Tuesday, November 6, 2018

Release Blitz: Good Time by Jana Aston

Good Time by Jana Aston
Release Date: November 6th
Cover Designer: RBA Designs/Romantic Book Affairs

There’s one thing you should know.
I wasn’t that drunk.
I was more than sober enough to put a stop to it.
The truth is, it was my idea. I’m the one who suggested it.
I knew it was crazy, but it’s not as if I’d be the first girl to get married on a whim in Las Vegas. I wouldn’t even be the last girl to get married on a whim in Las Vegas.
So what’s my excuse? I liked him. I liked the idea that he’d be stuck with me, just for a little bit.
Because nothing good ever lasts, so you might as well have a good time while you can.
GOOD TIME is a standalone romantic comedy set in the same world as Good Girl.
This is Payton & Vince's story.

4.5 Stars
Review by Lisa Kane

I loved Rhys and Lydia's story in Good Girl, but kept wondering just what the hell happened between her best friend Payton and Vince, the strip club owner.

Payton Tanner is a bit wild and has absolutely no filter when it comes to speaking her mind. She and Lydia are working in Vegas; Lydia in human resources, Payton in event planning. Lydia is confused by her boss, Rhys. It seems like he likes her, but he keeps putting the brakes on anything happening between them. She comes up with a crazy scheme to auction off her virginity at a strip club, but the only invite going out will be to Rhys.

That's how these two would be Lucy and Ethel's end up at Double Diamonds Gentlemen's club. They're shown in to meet with Vince Rossi. Turns out Payton saw Vince at the hotel she works at-more like she gawked at his wicked hotness. Vince is less than impressed with this harebrained idea. Lydia isn't going to back down from her plan and Payton is just content to be in the same room as Vince.

I'm never wearing this top again. The man makes a living running an establishment with topless women and he can't even be bothered to check out my rack? 

Payton has definitely met her match! Vince is one cool cookie and doesn't even bother to pretend not to be confused by Payton's ramblings.

"Do you have multiple girlfriends?" I ask. 
"Excuse me?" Vince's expression barely changes, like at all. He focuses on me, head tilted a fraction in my direction, but I know he heard me. It's not even that weird of a question considering where we are.

But Payton's craziness is infectious and Vince ends up spending a drunken, wild night with her. So wild that on a dare they ended up married to each other. Peyton wakes up just knowing Vince is going to have enormous regret about the two of them being married, so she makes the first move to leave. Vince is not one to hide away from and it doesn't take him long to track her down. He might be there to talk about things getting out of control, but then they end up talking and laughing and one night together leads to lots of nights.

"Condoms," he announces, pulling them from my bag like a gaggle of clowns piling out of a tiny car. 

The more they get to know each other, the more they realize that maybe getting married wasn't the craziest thing that could have happened. But like any great love story, there's gonna be an anvil that's going to drop right on top of our loveable Payton.

I'm embarrassed. So embarrassed that he doesn't feel the way I feel, because that's what it boils down to, doesn't it? 

Oh, Vince how could you? There's an explanation, right? There's a reason this is happening? You aren't just another douche are you?

They say love conquers all, but that's a lie. Love fucks up all the time. I've seen firsthand how much love cannot conquer.
Love is an asshole.

There's a lot to Vince that Payton doesn't know. For once, can she not jump to conclusions and sabotage the best thing that just might be happening to her?

She was such a contradiction. Confident with a hint of insecurity. Aggressive with a dash of adorable. Crazy with a silver lining that was all heart.  

He thinks I’m funny. And exasperating. And bossy. And beautiful, he said that I was beautiful.
It’s not the worst start in the history of starts, but I’d like to know more.
I pull out a stool and sit down at the island countertop so I can watch Vince work. It occurs to me once again what a shit wife I am. I don’t cook. I don’t give blow jobs. I haven’t asked if he needs anything dropped off at the dry cleaner. I don’t wear sexy lingerie. Maybe I should change? To be fair, the blow job thing is not my fault. I did offer that first night. I meant to yesterday but he distracted me with his tongue and that was that. Gah, I’m just the worst.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Giving you a blow job.”
“Yeah?” Vince responds easily, as if we’re talking about where the cutting board is. “Do you have a list of specific requirements for how you’d want that to happen?”
So he’s open to the idea, is what I’m hearing. Maybe he’ll want to date after the annulment and he’ll fall in love with me? It’ll make a great story for our grandchildren.
“You say that like I’m demanding.”
“You are.”
“I’m extremely easy-going! Everyone says so!” No one says that, actually. But it’s probably just because it’s never come up. It’s not as if I go around asking people if they think I’m easy-going, but if I did, they’d say yes. Probably. At least everyone except Vince would.
“You have a very easy-going way of getting your own way,” Vince states as he sets a pot of water on the stove to boil.
I suppose I can see where he might think that. That might even be a fair assessment.
I’m really self-aware. I need to add that to my list of positive attributes.
“So for the blow job, can I tie you up?”
“No.” The answer is firm, his lips twitching like the question was amusing.
Humph. “Can you tie me up?”
“How are you going to give me a blow job if you’re tied up?”
Dammit! Worst. Wife. Ever. “I suppose without my hands it’d be more like you using my mouth to masturbate while I did nothing, wouldn’t it?”
“What a visual you paint, Payton.”
“You’re still welcome to tie me up though. It doesn’t have to be tradesies.”
“Tradesies,” he mutters with a shake of his head, but he’s smiling as he uncorks the wine and pours two glasses.
“So, where do you see yourself in five years, Vince?” Might as well dive in with the talking.
He looks up from rolling back his shirt sleeves, a look of confusion flashing across his face replaced with an amused narrowing of his eyes.
“Excuse me? Is this an interview?” He laughs, placing a pan on my stovetop before rummaging through my cabinets for a bottle of olive oil.
“This is serious. You’ll be old and divorced. Think about that.”
“An annulment doesn’t count as a divorce. It doesn’t count as anything.”
“Try telling that to Britney. She’s gonna have that nineteen-hour marriage on her Wikipedia page until she dies. Wikipedia, Vince. That’s forever.”
“Okay, whoa. Let’s step back a moment here.”
“Do you need a wife with benefits?” I press on, because taking a step back doesn’t sound like it will get me anywhere.
“What exactly does that mean?”
“I have health insurance. Do you need health insurance? I could add you to my plan. It’s very reasonable, adding a spouse only costs like an extra two hundred dollars a month. It’s a really good plan, too. At least that’s what Lydia told me and she works in Human Resources so she would know. I’m no benefits package expert.”
“That’s not what the term ‘with benefits’ means.”
“Listen, in this case I think it’s exactly what that means. Society is the one who turned the word ‘benefit’ into something dirty.”
“So there’d be no sex in this exchange?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course there’d be sex.”
“Did you just talk yourself into a circle?”
“Maybe.” Dammit.

Available Now!!
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/GoodTBN

About the Author
Jana Aston likes cats, big coffee cups and books about billionaires who deflower virgins. She wrote her debut novel while fielding customer service calls about electrical bills, and she's ever grateful for the fictional gynecologist in Wrong that readers embraced so much she was able to make working in her pajamas a reality. Jana’s novels have appeared on the NYT, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestseller lists, some multiple times. She likes multiples.

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