It's My Birthday & I'll Do What I Want.

Tweet left me high and dry today for our interview. I got a voicemail saying how sorry she was, but her and Noah had some celebrating of their own to do. What happened to the heartfelt adage, "Chicks before di...?" Anywho...

A few days ago I started writing my third book!!!! That sounds crazy but it's true.  I want to thank everyone for making this possible. You've given me a new life and career. If you ever wonder whether or not you've had an impact on someone's life, the answer will always be yes. Each of you who have read my books, sent me notes, commented on my various social media pages have all impacted my life significantly.

Below is a little bit of an extremely rough, unedited, and subject to change draft of Presently Perfect, the third and final book of the Perfect series.

Presently Perfect

By

Alison G. Bailey

 Chapter 1

 

It’s was only noon but the temperature had already skyrocketed to heights almost unbearable to any living thing. The sun blazed down and I swear I heard my skin sizzle. I was sitting at the end of our pool, submerged in waist-deep water, trying to fight off the dog days of summer. I cupped my hands and plunged them into the cool water. Tilting my head back, I closed my eyes, raised my hands, and let the water rain down over my face. I raked my hands across my face wiping away any excess water. Before opening my eyes I heard a slight splash on the other side of the pool. My eyes squinted open. It took me several seconds to focus. I blinked in disbelief at what or rather who I saw.

            Tweet was standing on the first step at the other end of the pool in a red string bikini that barely covered her fun girl parts. Her hair fell down over her really soft looking shoulders. Her usually dark hair was a different color in the summertime. Streaks of lighter brown mixed through the darkness. I don’t know if she went somewhere to have that done on purpose or not. I didn’t care. All I knew was she looked hot no matter what her hair color was. I swallowed so hard I heard it thud in the back of my throat. Every part of my body froze except one. She began walking down the steps slowly—sexy smile hinted across her lips, her chin tucked slightly to her chest, and her gaze fixed on me through long dark lashes. The look in her teal eyes was intense. The weight on my chest was getting heavier the longer I stared at her. I watched as her shapely legs disappeared little by little into the water. Her boobs jiggled slightly with each movement. I loved when they did that. God, I wanted to touch her. She stopped at the last step. The water gently lapped against her skin at mid-thigh. I cleared my throat, wanting to say something, but nothing came out.

            Bending over slightly, she cupped her hands together, scooping up water and mimicked my movement from earlier. The coolness poured over her, wetting her hair and skin. I followed one large droplet as it slid down her neck, over her collarbone, and slipped between her boobs before vanishing into her bikini. My eyes shot up to meet hers. Raising one hand, she crooked her finger in my direction inviting me to come closer. At first I didn’t think I’d be able to move. I had had boners before but this was the granddaddy of all boners.

Now is not the time to think about old man boners. Not that there’s ever a time to think about old man boners. Stop thinking about old man boners. Hot Tweet, hot Tweet, concentrate on hot Tweet.

Adrenaline pumped through me at record speed, causing my entire body to vibrate from the inside out. As inconspicuously as possible, I lowered my hand into the water to adjust my rock hard business. I didn’t want Tweet to think I was a perv. Slowly I swam toward her, dunking my face in the water in hopes that it would calm me down before I lost complete control and attacked her. I emerged from the water hotter and more turned on because of her closeness. Our chests were only an inch a part, almost touching with our heavy breathing. My gaze connected with hers and I got disoriented for a minute, with no awareness of anything but the beautiful girl in front of me. I don’t know how long I stood there disappearing into her.

I sensed movement out the corner of my eye. Glancing away I caught the sight of Tweet’s fingers making their way toward the thin string of material draped over her shoulder, the only obstacle between me and paradise. It would take just one slight tug and my fantasy would be complete. She tilted her head to the side away from me, pushing her hair off her neck to reveal the bow that held her scrapes of material up. The edges of her pale pink lips curled up a little more as her fingers came together, the string resting between them. My gaze darted back and forth between her eyes and her hand a few times before the hand won out.

