Common sense doesn't become me

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Common Sense Doesn't Become Me

Chick Lit. Adult Romance

Published at and Copyright2013 CJ Hawk

This eBook is licensed for your personalenjoyment only and strictly fictional. All persons, places orincidences are creative endeavors of the author and by no means areany viewpoints in this book a perspective of the author's lifestyleor opinions. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to otherpeople without the author's permission. Lendable copies are theexception. Cover and inserts may be used for editorial reviews.

Included at the end of this story are samplechapters of three other ebooks available that are similar to thisstory. All of the authors books sample chapters are available toread online at her website. If you like this book, you will enjoythe other samples included as well. This author writes first persongeneral audience romance, quirky mystery to mature adultromance.

Chick Lit Romance of two characters in quirkychaotic moments of foolish choices in the pursuit of findinglove.

Often in life, you are given choices. Onethat is clear, concise, and common sense, the other one, well let'scall him TROUBLE for short. You are given these choices to makeyour life easier as the happy caring gods are smiling down on youthinking, you go girl, here you are, your two choices; we know youwill make the right one. Then the blue-sky turns an ominous steelgray full of thunderclouds and lightning begins to strike;gale-force winds begin to blow as you make the wrong choice. It'snot like you saw all the warning signs. Blue sky to dark.Lightning. Gail force winds. But hey, if you always made the rightchoices, life would be one very boring highway. Doing what becomesoneself, doesn't always make common sense, but it sure makes lifefun.

What does Amber Jones do when a man who seemsperfect comes along just when she is making one mistake afteranother? Perfection is the farthest thing from Amber Jones horizon.Sure, she has a great job, hair that is manageable and a closetthat she could brag about at a fraction of its cost, what morecould a woman want? A lot! What she does not have, at the almostripe age of thirty, is a plan to set the next thirty years inmotion without all the continuing chaos or drama that she likes toentertain her family and best friend Marion with, but that's aboutto change.

With all intensive purpose of growing up andmaking something out of her life, Amber has diligently suppliedherself with one of her famous 'plan of action' lists. She wants totake college courses to please her mom, without quitting her greatjob with benefits. She would like her boyfriend to take things justa bit more serious, and perhaps do some mature activities likevolunteer work, versus spending her entire Sunday watching moviemarathons after spending the entire Saturday night embarrassingherself at a karaoke bar.

All it took was one night, one very crazychaotic drunken night on her part, to turn everything around.Depending on if, she is heading in the right direction when it allsettles is up to Amber and her grown-up decisions, or does she finda way to muck it up again?

Table Of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Sample Chapters of Something To TalkAbout

Sample Chapters Of Now Why'd You Have To Go And Do A ThingLike That

Sample Chapters Of Time To Put Your Boots OnGirl

Chapter One

"It's my birthday and I'llcry if I want to, cry if I want to. You would cry too if ithappened to you." Ok, it's not my official birthday yet, but theone time I plan my own birthday party; one very bad thing madeeverything else go horribly wrong. As I lay here singing that songout loud repeatedly with just the one verse mesmerized in my head,I felt the whole thing rehash in my mind like a hamster on arunning wheel as I tried to determine where I went wrong. What mademe think that I was capable of even making good choices? How theheck did I end up here? Drunk, naked in my bed, drooling into mypillow?

I had cried alone to myself for hoursthinking about everything that just happened. Wondering why I makesuch foolish decisions that lead me down a path of either shame orsorrow. How did I, Amber Jones, five foot six, one forty wet, greeneyes and brown hair with recent highlights, get to be who I am atthis very moment, one extremely depressed sad birthday girl?

Just twelve hours ago, I was getting ready tohead out and meet my family, my best friend Marion and her husbandCarl, along with my kind-of new boyfriend Steve, at anup-and-coming Italian restaurant down on Seventeenth.

My mom had made the reservations for twelvepeople, but the place usually only sat four or six tops, so theymade us pay an extra hundred for the backroom held for largeparties. I only turn thirty once and told her to go ahead, and Iwould pay for it. Besides, maybe Steve would be impressed with therestaurant party room, and my new dress that I had just bought -dark blue, clingy, cocktail of a number with matching heels. Not tomention, the two hours working on my hair into an updo andperfectly styled makeup. I felt like I looked hot and desirable,which may have something to do with Steve and our recent steamy sexlife.

I was looking forward to a great night ofbirthday wishes, fun chitchat, and then ending it with a very, veryromantic night with Steve. Since, up until now, it was quickiesduring lunch at the motel down the street from my work everyWednesday, and early Sunday mornings at my place. He claimed hisjob as a security manager at the airport had him working off hours,and he had a sick sister he helped take care of.

