Ambre Perkins Novels & Stories

Emily Warner, the crazy and happy go lucky side-chick in all of the stories. She is happy that all of her friends met the man of their dreams but she hasn’t. She has never met a man who even remotely loved her. As a kid, she always hoped for a crazy life story like beauty and the beast or toy story or finding nemo. But she worked at a nine to five job, at the age of twenty nine, she was single, while all of her friends were either getting married or pregnant. And there she was sitting in front of the television, eating chips out of her hair.

[note to QI: above line says perfume too, so I kept this neutral/vague by changing to liquid] She then glared at me and asked, "Did you tamper with the perfume, Helena?" I shrugged my shoulders, looking completely innocent. "What on earth are you talking about? Why don't I understand what you're getting at, Queenie? Is it possible that your perfume has simply gone bad?" Queenie asked through gritted teeth, "Didn't you realize that the person who uses this perfume can't actually smell it? How did the perfume I gave you end up on my vanity, Helena?"

Juanita placed both hands on her hips and her D-cup boobs shook as she spoke. I clenched my teeth before giving her a reply. “Of course not, Juanita.” My name was Amber, but she intentionally mispronounced it as Amberly. Some people are lucky to have bosses that give them peace of mind. But mine? She was always looking for a way to call me out and piss me off.

There was a plate attached to it with the words Supervisor carved on it in bold letters. Getting to it, I tapped lightly. A deep voice replied from the inside telling me to go in. I opened the door to see a man behind a desk. He was wearing a grey suit. His skin was a light chocolate and he was spotting a low cut. A wide line of perfectly shaped beards framed his jaw. When he raised his head, his lips were a light pink. It didn't take time to know he's a black. A very good looking one at that. "Good morning. I'm Kristen Morgan. I applied for an internship here and was accepted".

she answered getting up, "Besides, it's spring, you can use them without roasting like a chicken, you have beautiful legs and they look very long even with your short height, a loose top and you will be pure dynamite." She gave me a greenish top and I was about to put it on when she stopped me in horror. “Please tell me what I see is not a sports bra, because I will kill the person who bought it.” "Well, Alex told me...” "Alex is a fucking hypocrite,” she interrupted, "Fortunately for you and unfortunately for him, they brought me a section of lustful and scarcely woven underwear from La Perla." “Oh, Alex took me there on Monday, but he pulled me out when I asked about a strange piece of clo

“ Your crying again “ He whispered and I couldn’t help the chuckle as I slowly took a step back, I tried to rub away my tears but they just kept falling, I couldn’t help but laugh. I wanted to ask God what I ever did to be given such a man and truly I am never letting go of this man even through death. If only they knew she was still holding tight to that promise, Brenda sat on the bench outside holding her hands tightly together as she slowly wondered if that God Amelia believed in would help her at this moment. Her body shook as that picture of broken and desperate Amelia she had seen earlier played in her mind like a love song.

I said, "I could keep you company sometimes." "You'll be late for school." he said and walked away. You won't be playing hard to get for too long. ** I saw Adam on my way to 5th period, he was standing at someone else's locker, the owner peeked out on the other side of the locker and I couldn't lie, she was pretty, way prettier than me, silky brown hair and hazel eyes, with full lips painted a nice rosy pink. She had on a black plaid skirt, a black hoodie and was wearing converse sneakers.

“Y-yes. Yes, sir. It— it was worn by Princess Amira of—” “—Phalenphaiae,” he finished for her, a smug smile on his lips. “One of a kind.” My jaw tightened. “You sure about that?” He looked at me, amused. “You seem skeptical, Miss Perkins.” “I’m observant,” I said, my tone sugarcoated with venom. The audience shifted, excitement buzzing like static. Someone whispered, “Is she challenging him?” Watterson chuckled softly. “Well, maybe your eyes deceive you tonight.”

As I set up my laptop to continue my task a slender hand with garish orange nail polish set a crystal tumbler filled to the right mark with what could only be expensive whisky in front of me. Tracing the hand up I met the scintillating yellow-brown eyes of Amber. She was dressed in the casual maroon polo shirt that was the uniform of all the workers at The House coupled with a bartender's apron over a skirt that showed the right amount of the caramel skin on her mile long legs. “Haven't seen you in a while stranger,” her cherry red lips tugged upward. “Been busy,” I mumbled and raised the glass for a sip of whisky.