The Novelist
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Aspiring Novelist Pt. 02 free porn video
That first night during dinner her mom, tears flowing, handed newly graduated Billie Summers, MA, a check for $30,000, being a return of Billie’s big advance payment for her first novel.
That return of money reminded Billie of the big gamble Sam Sorensen had taken on her in over-spending on a new author’s advance but happily that investment had been returned several times over by that one novel.
Her father, voice sounding thick, spoke about Billie performing such a huge gesture by stumping up with that money just when he and her mother had been talking about throwing in the towel. He then handed her a check for $20,000 saying it was part of her eventual inheritance being paid well in advance for being such a loyal daughter.
On the advice of an investment adviser, who was the father of one of her friends, Billie placed that $50,000 in an offshore oil exploration company.
At the end of an unsuccessful search for employment, Billie was approached by the librarian at a high school and was hired. She was happy because books were her thing. A couple of months later during ‘Library Week’ the school hosted celebrated author Celeste B. Bush as guest speaker at a parents’ and public lunch in the gymnasium. The hall was packed because this famous Texan was well known for her novels about American pioneering women of the 1800s.
Billie was asked to drive Miss Bush back to the airport and stayed talking to her waiting for the late-arriving aircraft. Out of interest Billie said, ‘I’ve noticed the thumbnail bio about you on your books and on your publisher’s web site it begins at your college years. What about…’
‘Oh you’ve picked up my books to glance at have you?’
‘I’ve read seven and really liked ‘Chase O’Hara, Rancher.’ She was depicted as being lean and strong, with a hairy upper lip but was attracted men was her flaming red hair.’
‘Omigod darling, and how long ago was it you read Chase O’Hara?’
‘When I was an impressionable seventeen.’
‘Oh god, please give me your memory, it’s fabulous!’
‘Well not for the moment. I noticed you skipped over my question about your childhood.’
‘Ah. Would you believe I spent it in an orphanage until I was fifteen when I was rescued by Alvin and Vivian Bush, a childless couple in their forties who owned and operated a book store in a small city well east of here.’
‘Omigod.’
‘It’s nothing to be proud of dear.’
‘Why not? Can’t you see it’s a Cinderella story and that couple, are they still alive?’
‘Yes, I see them regularly. They are very old.’
‘Can they still read?’
‘Yes… I know a woman of 100 who reads every day. Why are you so interested?’
‘Damn here comes your airplane. Please give me your card and I’ll email you.’
‘I don’t use email.’
‘Then I’ll write a letter. Just get used to the idea I wish to write a novel based on your childhood.’
‘Fact-fiction?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well I really don’t know…’
‘Listen to me Miss Bush…’
‘Actually my real name is Mrs Acland, although that is not generally known. I married late and by then my readers had become used to me being a spinster.’
‘W-why did you choose to marry late?’
‘I’d rather not say.’
‘Because you didn’t wish to risk leaving a child or children who might end up in a foster home?’
‘My god young woman, you have some sort of exceptional talent. Yes that was the reason.’
‘May I attempt to write your biography? I’ve had two novels published and have a Master’s in lit from Penn.’
‘Really, how interesting. But I must tell you I’ve always refused approaches from journalists wishing to pry.’
‘Think about this Miss Bush. Why did I ask could Alvin and Vivian Bush still read? They are your real hero and heroine, not those fictitious people you write about. For god sake Miss Bush, take that final step out of your binding past. Goodbye. It’s been a honor to meet you.’
Passengers were being called to prepare for boarding. Miss Bush called out, ‘Oh Billie… you forgot my card.’
She was holding it out as Billie returned grinning. ‘I apologize for being theatrical. I had no intention of leaving you until you were actually boarding. I pretended to walk off to trigger the response I wanted.’
‘Well you are a very bright young woman. Now don’t be too long writing, do you hear.’
‘No ma’am.’
‘Please stop groveling and call me Celeste.’
CHAPTER 3
The biography of Celeste B. Bush, ‘From the Orphanage’ and published in New York by Sam Sorenson’s company of which he was now the CEO. The launch was held in the Houston Galleria where the special guests to capture media attention where Celeste and her foster parents, Alvin and Vivian Bush and Billie Summers, the biographer.
It was a gala event with a big build-up and Billie was well aware her time had come. The pre-release critiques acclaimed her in many ways including, ‘one of America’s best emerging authors’ and ‘a quirky and smart-minded new author who’s freshness and frankness will brighten the leisure time of readers’.
