THE SETUP by Meghan Quinn
Release Date: September 10th
Genre: Romantic Comedy
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BLURB:
I’ve
fallen victim to a heinous act.
An act so vile, so downright dirty, that I’m not sure as a twenty-year-old man
I'll ever recover. Brace yourself, because what I’m about to tell you
might have you gasping in secondhand horror.
Ready? Here it goes . . .
I’ve recently become the pawn of a meddling mom.
Yes . . . A MEDDLING MOM--who's been trying to set me up all summer.
Now, I understand it’s not a crime for a mother to want her child to fall in
love, but when she makes it her relentless MISSION, the heinous act should
be classified as a misdemeanor at least.
Of course, my mom, the evil matriarch in the devil’s leggings, made her final
stab at finding a girl for me days before I went back to college.
And I hate to admit it, but she saved a doozy for last.
A titan in black skinny jeans.
A boss of nonchalance.
And a girl who would not only turn my life upside down, but do it while
juggling a soccer ball, looking effortlessly gorgeous around campus, and
is one hundred percent against relationships. Of any sort.
Thanks, Mom.
PROLOGUE:
**LINCOLN**
I’ve
fallen victim to a heinous act.
An
act so vile, so downright dirty, that I’m not sure . . .
as
a son,
as
a member of society,
as
a twenty-year-old man . . . I will ever recover.
Ever.
I
see the concern in your eyes, your hand wandering up your chest to clutch the
collar of your sensible cotton shirt, scared to find out the truth.
Brace
yourself against something sturdy, because what I’m about to tell you might
just knock you back on your ass in horror.
*Deep
breaths, everyone*
I’ve
recently become the pawn of a meddling mom.
Yup,
you read that right. A MEDDLING mom.
The
bane of a son’s existence.
I
know what you’re wondering . . . what did she do? Make me
pick up my socks during summer break?
*Eye-rolling*
*Woe
is you*
*Grow
up*
You grow up!
Ehhh,
that was a little harsh. But before you go and put your judgy face on, you need
to know the difference between a nagging mom and a meddling mom.
A
nagging mom is one who storms into the living room while you’re trying to watch
the series finale of Game of Thrones, complaining about the dishes in
the sink you swore you’d take care of once you found out who took the throne.
Nag,
nag, nag—part of the daily routine of the person who birthed you, or in this
case, one of two moms who adopted me.
But
a meddling mom, oh boy. They’re a fresh kind of hell wrapped up in high-waisted
leggings and muted tunics. This isn’t some everyday mom who texts you GIFs of
squirrels playing with a hula hoop. Nope, meddling moms have an agenda.
An
agenda that they believe benefits their children. But it really benefits
them . . . and only them.
In
this case, my mom’s agenda: get Lincoln to fall in love.
I
understand it’s not a crime for a mother to want her child to fall in love, but
let me tell you. When she makes it her mission when you’re home from college,
it should be classified as a misdemeanor.
That’s
right, all freaking summer, my mom has made it her duty to set me up with girl
after girl, all of whom she’s met in our hometown Kalamazoo, Michigan. I’d like
to say I’m exaggerating that she made a list and set me up with every
eligible girl—one by one—but I’m not.
I
saw the Excel spreadsheet on her computer.
Girls
who were highlighted in red were a no-go.
Girls
in green still had a fighting chance.
Girls
in yellow? Apparently, I had lukewarm interaction with them, but they showed
promise.
Why
is she so desperate for me to fall head over heels?
Can
you believe she’s been spending time on the Internet, researching relationship
statuses of major league baseball players? Well, she has. Too much time.
And she said she didn’t want me to end up forty, about to retire, with nothing
to say for my life other than that I was able to throw a ball off a mound.
She
also wants a girl to fawn over.
When
my mothers were adopting, Mom hoped for a girl, but Mama hoped for a boy. Don’t
get me wrong, my mom loves me more than anything—hence the meddling and
nagging—but she always wanted to do girly things with me, like have tea
parties, get our toenails done, shit like that.
Side
note: I’ve done the pedicure thing with her, and it’s not that bad.
But
she wants a daughter, and apparently, a daughter-in-law is the next best thing.
Which
brings me back to my summer of “not love.” I wanted nothing to do with these
girls and after my mom’s eighth attempt to set me up—yes, eight—I told her
enough was enough. I was done.
And
thankfully she listened . . . until the last Saturday
before I left for school.
The
evil matriarch in the devil’s leggings made her final stab at finding a girl
for me.
And
I hate to admit it, but she saved a doozy for last.
A
fucking titan in black skinny jeans.
A
boss of nonchalance.
And
a girl who will not only turn my life upside down, but do it while juggling a
soccer ball, looking effortlessly gorgeous, and is one hundred percent against
relationships. Of any sort.
Thanks,
Mom.
*Thumbs
up*
Your
meddling has made me absolutely miserable.
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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