I watched as she pulled down, the string slowly untwisting from itself. I had to touch her now. The tingling sensation in my fingers was achingly painful. My breath was coming out in quick short spurts. Every part of my body throbbed. I leaned in toward her neck. My mouth slightly opened, tip of tongue sneaking between my lips, ready to taste her. Finally the string broke completely away and fell. I couldn’t wait to feel her nipples rub against my chest. I stepped in closer. The heat from her body radiated across my lips. She ran her fingernails down my chest and stomach, applying just the right amount of pressure to scratch the surface of my skin. Tweet’s hand slipped under the waistband of my swim trunks and continued to travel down. My heart was pounding so loudly I could hear the echo all around me. The breath caught in my lungs as her long fingers curled around my…

“Noah!” Pound. Pound. Pound. “Noah!”

My eyes shot open. I was disoriented for several seconds. I heard the knob to my bedroom door clicking back and forth and I knew I was in my room.

“Noah it’s time to get up. I have breakfast ready,” Mom’s muffled voice came through the door.

My chest caved in disappointment. Clearing my throat, trying to sound unaffected, I said, “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Are you okay? You sound funny.”

“I’m fine. I just woke up.”

As I heard her footsteps fade down the hall my eyes moved around the room. My comforter was hanging off the edge of the bed, my sheets and pillow case were soaked in sweat, and my dick was reaching for the sky. It was just a fucking dream.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Inside My Head

Today Alison and I are strolling along the brick path surrounding Waterfront Park in downtown Charleston. Looking out over the harbor, the sky is a mixture of blue and gray with a weak sun trying desperately to peek through the clouds. A cool breeze of sea mist brushes across my face. There's a stillness in the air. We are almost alone except for an occasional passerby. Alison seems deep in thought today, not her usual chatty self. I'm concerned that something is wrong.
Tweet: Everything okay?
Alison: (nodding her head, she gives me a slight smile). Mmm...hmm.
Tweet: This is going to be a very short Q&A if you're going to answer via guttural noises. (I smile. She knows I'm just teasing her.)
Alison: Sorry. I've got a lot on my mind.
Tweet: Now I'm curious. What's got you all up in your head?
        We approach the huge pineapple fountain, water spurting from the top, and sit.
Alison: Well, for one thing my next book. Scenes and dialogue keep popping into my head, but I haven't written any of it down. The thing about writing is, it's hard to turn it off. You don't just write while sitting in front of a computer screen. I'm always writing in my head. It's very consuming for me. Also, I have a special project in the works for Present Perfect and Past Imperfect that's occupying my time along with the continued promoting and business aspect of writing. I'm not a multi-tasker, so sometimes it's overwhelming.
Tweet: Being a writer isn't just something you do, it's who you are. You started writing Present Perfect January 2013. You've got two books completed and a third just beginning. Have your goals changed since starting this new career?
Alison:  The goals for my books haven't really changed. I want to write stories that impact the reader. I want them to feel the emotions of the characters, get invested in the lives of the characters, and learn something from the characters. I want to continue to choose subject matters that are unique, shine a light on situations that people need to be aware of.
      My career goals have certainly changed. When my first book was released I didn't even think in terms of this being a career. I figured if I had one story in me then so be it. At some point between Present Perfect being out and Past Imperfect being written I started to look at this as a viable career. Reading it such a personal thing and I've been given the opportunity to reach people in that way. Do I care about numbers? Sure, to a certain degree. There is a business aspect to writing, but the numbers aren't the end all be all. I want to inspire others to go after their dreams no matter the situation. I had help getting to this point in my career, it's my job to pass that help along to another. I'm not trying to be better than the next person. I'm just trying to be better than I was yesterday.
    Alison turns her gaze toward the harbor. By the look on her face there is no doubt that the scenes and dialogue for book 3 have started swirling around her head once again.

"Thank you and goodbye".

It’s a gorgeous day in Charleston. The sun is out and the temp is a sweet 75 degrees. Alison and I decided to meet at her home today for our little chat. I find her sitting at the pool enjoying the spring like weather.  She doesn’t notice me approaching. Her head is down and her focus intense. As I walk up I clear my throat a couple of times trying to get her attention.

