Monday, May 19, 2014

#Review: Perfect 10 A Cosmo Red Hot Read @HarlequinBooks @authorerin

Book Title: Perfect 10 (A Cosmo Red Hot Reads)
Author: Erin McCarthy |WebsiteTwitterFacebook|
Publisher: Harlequin/Cosmo Red Hot
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series/Standalone: Standalone
Format: ebook
Cost: $3.99
Pages: 71
How I got it: NetGalley
Purchase: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Publisher
Publication Date: May 13, 2014
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Katrina's Lesson in Social Media Disasters or How Technology Can Bite You in the A** Katrina Phillips is an expert social media manager. But that doesn't mean she can't make mistakes. Horrible, hide-in-your-closet-forever mistakes…like accidentally syncing her BootyBook app with her online profiles. Blammo. Now everyone in the world can see who Katrina has dated and how they rated in appearance, sexual performance and (OMG) detailed descriptions of their manly parts! Now her phone is blowing up with angry exes—and an out-of-the-blue text from the only guy who came close to a perfect score…. Katrina has had a thing for Drew Jordan since forever ago, even if a booze-fuelled one-nighter did destroy their friendship. So why is he suddenly texting her now—and is it because she rated his Sexy Staff of Manliness as "magnificent?" Now the only way to satisfy her curiosity is to reunite with Drew…and rate him all over again!
OMG. Are you insane????
Katrina Phillips glanced at the text from her best friend, Samantha, and ignored it. She didn’t have time for drama. She was on the subway and she was late posting the Deal of the Day for one of her clients, Mind & Body Yoga, on all of its social networking sites. She really should have at least gone through the tutorial on her new phone, but she’d figured it was a phone, not a plane. She’d had a dozen previous smartphones, each one simpler to figure out than the preceding model.
Except for this one. All her apps and contacts and data had transferred, but it seemed to be doing some sort of internal knitting together of every individual account she had, weaving them into one lumpy, messy pile of informational yarn. Which reminded her. She had to tell the knitting club she’d joined on a whim that she was quitting. She sucked at knitting.
Only she couldn’t do that because she couldn’t figure her damn phone out.
Her phone dinged again and it was a text from Bryan, a guy she’d gone out with twice who had agreed that they’d split the check for cocktails, then had managed to slide the change into his pocket when she wasn’t looking, stiffing her five bucks. Why would he be contacting her after two months of mutual avoidance?
Well. Good thing he’d bothered to get that off his chest. Annoyed, she deleted the text. Only to have another one replace it.
Hey, baby, wassup? Long time no talk.
O-kay. That was Dirk, a hookup from the year before. Hot, funny, great in bed. Not one to call the next day, as she’d found out. Why would he be crawling out of the woodwork?
Along with James, whom she’d dated for two months.
And Seth.
And Michael.
The texts and emails rolled in, one right after the other, like a This is Your Sex Liferetrospective, and she thought OMG was about right. This could not be a coincidence. Alarmed, she shifted on her plastic seat, the coughs of the other passengers and the rumble of the train louder than she was used to. She wasn’t studiously ignoring everyone with her earbuds in as she usually did, because she couldn’t use her phone. And had she mentioned she couldn’t figure out her phone?
Why? She texted Samantha, suddenly very, very concerned.
Go to your profile.
It took her an agonizing minute to figure out how to bypass all the initial demands her phone was making of her. Honestly, it was worse than her mother and no, she would not like the GPS enabled right this second, she freaking knew where she was. But when she finally got to her profile and saw what exactly her glorious little piece of electronics had synced, she wanted a GPS to guide her to the nearest hole to crawl her hipster ass into and die.
Her BootyBook app had synced with her personal page.
Now every detail about every guy that she had logged in to her handy, and slightly tawdry, app equivalent of a little black book was now visible to everyone. Including ratings on their manners, clothes, conversation during the date, and yes, their penis size if she had hooked up with him. Along with whether or not she’d had an orgasm, the quality of foreplay, and her overall general impression of his sexual prowess.
OMG became OMFG.
Delete, delete, delete. Her hands started to shake, her armpits cranked out massive quantities of sweat, and her heart started to race so fast she wondered if a stress heart attack was possible at twenty-four. “Come on, come on,” she muttered to her phone, evil little piece of shit that it was, and clicked and scrolled and pinched and read, trying to figure out how in the hell she could get rid of what she had just seen. Forever.