He had guaranteed me that tonight, was ournight. Even though, it had to be at my place because his apartmentwas being fumigated for bugs since an old lady neighbor died andwas not found for too many, too ripe, days later. Just thatmention, and I had no desire to sleep over at his place any ways. Ihad a feeling if I ever did, every time I walked by his neighbor'sapartment, I would be completely slammed with sorrow and depressionover how his neighbor died.

Looking back, my night started with aeuphoric high of self-confidence and positive outlook. Somehowthough, the night went horrible wrong. Where should I start? Iarrived looking glamorous and feeling like a model, fifteen minutesearly. I was greeted by my father Hal, who had already been ondrink number four and was slamming it back, all because of mymother. She was riding his ass about something new that she found athrill in riding his ass about. This is why my father drank, not tomy approval, but I could somehow see why he did.

I grabbed my own shot of whiskey from thebar, slammed it back, and then I proceeded to walk confidently tothe party room where my party was to be held. I was promptlyoverwhelmed with the birthday balloons and dangling ribbons allaround. It looked like a toddler birthday party decorationsexploded everywhere. Big bold numbers three and zero were all overthe place. Matching colored sparkly tabletop decorations wereplaced along the twenty-foot table that they were sitting us at,not to mention the confetti that was made of glittery metal puncheswere strewn all across the table. Any other birthday that was notmeant to impress my new boyfriend, and I might have thought, okthis is cute, but this is my big three oh and I want some semblanceof adulthood to be represented here tonight. If I could have lookedforward five hours, I could see how that was not going to behumanly possible on my part.

"Oh there you are." My mother screamed out."Hurry up. The rest of the family is going to be here soon. Youneed to go change?" That was my mother's tone. It felt as if shewas always criticizing or degrading my clothing attire. What I hadon was perfect for this party, right up until the moment, sheopened her judgmental mouth.

"I am dressed mother." I replied in a softeven tone, but my mental voice was screaming back. 'I lookincredible Harriet so just shut it would you.' Harriet would be thename my mother was called whenever I was mad. More often than not,I said her name internally, but when I did speak up and voiced hername out loud, she knew I was mad. Today, I was not going to lether get to me and say her name aloud.

"Oh. All right. I guess if that is what youhave chosen to wear. I thought maybe you had some THING beforethis, and that you might want to change into a more familyappropriate attire before the rest of the family gets here." Hervoice was sappy sweet and rather suggestive yet disapproving of myattire.

I did not have a chance to snap a rebuttalback as my younger sister Bethany, the perfect one, came into theroom like a floating angel, in an off-white classic tailoredprofessional dress, her dyed blonde hair in a perfect up-twist andher green eyes sparkling with a hint of peppy pills; I knew mysister well. "Mom. I got some more tape. Sis. Hey, you look nice.Got a hot date later?"

"Actually, he's coming tonight." I said it asif I was floating on air while thinking about it.

"I see. Mom, here's the tape but really Ithink we have done enough. Don't you sis?" Bethany was on one ofher typical missions, pleasing my mom, and nothing could distracther. I guess I should be thankful that she steps in those shoesthat I know I could never possibly wear for my mother.

"Too much if you ask me." My tone snapped outa bit too snarky, but I wanted the night to be elegant andsophisticated not toddler time with dressing insults. Would it killmy mother, just for once, to say, 'my dear you look lovely - whodid your hair? It is stunning.' I might be doing a mental reachhere; however, it was what I wanted to hear versus what I alwaysgot. Therefore, my tone reached everyone's ears before I had achance to reign in the anger. I should know I had turned on deafears.

My mother completely ignored me and turned tomy sister, looped her arm in my sisters, turned her to look at themass of decorations and leaned her body into hers. "Well if youthink so, I'll stop, but I just thought it might help liven themood since your sister only turns thirty once, and I haven't beenable to throw her a graduation party for college like we did foryou sweetheart. Not to mention the fact that you just got that hugepromotion and was made manager."

I got it. I did. I got every slick tongue digmy mother tossed out there. I grew up with this, and I wanted toshout out that my sister was addicted to speed and sleeping pills,not to mention she jumped Redbull's revenues up a percentage all byherself. However, I have never once, called out my sister's flawsto deviate from mine. I don't think my mother would have acceptedthem any ways. Superhuman Sis could keep my mother's attention; Iwas never on the happy reciprocating end of it any ways... nomatter how hard I tried.

I turned on my heels and headed back to thebar, only to find my best friend Marion and her husband Carlordering a drink for themselves and my dad. Marion and my dad hadalways gotten along. They were my joint force in dealing with therest of my crazy family. Carl? Well, he loved Marion, but he alsotolerated all of this only twice a year, my birthday and the familysummer barbeque that Marion always insisted he attend with her. Therest of the time, Carl would claim he had to be out of town orMarion would say he was golfing with a client.

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