Tweet: Helllooooo.

Alison (startled): Oh hi. Sorry I didn’t hear you come up.

I pull a chair over to the table she’s at and sit.

Tweet: Whatcha got going on there?

              I tilt my chin toward her lap.

Alison: It’s my new Kindle Paperwhite. I lurve it!

              She holds the ereader up proudly and smiles.

Tweet: What book has your undivided attention today?

Alison: The Sweet Gum Tree. It’s really good so far. It starts off with the two main characters, Alix and Nick as children.

Tweet: I always love stories like that.

              We exchange big grins.

            So, are you ready for today’s question?

Alison: Shoot.

Tweet: There are a lot of quotable lines in both Present Perfect and Past Imperfect. One of the lines that gets quoted a lot is, “Everyone deserves a thank you and goodbye.” Where did the idea of that line come from?

Alison: That line is directly related to my father, Dreher Gaskin. It’s unfortunate that when we have great parents that we don’t always fully appreciate them until we are adults. I was very blessed to have parents who were my parents while I grew up. Later on they became my friends, but as a kid they were strictly my parents.

              My dad was a big guy, standing 6’4. He played football in high school as well as in college and was drafted by the Detroit Lions. I always looked up to him. No matter how old I got I looked to him as the one person who had all the smart answers. He was honest, reliable, funny, and loved his family more than anything. I always felt bad for him. Here he was this big athlete and he ended up having two girls. It never bothered him, though. My sister ran track and played basketball, so he did have an athlete in the family, just not a football player.

              I, on the other hand, was as un-athletic as you could get, but my dad still found ways for us to spend time together. We would go fishing and during the holidays he’d take me to the local Christmas parade. He wasn’t a huge fan of the holidays, so the fact that he endured a parade speaks volumes. One of my best memories of him was when I got sick and had to have blood transfusions, which took all day and was extremely boring. He would always take me to the Dairy Queen for supper. Back in the 70’s people didn’t go out to eat like they do now, so it was an extra special treat. We went there so many times during one holiday season that I collected eight Santa glasses that I still have today. These are real glass glasses with Santa painted on them. I’m sure the paint used was loaded with lead, but back then lead was good for you. Ha-ha.

When I was diagnosed with aplastic anemia and my parents found out the bone marrow transplant was the only hope, my dad moved the family to Seattle. The Fred Hutchinson Medical Center was one of only 3 places they were performing the BMT on people. One of the main physicians was at The Hutch, so that’s where we went. My dad was out there with me, my mom, and sister for as long as possible before he had to return to Charleston and his job. I don’t know how many trips across country he made during the 4 months we were out there, but there were a lot. That was my dad, though. He’d do anything for his family. We were never a family who went around saying “I love you” all the time, but I always felt the love through actions.

In Jan 2011 my dad got sick. He was in the hospital for three and a half months before he passed away. Me, my mom, and sister were with him every day and into the night. During those three months I connected with my dad more than any other time in my life. See, I knew how to be a patient. I had had a lot of practice during my life. I was never as proud of my dad as I was while he was sick. His strength and humor was incredible.

On April 11 at 9:30 am, my mom and I were just pulling into the hospital parking lot when the call came that daddy was having trouble breathing. Now we had gotten this call on four other occasions and he pulled through. By the time we reached his room he had passed away. I never got a chance to say the words “thank you and goodbye”. He knew how much we all loved him through our actions, but still not saying those words haunted me for a long time.  Somehow I ended up being the one who wrote his obituary. There was a lot of talk about including his sports career—his college football records, being inducted into the South Carolina and Clemson Sports Hall of Fame. I, of course, included his sports accomplishments, but he was so much more than that. I wanted people to know the man, the father, and the grandfather he was. It was my chance to give him his “thank you and goodbye”.

 

 

My dad, Clemson 1953

 

My wedding 1995

 

 

And the answer is...

