gym and not shoving cheesesteaks down his throat. Hand on his chest, my fingers diddling his shirt, I look up to find a very confused but familiar face.
Shit.
Crap.
Oh God.
About Meghan Quinn:
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!
Three Blind Dates by Meghan Quinn will be released on January 4! Don’t forget to add it to your Goodreads and sign up for news on this release!