When she thought she’d severed the mysterious connection she refreshed the site and finally remembered to breathe. It was gone. She called Samantha. “Check and see if it’s still there!” she blurted out without a greeting, her phone slipping in her sweaty hand. There wasn’t air-conditioning strong enough in the world to prevent clammy palms in this situation.
“It’s gone!” Samantha said, her voice triumphant. “Thank God. What the hell happened?”
“I don’t know, exactly.” Regardless of the fact that leaning against a subway window was never a good hygiene choice, she needed the support. She sagged backward. “But it doesn’t matter how. It did and I seriously don’t want to think about how many people saw it.” Given the commonality of instant notifications on status updates, it could be a lot. Everyone on her friends list. Including her mother.
Her phone dinged in her ear. And then again.
Katrina smacked the back of her head into the window so hard she actually managed to garner a side glance from the man sitting next to her, no small feat in New York, where eye contact on the subway was a social no-no. “I’m going to die,” she told Samantha.
The man looked away again. He so didn’t care.
“I’ll meet you at your place,” Samantha told her. “I’ll bring wine.”
“Thanks.” It was something.
“We’ll strategize damage control. Don’t freak.”
Yeah, too late. “All right, thanks. See you in a bit. Bye.” Tucking her hair behind her ear, Katrina bit her lip and gave her phone a sidelong tentative glance as it rested in her lap on her red skinny jeans, afraid to see who the latest texts were from.
Except one was from Drew Jordan, her best friend at NYU, her secret crush for four years, then her onetime lover after a boozy night at an art exhibit. Her throat caught as she frantically read the text, all too aware of what he must have seen.
Magnificent penis huh? I’m kinda speechless.
And with that, her humiliation was complete.
Because while there were quite a few BootyBook entries she remembered only in the vaguest sense, she distinctly recalled what she had written about Drew in the first flush of morning-after bliss when he had left her apartment. She had rated him a nine, skimping on a full ten because they weren’t in an actual dating relationship and because she had coaxed him into bed only after many vodka tonics. For kissing she had given him a ten, along with the description “dreamy.” His penis had been rated, well, magnificent, as he had noticed.
And she had written, “Now I understand what everyone is saying. Sex with someone you love is better. Happy sigh.”
But that happy sigh had turned into weeks of misery when it became apparent that neither one of them knew how to deal with the sexual aftermath of crossing that line in their friendship. She had acted weird, texting him too much. He had pulled away. She had flaunted a guy in front of him at a concert. He said she drank too much. Then came that fateful day when she realized that he was avoiding her altogether.
And she had absolutely and utterly humiliated herself by drunk texting him that she missed him.
So really, in the context of that text, she wasn’t sure she’d made it any worse.
God. Her life was over. No man was ever going to want to date her again.
Excerpt Provided by Erin's website
I believe I have shared my obsession no let's call it fervent love of Erin Mcarthy plenty of times before.  I mean I gush about Sweet, and True, and Believe all the time!!  So when I saw this on NetGalley I prayed that I would get it, and wehn I did?? Happy dance Happy dance.

As always, Erin writes, fun, strong and quirky characters.  This is a good look at friendship and it's many varied paths.  First Kat and Drew were college friends, and then one night they stepped over that boundary, their friendship never recovered.  When Kat accidentally reveals to all her social network contacts her feelings about certain male partners, life couldn't get any worse.  To say I laughed my butt off, and could totally understand how this happened I just couldn't stop chuckling at her. I shared right away with three friends the book and they all went and purchased because they loved the excerpt.

I felt Kat was a well written character that was relateable, likeable, funny and well set to take the world by storm ( or her part of the world anyway). And of course the fact that she and Drew live in my hometown doesn't have anything to do with it at all. Nope, my love of New York doesn't influence it not one bit. Ok that's a total lie, I loved reading about their adventures in New York, how the city helped them, changed them and made itself a part of who they were to become.  I loved that Kat was a modern girl with all the quirks and fear and beliefs, she was totally someone I went to college with. Heck even parts of her could be me.

It's a cute quirky story, especially because her job is social media. I loved it!!!i highly recommend this for a quick rump through New York and the brush with love and friendship that is set to burn up the sheets!! Enjoy my loves.
Happy Reading

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