Butterflies are swirling around inside my stomach as I enter the Sweetwater Café in downtown Charleston. I’m so excited to see her and to start our new project. I spot her immediately sitting in a booth all the way in the back of the tiny café with a pitcher of dark fizzy liquid, Diet Pepsi, and a piece of chocolate cake. I linger at the door for a few seconds and watch as she pokes the fork into the top of the cake drawing back a sizable amount of frosting. She pops it quickly into her mouth, no doubt trying to hide the fact that she’s eating her cake like a 4 year old, frosting first.

              As I approach, the corners of her mouth curl up and her eyes slant as a huge smile appears.

Tweet: Hey Alison!

Alison: Hey girlie! How are you?

Tweet: I’m fantastic. How about you?

Alison: I got Diet Pepsi and cake…what could be better?

Tweet: Point taken. Thank you again for letting me interview you.

Alison: You’re more than welcome. I hope folks won’t find me too boring.

Tweet: Oh I’ll make you sound interesting.

              We exchang quick smirks. The waitress walks over and places an empty glass in front of me. Alison graciously, albeit reluctantly, pours some of her liquid gold from the frosty pitcher. I take out my notepad and pen, kicking it old school, and begin the interview.

Tweet: So, I figured since March was our birthday month, we would spend each Saturday getting to know you a little better.

Alison: Sounds good.

Tweet: I’ll be asking you one question each week because let’s face it, people are interested in you just not that interested.

Alison: Smartass.

Tweet: I do my best. Okay, let’s get started. The question this week is…

              It says in your bio that as a child you used to make up additional scenes in your head to TV shows and movies. Why did you start doing that, was it something that just came naturally?

Alison: I guess in a way it came naturally. When I was 7 years old I was diagnosed with the blood disease aplastic anemia. Basically, my bone marrow had stopped working, no longer producing red blood cells. For a year the only treatments available were to put me on steroids and have blood transfusions when my counts got down low. My immune system was pretty nonexistent. Running around playing with other kids the risk of getting cut or bruised was a big concern of my doctor. Seeing as how my body wasn’t producing red blood cells I couldn’t afford losing even the smallest amount of blood. Not to mention the risk of catching something even as minor as the sniffles could have landed me in the hospital. Plus, the steroids caused me to puff up like a balloon, which was uncomfortable and awkward. As a kid you just want to blend in and be like everyone else, be accepted.

              I had one friend, Beth, who was allowed to come over to my house and we played like any 7 year old girls did, but TV was certainly a constant companion. My favorite show at that time was the Bionic Woman. I loved her. I know a lot of people leaned toward Wonder Woman, mostly guys. Let’s face it, the only reason they liked Wonder Woman was because of the outfit. Guys couldn’t have cared less about her superhero powers. What I loved about Jamie Summers, The Bionic Woman, was the fact that she was a pretty lady, wearing regular clothes who could kick anyone’s ass. She didn’t need gold bracelets or a magic lasso. So, I started coming up with extended scenes with me playing The Bionic Woman. I also watched Happy Days and cast myself in the role of Pinky Tuscadero when I went through my Fonzie stage.

 

 

Pinky & The Fonz

            At 8 years old my parents found out a few medical centers in the country were starting to perform bone marrow transplants on people. It was still in the experimental stage but, I found out much later in life, it was my only chance of surviving. My sister was the closest match for me and became my donor. The aplastic anemia was cured, but I continued to have a lot of health issues, having partial rejection of the transplant. I had to remain fairly isolated due to the danger of infection. TV remained my best friend. As I got older I watched shows like All In The Family, The Odd Couple, and MASH. I started paying attention to the smart, clever, and funny dialogue and how it could be intertwined with compelling stories. This is probably why my books are heavy on dialogue. It’s my most favorite thing to write.

Tweet: So something great can come from watching too much TV.

Alison: Absolutely.

Tweet: Thank you Alison for sharing a part of you today. I can’t wait to get together again next week.

Alison: My pleasure. I do have one question for you, Tweet. Is Noah as good as I imagine him to be?

              I lean in toward the table sporting a huge grin.

Tweet: He’s even better.

Alison: Wamfu.