Common Sense Doesn't Become Me
Read Common Sense Doesn't Become Me Online
Authors: CJ Hawk
Tags: #chick lit romance womens fiction contemporary fiction chick lit general romance
Chick Lit. Adult Romance
Published at Smashwords.com and Copyright
2013 CJ Hawk
This eBook is licensed for your personal
enjoyment only and strictly fictional. All persons, places or
incidences are creative endeavors of the author and by no means are
any viewpoints in this book a perspective of the author's lifestyle
or opinions. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other
people without the author's permission. Lendable copies are the
exception. Cover and inserts may be used for editorial reviews.
Included at the end of this story are sample
chapters of three other ebooks available that are similar to this
story. All of the authors books sample chapters are available to
read online at her website. If you like this book, you will enjoy
the other samples included as well. This author writes first person
general audience romance, quirky mystery to mature adult
romance.
Chick Lit Romance of two characters in quirky
chaotic moments of foolish choices in the pursuit of finding
love.
Often in life, you are given choices. One
that is clear, concise, and common sense, the other one, well let's
call him TROUBLE for short. You are given these choices to make
your life easier as the happy caring gods are smiling down on you
thinking, you go girl, here you are, your two choices; we know you
will make the right one. Then the blue-sky turns an ominous steel
gray full of thunderclouds and lightning begins to strike;
gale-force winds begin to blow as you make the wrong choice. It's
not like you saw all the warning signs. Blue sky to dark.
Lightning. Gail force winds. But hey, if you always made the right
choices, life would be one very boring highway. Doing what becomes
oneself, doesn't always make common sense, but it sure makes life
fun.
What does Amber Jones do when a man who seems
perfect comes along just when she is making one mistake after
another? Perfection is the farthest thing from Amber Jones horizon.
Sure, she has a great job, hair that is manageable and a closet
that she could brag about at a fraction of its cost, what more
could a woman want? A lot! What she does not have, at the almost
ripe age of thirty, is a plan to set the next thirty years in
motion without all the continuing chaos or drama that she likes to
entertain her family and best friend Marion with, but that's about
to change.
With all intensive purpose of growing up and
making something out of her life, Amber has diligently supplied
herself with one of her famous 'plan of action' lists. She wants to
take college courses to please her mom, without quitting her great
job with benefits. She would like her boyfriend to take things just
a bit more serious, and perhaps do some mature activities like
volunteer work, versus spending her entire Sunday watching movie
marathons after spending the entire Saturday night embarrassing
herself at a karaoke bar.
All it took was one night, one very crazy
chaotic drunken night on her part, to turn everything around.
Depending on if, she is heading in the right direction when it all
settles is up to Amber and her grown-up decisions, or does she find
a way to muck it up again?
Table Of Contents
Sample Chapters of Something To Talk
About
Sample Chapters Of Now Why'd You Have To Go And Do A Thing
Like That
Sample Chapters Of Time To Put Your Boots On
Girl
Chapter One
"It's my birthday and I'll
cry if I want to, cry if I want to. You would cry too if it
happened to you." Ok, it's not my official birthday yet, but the
one time I plan my own birthday party; one very bad thing made
everything else go horribly wrong. As I lay here singing that song
out loud repeatedly with just the one verse mesmerized in my head,
I felt the whole thing rehash in my mind like a hamster on a
running wheel as I tried to determine where I went wrong. What made
me think that I was capable of even making good choices? How the
heck did I end up here? Drunk, naked in my bed, drooling into my
pillow?
I had cried alone to myself for hours
thinking about everything that just happened. Wondering why I make
such foolish decisions that lead me down a path of either shame or
sorrow. How did I, Amber Jones, five foot six, one forty wet, green
eyes and brown hair with recent highlights, get to be who I am at
this very moment, one extremely depressed sad birthday girl?
Just twelve hours ago, I was getting ready to
head out and meet my family, my best friend Marion and her husband
Carl, along with my kind-of new boyfriend Steve, at an
up-and-coming Italian restaurant down on Seventeenth.
My mom had made the reservations for twelve
people, but the place usually only sat four or six tops, so they
made us pay an extra hundred for the backroom held for large
parties. I only turn thirty once and told her to go ahead, and I
would pay for it. Besides, maybe Steve would be impressed with the
restaurant party room, and my new dress that I had just bought -
dark blue, clingy, cocktail of a number with matching heels. Not to
mention, the two hours working on my hair into an updo and
perfectly styled makeup. I felt like I looked hot and desirable,
which may have something to do with Steve and our recent steamy sex
life.
