OUT NOW ~Mexican Kimono ~ Billy Jones

Published September 11, 2014 by Michelle Dennis - Author


Samantha knows what she wants from life – and she’s got it!

1.A loving family. OK, her Mum’s plan to marry her off to the world’s most metrosexual man might not be ideal… but it’s only because she cares!

2.A great job. Or at least: a job that leaves plenty of time to update Twitter and shop for designer bargains online…

3.A credit card, with a very generous limit. So generous that she’s just spent over $10,000 on an antique kimono…

But suddenly Samantha’s charmed life starts to fall apart! From a hair-related fire to losing her job, Sam’s facing bad karma – and it all started when she bought that kimono…

Sure, it’s ridiculous. How could a piece of silk ever bring bad luck? But it can! Because, whether Samantha likes it or not, someone wants to teach her a lesson: it’s what’s inside that counts.

But will Samantha slow down long enough to listen?

Now A Small Bio For Billie Jones

About The Author

Billie Jones is a writer from Australia who enjoys imaging herself wrestling
killer crocodiles and swimming with great white sharks. She thinks she may have
to attempt base jumping so she can write about it and Bungee is on the list
too. You can find her either in front of her computer writing about her
fictional adventures or at the beach searching for the next perfect wave.




And The Extract….

5. The Hair Psychologist

I held my breath until I reached the taxi rank. Once I flagged an incoming taxi, I managed to relax and do a big old evil belly laugh. I pictured JJ finishing the bottle of chardonnay, ordering another perhaps even more expensive wine. He’d eat my main meal, then his. Then it would dawn on him. I was not coming back. He would have to leave his fake Prada sunglasses as collateral and make some frantic phone calls for cash to get out of there with any shred of dignity.

The taxi pulled up, and I jumped in without taking any notice of the driver’s details. I was too distracted picturing JJ’s handsome face trying to explain to Alberto why he couldn’t pay. Then, JJ takes Alberto’s soft manicured fingers in his strong warm hand, and convinces him he could pay in other ways. Alberto’s eyes light up and he kisses… eww, hang on. Damn it! That’s not the right fantasy. Bloody cheating bisexual men. It’s rife around here, I’m telling you.

I shook the image from my mind and glanced at the registration of the driver. I began to text it to my mum when a distinctive voice pipes up and says, “So, how was lunch, love?”

You’ve got to be friggin’ kidding me. Beer belly Bob. Of all the luck.

“I was left unsatisfied, if you must know, Bob.”

“Boy trouble, love?”

“You could say that.”

“What’s the trouble? He’s not a vegetarian too, is he?”

“Hmmm, I’m not sure how to answer that, Bob. I’ve heard lesbians described as vegetarians, so does the same apply to straight men that turn gay, then straight, then almost definitely gay again?”

“You’ve got me there, love. I have no idea. So, your boyfriend’s gay?”

“Yes. He’s gay and the only slot he is interested in is the one that swipes my credit card.”

Beer belly Bob looked slightly shocked, but managed to change the subject back to himself, like most good cabbies do. “So, I called my sheil – I mean Val – like I told you I was gonna. I’m all set to take her out to this Indian vego place tonight. I was thinking of buying her some flowers and maybe some chocolates.”


“Yeah. I thought I might get a hotel room, you know, with a spa. Get some of that non-alcoholic champagne she loves.”

Ew. Go away naked mental picture of Bob in the bath.

“Yeah, then I thought I’d surprise her and scatter rose petals all over the bed, you know, all romantic-like.”

“You’re very original, Bob. Did you think of that all by yourself?”

“No, love. I wish. Saw it on a movie.”

I just wanted to get home, but it’s the saint in me, I tell you. I had to, something literally forced me to. “Bob, what are you planning on wearing tonight?”

“Well, my birthday suit eventually,” cue disgusting bawdy laugh.

Another mental picture I’ll need erased by regression therapy.

“To the date, Bob. What are you planning on wearing on your date?”

“Oh, I’ll just chuck a shirt on over this one I think, love. Maybe spray on a bit of Old Spice.”

Aptly named. Old.

“Hmm. I was thinking, Bob, you really need a new look. You look like a truck driver that’s been on the road. For a few months. With sheep. Who have fleas.”

“A new look? Val likes me just as I am.”

“I bet she makes you take a shower before she kisses you. Am I right?”

He narrowed his bloodshot eyes at me.

“I bet she bought you a ‘special’ toothbrush just for her house. Am I right?”

“Well, yeah, but that’s only ‘cause…”

“I bet she came to your house only the once and has never been back. Am I right?”

He hung his head and said, “Yes. You’re right.”

It’s like I have a gift. I had to help him. For the sake of his poor girlfriend.

“Right, Bob. I’m very busy you know. Stop at these shops here. Bring your credit card and let’s go.”



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