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Jack Robinson and Andy Stone are best friends, navigating their way through life in 90s London with a soundtrack of Britpop. Jack’s in his final year at university and still has no idea about what he wants to do with his life, while Andy’s a mechanic by day, a bit of a man-whore the rest of the time.
Adapting to a new place to live in a big city isn’t easy, especially when girls, alcohol, and hard work get in the way, but having your best friend with you every step of the way makes it that much easier… well, when you’re not ignoring each other.
Filled with laughter and heartache, Jack and Andy’s story is for everyone. A hint of romance, a solid friendship, and plenty of stupid mistakes. But, will they learn from them?
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4 July 2017 – Amazon/KU only for a while
Pre Order will be going live soon
Arriving at my parking space, I stopped short when I saw my car. It was absolutely trashed; glass littered the ground around me from the shattered windows and the bricks that held it up off the ground seemed to mock me with their newness. It started to rain, lightly.
“Absolutely… Unfucking… Believable.” My words came out through clenched teeth as I once again rooted around in my pockets, this time for change for the phone box I could see across the road. “I can’t believe this,” I grumbled away to myself as I dialled Andy’s work number. “Hey, man, I really need your towing thing,” I said the second he answered.
“It’s called an ‘A frame’, you idiot, and what bit fell off this time, mate?” Andy was laughing at me. He always laughed at me and my car, taking the piss when bits happened to fall off her.
“Nothing fell off, you prick? Someone killed my car. They actually killed her, wheels and all! Can you come rescue what’s left of her?” I told him where I was, put the phone down to end the call, and walked back over to my car.
Despite the cold and wet, I sat on the damp curb; my parka coat pulled under my backside, and looked at my beat up old car. It wasn’t much, just a mangy old Ford Capri, but she was mine.The shitty stereo chewed up more tapes than it played and the seats weren’t too comfortable, but it was my car, my pride and joy. I just hoped Andy would be able to work his mechanical magic. Hearing a rumble, I turned to see the man himself turn the corner in his large 4×4. It was just as old as my car, but built like a damn tank.
“Fucking hell, Jack, that car has been well and truly violated, mate. I feel for you.” He clapped his huge hand down onto my shoulder. I cringed as pain radiated across my back. Andy was enormous, both in height and build. I was considered tall, at six feet one, but he dwarfed me. His work as a mechanic, coupled with his gym sessions created muscles out of his muscles, something he was quick to use to his advantage when chatting up the ladies, one of his favourite pastimes. Coupled with his dark hair, olive skin, and brown eyes, all the girl fell at his feet. Some even came back for seconds.
“Will you be able-,” His eyes were roaming against every broken, scratched and dented part of my beloved girl.
“I’m insulted, Jack. Once I’m done with her, she’ll be purring.” Andy’s shit eating grin was wide. As usual, he managed to make a simple sentence sound sexual.
“Let’s get started, but I can tell you now, this won’t be cheap, mate. You sure you’re up for it? It might just be worth finally weighing it in for scrap and getting something else.”
I just glared at him as we hooked the car up to the towing frame and headed back to the garage.
“Okay, maybe not then.”
Check out the playlist for the book on Spotify
M. B. Feeney is an army brat who finally settled down in Birmingham, UK with her other half, two kids and a dog. She often procrastinates by listening to music of all genres and trying to get ‘just one more paragraph’ written on whichever WIP is open; she is also a serious doodler and chocoholic. Writing has been her one true love ever since she could spell, and publishing is the final culmination of her hard work and ambition.
Her publishing career began with two novellas, and she currently has multiple projects under way, in the hopes that her portfolio of what have been described as “everyday love stories for everyday people” will continue to grow. Always having something on the go can often lead to block which eventually gets dissolved by good music and an even better book.
Her main reason for writing is to not only give her readers enjoyment, but also to create a story and characters that stay with readers long after the book is finished, and possibly make someone stop and think “what if . . . ”
Find M. B. Feeney at the following . . .