But the knockout punch came the evening before Billie and her mother went to Houston. They were watching a book show on TV ending when Micki Rogers smiled at her male co-host and asked, ‘And the book you glanced at this week Alfie that rang your bell?’
‘I meant only to glance at it but ended up reading it through the night. It was so captivating.’
‘Oh naughty boy. That’s not like you. What’s the book?’
‘The biography of one of our favorite authors Celeste B. Bush.’
‘Omigod that’s ‘From the Orphanage’ by Billie Summers. I’m being rushed to Houston to interview that talented kid live tomorrow night with Celeste. I’m told it’s crammed with things we haven’t known about Celeste despite her fame. Well good night everyone. Be watching this network tomorrow at 6:30 when I’ll be in cow country interviewing Celeste and Billie the kid. Author Billie Summers is not yet twenty-five.’
‘Omigod,’ Janice said, fanning her flushing face. ‘All of that was on network TV with millions of people watching.’
‘Mom please, that was scripted as a promo for tomorrow evening. Don’t get too excited.’
‘Scripted or not, Micki Rogers has integrity and won’t say anything she doesn’t believe.’
‘Okay mom, you’re probably right. Anyway most viewers won’t have any idea about promos and scripting… if Sam saw that he’ll be rubbing his hands in glee.’
* * *
The floor manager tried to send in Celeste first but Celeste thwarted him by grabbling Billie by the arm and marching in with her. Celeste was dressed as if ready for a ball and Billie had chosen a dull brown shirt, colorful poncho, tight jeans and plain dark brown cowgirl boots.
Micki Rogers: We welcome esteemed American period novelist Celeste B. Bush with her extremely gifted biographer Billie Summers.
The studio audience clapped politely.
Micki glanced at Billie: Straight from riding the range are you Billie?
Billie: If you mean horses, no. I’m scared of horses.
Micki: And so are most of us although we’re not Texans like you. Do you ride Celeste?
Celeste: No horses scare me as do motorcycles and most things other than automobiles.
Micki: So how did this literary collaboration between you two begin? I can scarcely believe Celeste that after years of refusing to be interviewed in depth you called up Billie to come and talk to you about writing your biography.
Celeste: No Billie was working at a library waiting to find a novel.
Micki: She wouldn’t have to look far. Libraries are full of novels.
Celeste: I meant the novel lurking within her. Out of interest she asked me about my early life and for once I failed to divert anyone asking that question. I said I grew up in an orphanage and that kind of switched her on.
Micki: ‘I
bet it did. What did she say?’
Celeste: Omigod I can’t remember but I’m sure she thought it was raining pennies from heaven.
Micki: Billie there’s not a single reference to sex in this biography. Do you think you failed to ask the right questions?
Billie: I don’t believe Miss Bush know about sex.
Celeste almost fell out of her chair laughing and the studio audience screamed in laughter at Billy’s straight face and Celeste being in near hysterics.
Billie: Actually we made a pact. She allowed me to write about her almost secret marriage to William Acland and to explain the reason for that providing I made no mention of her having sex with anyone or anything in my manuscript.
Celeste (arching an eyebrow): Sex with things?
Billie: Miss Rogers this is a family show.
Micki: Oh of course. Well that saved a couple of bleeps. Why did Miss Bush marry late?
Billie: She had no wish to have something happen to her child or children if something dreadful happened to her and they experienced the hardships of orphanage life that she did. So she married after passing through childbearing age.
Micki: Omigod how tragic.
Billie: Yes but revelations like that make my book a great read. It has nothing to do with the writing.
Micki: Celeste?
Celeste: The word for that is something that comes out of the backside of a Texan bull. The creative genius of this young writer brought my life alive to me when I read her completed manuscript. My foster parents, who are now in their nineties, read it to each other they said often with tears flowing because it seemed as if Billie had been there with us in those early days.
Billie: I cried when Miss Bush told me about her years in that orphanage after being found as an abandoned baby and I cried when writing.
Micki: Well that obviously shows and today’s big book launch has been a big day for both of you.
Billie: And for Mr and Mrs Bush. They know Miss Bush would have hated talking about her days in the orphanage and appreciate she did so in public to acknowledge who they gave her a real life.
Celeste: And that’s the truth and it happened just like Micki has said. My foster parents were overcome reading what I’d thought about them because until reading my praise and gratitude, they’d thought I’d only half-loved them. I owe Billie everything.