I was looking forward to a great night of
birthday wishes, fun chitchat, and then ending it with a very, very
romantic night with Steve. Since, up until now, it was quickies
during lunch at the motel down the street from my work every
Wednesday, and early Sunday mornings at my place. He claimed his
job 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 our
night. Even though, it had to be at my place because his apartment
was being fumigated for bugs since an old lady neighbor died and
was not found for too many, too ripe, days later. Just that
mention, and I had no desire to sleep over at his place any ways. I
had a feeling if I ever did, every time I walked by his neighbor's
apartment, I would be completely slammed with sorrow and depression
over how his neighbor died.
Looking back, my night started with a
euphoric high of self-confidence and positive outlook. Somehow
though, the night went horrible wrong. Where should I start? I
arrived looking glamorous and feeling like a model, fifteen minutes
early. I was greeted by my father Hal, who had already been on
drink number four and was slamming it back, all because of my
mother. She was riding his ass about something new that she found a
thrill in riding his ass about. This is why my father drank, not to
my approval, but I could somehow see why he did.
I grabbed my own shot of whiskey from the
bar, slammed it back, and then I proceeded to walk confidently to
the party room where my party was to be held. I was promptly
overwhelmed with the birthday balloons and dangling ribbons all
around. It looked like a toddler birthday party decorations
exploded everywhere. Big bold numbers three and zero were all over
the place. Matching colored sparkly tabletop decorations were
placed along the twenty-foot table that they were sitting us at,
not to mention the confetti that was made of glittery metal punches
were strewn all across the table. Any other birthday that was not
meant to impress my new boyfriend, and I might have thought, ok
this is cute, but this is my big three oh and I want some semblance
of adulthood to be represented here tonight. If I could have looked
forward five hours, I could see how that was not going to be
humanly 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. You
need to go change?" That was my mother's tone. It felt as if she
was always criticizing or degrading my clothing attire. What I had
on was perfect for this party, right up until the moment, she
opened her judgmental mouth.
"I am dressed mother." I replied in a soft
even tone, but my mental voice was screaming back. 'I look
incredible Harriet so just shut it would you.' Harriet would be the
name 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 her
name out loud, she knew I was mad. Today, I was not going to let
her get to me and say her name aloud.
"Oh. All right. I guess if that is what you
have chosen to wear. I thought maybe you had some THING before
this, and that you might want to change into a more family
appropriate attire before the rest of the family gets here." Her
voice was sappy sweet and rather suggestive yet disapproving of my
attire.
I did not have a chance to snap a rebuttal
back as my younger sister Bethany, the perfect one, came into the
room like a floating angel, in an off-white classic tailored
professional dress, her dyed blonde hair in a perfect up-twist and
her green eyes sparkling with a hint of peppy pills; I knew my
sister 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 as
if I was floating on air while thinking about it.
"I see. Mom, here's the tape but really I
think we have done enough. Don't you sis?" Bethany was on one of
her typical missions, pleasing my mom, and nothing could distract
her. I guess I should be thankful that she steps in those shoes
that I know I could never possibly wear for my mother.
"Too much if you ask me." My tone snapped out
a bit too snarky, but I wanted the night to be elegant and
sophisticated not toddler time with dressing insults. Would it kill
my mother, just for once, to say, 'my dear you look lovely - who
did your hair? It is stunning.' I might be doing a mental reach
here; however, it was what I wanted to hear versus what I always
got. Therefore, my tone reached everyone's ears before I had a
chance to reign in the anger. I should know I had turned on deaf
ears.
My mother completely ignored me and turned to
my sister, looped her arm in my sisters, turned her to look at the
mass of decorations and leaned her body into hers. "Well if you
think so, I'll stop, but I just thought it might help liven the
mood since your sister only turns thirty once, and I haven't been
able to throw her a graduation party for college like we did for
you sweetheart. Not to mention the fact that you just got that huge
promotion and was made manager."
I got it. I did. I got every slick tongue dig
my mother tossed out there. I grew up with this, and I wanted to
shout out that my sister was addicted to speed and sleeping pills,
not to mention she jumped Redbull's revenues up a percentage all by
herself. However, I have never once, called out my sister's flaws
to deviate from mine. I don't think my mother would have accepted
them any ways. Superhuman Sis could keep my mother's attention; I
was never on the happy reciprocating end of it any ways... no
matter how hard I tried.
I turned on my heels and headed back to the
bar, only to find my best friend Marion and her husband Carl
ordering a drink for themselves and my dad. Marion and my dad had
always gotten along. They were my joint force in dealing with the
rest of my crazy family. Carl? Well, he loved Marion, but he also
tolerated all of this only twice a year, my birthday and the family
summer barbeque that Marion always insisted he attend with her. The
rest of the time, Carl would claim he had to be out of town or
Marion would say he was golfing with a client.