Micki (sniffing): Oh that’s so lovely. Time to wind up. Parting words from you Billie.’
Billie: I began reading Celeste B. Bush from the age of fourteen and adored the novels I read. People all over America can now read the unexpurgated story — apart from the sex — of Celeste B. Bush.
Celeste: This might not seem profound but the day I first met Billie she told me that she’d read seven of my novels and I asked which one had she liked best. And she said, ‘My favorite was ‘Chase O’Hara, Rancher.’ She was depicted as being lean and strong, with a hairy upper lip but what attracted men was her flaming red hair’. I asked how long ago had she read that novel and she said seven years ago. I shall die happy knowing a little piece of me helped form the foundation of a brilliant creative writing career that awaits her.’
The studio audience as one rose and applauded, no one being sure who was being applauded.
‘Thank you ladies for being my guests tonight,’ Micki shouted above the din.
Billie left Houston next morning with her mother and two days later went to LA where she met a woman from the marketing department of her New York publisher and a hired professional public relations woman to begin an across America whistle-stop promotion of the bio.
The popularity and curiosity of Celeste was such that books sold by the truckload and ran into four new print runs. By the time the three females reached New York Billie was one third of the way through her next novel she’d started two weeks after the bio entered pre-print stages. She’d resigned her library job before leaving for Houston because she had more than sufficient money to support herself. It was just a matter of deciding whether to stay put or to relocate. It was tempting to stay because her mom didn’t bother her unduly and they liked each other’s company. But how do you meet guys when living and working at home?
Janice remained calm when Billie said she’d be moving out.
‘I want to find somewhere calm and peaceful, by the water with not too many people about.’
‘Well you’ve stayed longer than what I thought you would. Any ideas Casper?’
‘Yeah, if you want peace beside the water I’ll call Amy to see if their holiday house near Corpus Christi is tenanted. They don’t appear to use it much these days.’
Billie smiled. ‘Oh I remember. The property fronts the shoreline.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Please call her now dad.’
‘You’ll need a better vehicle to get about in that area and to get along rough roads to hike in the parks and to cross causeways to beaches,’ he said.
An hour later after securing the holiday home for Billie for six months, Casper took her out to look at cars Billie ended up trading in her old small Ford for a two-year-old red Jeep Wrangler and was very pleased with it.
The next day was Sunday and Casper spent time with Billie ensuring she had a very good understanding of her new vehicle and could change a flat tire. She then announced over dinner she’d leave for the Corpus Christi area next morning.
‘I thought you’d be off as soon as you were familiar with your new vehicle,’ her mom said, dabbing her eyes.
‘Aw mom, come on. You guys can visit me next weekend.’
Janice sniffed, ‘But I thought you’d not wish to be disturbed?’
‘No, I’m intending to use weekends for rest and recreation. I’d really like you to visit me this next weekend and mom you can phone me whenever you like but preferably from early evening. You’re not really losing me. Look after her dad.’
Billie left for the holiday house after breakfast. It was located with direct access to a sea inlet off Farm to Market Road 1781 at Rockport, in Aransas Bay just beyond Corpus Christi, less than a four-hour drive east of her parent’s home. She was looking to be stimulated because her novel was dragging a bit and she thought a change in environment might stimulate her.
The working title of her manuscript was ‘Wretched Rachel’ and would trace the thoughts and actions of a delinquent daughter from age sixteen until she returned home at the end of her first semester at college, changed and more than ready to apologize to her parents for having made their life hell.
Billie had stayed at the house for most of two summers when she was a teenager and so knew the area quite well. The discounted rental included full use of a flat-bottom center-console fishing boat with a 25 hp electric-start Yamaha outboard, a deep-sea kayak and a choice of three mountain bikes.
It was all she wanted for the moment, apart from a guy on hand, not a live-in.
Billie called in to stock up at H-E-B Foods on Highway 35 where she used to go with her aunt and two cousins.
The checkout lady said, ‘Just passing through dear or are you new here?’
‘I’m staying for a few months at Dan and Amy Rayburn’s place, they’re my aunt and uncle and I last stayed with them when I was seventeen.’
‘Oh Amy, and I know her very well. What’s your name dear?’
‘Billie, um Billie Summers.’
‘Omigod, you’re famous.’
The woman yelled, ‘Hey everyone, we have a celebrity at the checkout. She’s Billie Summers who wrote Celeste Bush’s bio. We saw her on TV recently. She’s staying out by the airport facing into Copano Bay.’
Billie fumed, god why didn’t the woman announce the color of her underwear and be done with it.
Acutely embarrassed, Billie wanted to rush off but the checkout operator seemed to too heavy-fisted to count the bills Billie had handed over but it became obviously was just stalling. Women a
nd two guys rushed up to introduced themselves to Billie and to welcome her to Rockport-Fulton.
Actually it turned out better than expected. A Sarah Masters introduced herself and said she remembered Billie. ‘I live close by where you stayed with your aunt and uncle a few years back. Amy and I went to school together and have been friends ever since although she lives most of the time in Austin these days with her family.’
‘How lovely to meet you again Mrs Masters. Please pop over some time for coffee. I’m here to write but I do need coffee breaks.’
Well thanks to loud-moth at the checkout she’d met a friendly neighbor,’ Billie thought. God everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. She should be writing.
A couple walking their dog waved as Billie slowed and waited for them to stroll by before she turned into the property on which was sited one of the more modest homes in the fairly scattered neighborhood. It had no pier but the neighbors weren’t fussy who walked on their piers to fish after they’d received permission to do that. Billie would be able to hook up the trailer and launch the boat off the lawn into Copano Bay.
Paradise.
Well yes for a writer seeking the quiet life.
Billie unloaded and then explored the house and decided to sleep and work in the loft, with its better views, but to use the facilities downstairs of course including watching TV.
Two hours later she answered a knock on the door and a guy aged about twenty-five said, ‘Mom sent me down with this apple pie and I’m to say welcome and you may use our pier.’
‘On, and who are you?’
‘Jim Struthers.’
‘Oh hi Jim. I’m Billie Summers.’
‘Cute name.’
‘Thanks. I haven’t stocked up with beer but have some wine. Please come in and…’
‘Are you sure? You’re alone aren’t you?’
‘Yes,’ Billie said looking surprised. ‘But there’s no law preventing me from inviting any caller of any sex in for a drink.’
‘Mom will not think kindly of you if you invite me in. She’s a lay preacher.’
‘And what are you Jim?’
‘A pilot. I fly tourists to places and sight-seeing over the mainland bays and out over the foreshore islands.’
‘Well in that case I choose a pilot who’s close to my age rather than your mother who sounds a little straight laced for me. Step inside before I drag you in.’
‘Um you sound like my kind of girl… or rather woman.’
‘Thanks pal. Here’s wine straight out of my shopping bag. Please open it and pour.’
When they were seated and had toasted to ‘the good life’ as proposed by Jim, Billie asked, ‘Do you have your phone?’
‘Yes ma’am.’
‘It’s actually miss but call me Billie. Who else is at home?’
‘Just mom and my young sister. Dad works at the international airport as an aircraft engineer and will work until 8:00.’
‘Please call your mom and sister over.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Call them.’
Jim dialed and said, ‘Him mom. I’ve delivered the pie and the lady has invited me in for a drink and has suggested you and Silvana come over. You ought to meet her… she’s young and pretty and knows what she’s about. I’d say very sophisticated.’
‘I’m in here because she invited me mom. Please don’t bitch. Just come over and meet your new neighbor.’
Jim slid his phone shut and sighed. ‘She’s mad that I came into your house when we don’t know you and you’re young.’
‘Never fear Jim. I’ll take responsibility for that if she kicks up. How’s the wine?’
‘Better than the crap we drink.’
‘Oh please Jim don’t mention that when your mom arrives.’
He grinned and motioned should he answer the knock and Billie smiled and nodded.
A beautiful young girl and an attractive and well-dressed woman entered.
‘Omigod,’ said the eighteen-year-old, gaping at Billie.
‘Silvana, please don’t use that language, said her mom. ‘What is it?’
‘This is Billie Summers who wrote the biography on Celeste, dad’s cousin.’
‘Don’t be silly darling. It can’t be. That woman would live in Dallas or perhaps New York.’
‘Welcome Mrs Struthers and your lovely daughter. I’m staying here for a few months.’
‘My goodness, you are very beautiful. Please call me Caitlin and this is my other child Silvana.’
‘What a beautiful name Silvana. I have some copies of the biography with me. Would you like me to autograph one for you?’
‘Oh would you please. I’d be honored.’
Aspen
- 13.03.2022
- 25
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