Saturday, April 18, 2015

Storyboard Saturday - Cassandra

Our characters are what make the story. Now, I know that I'm preaching to the choir here, but when the characters are silent, and the author gets in the way, then trouble arises. 

This past week I had to go back and re-edit areas like that. It isn't that I don't know my character. I've completed a few analyses on them; and this was the first novel I wrote several years ago, so I've had time to really understand them. 

But, I didn't. 
And, they weren't talking. 

Well just the last two days, it was like a dam burst. And now, we're both coming together.

And I readily admit, I was the problem. 

You see, I put too much of my own personality into the story. I don't use the G word, and never the GD word. My characters haven't felt the need, but I limited them. Once I loosened the reins; it's all coming together. 

I'd like for Cassie to tell you her story.

Cassie would you mind telling the audience your full name?

Hi everyone. Aine, thanks for having me today and telling my story. May I give a little history about me as well? 

Absolutely, Cassie. That just allows us to get to the good part sooner. 

Uh, huh. Maybe I should hold off, I know you. And I'm not sure I want all my secrets made public. Anyway. I am the second daughter of Rebecca and Ted Tierney. I have one sibling, Raegan, she's older than my by ten years. She's the creative one, plays piano and violin and can design a room or pull together a party with minimal effort, and in a short amount of time. 

Sounds like a nice family. 

We were. I mean Rae and I still are, but my parents were killed in a car accident five years ago, which, now that I think about it, actually began the rest of my story. 

Do tell.

In good time Aine. I know you can't wait, but I want to tell it right. So, where was I. Yes, my name. My parents named me Cassandra Breland Tierney. And, I look completely different than anyone in my family. 

How so.

My mother had black hair and pale skin. My father's Irish heritage gave him red hair. My older sister is a combination of the two. But, I take after my paternal grandmother, somewhat. She was tall like me and a Black foot Indian. 

But your hair is quite blonde and you have hazel eyes. 

Uhmm. That's where we differ.

It was her and dad's love of horse that I inherited as well. 

So, you own a horse farm. 

Yes, that's putting it mildly. 

How would you put it. 

No. I agree with you, but the media, and my peers, well, they would argue with you. 

How so? 

We've had one Triple Crown and Breeders's cup winner in the last seven years. And two major wins, one the Preakness and the other Belmont Stakes.  

That's quite an accomplishment. 

Yes, it is. It all began when my father went to Ireland and purchased Sultan for me for my nineteenth birthday. 

An image of Justin descending the stairs, shirtless popped in her head. Fanning her flaming cheeks, Cassie remembered he was one heck of a man. Remembering being in his arms just days ago, he still felt good. Yeah, he’s bulked up a little.
Cassie pushed away from the desk, leaned back in her chair, and examined their past. Images of her body molded to his slow dancing right after Sultan won the Preakness his fingers caressing her back, his lips trailing fire across her temple. Her hardened nipples straining against the thin fabric of her dress, suddenly feeling his palm cupping her buttock, pulling her into his steely erection; if her father hadn’t called Justin over to meet friends, they would have become lovers that night. 
Shaking off other images of their flirtatious, rocky courtship, finally coming together in anger and desire the year after her parents died, and Justin’s abrupt departure, Cassie searched her mind calling up what she knew of his character.
They met seven years ago when her parents purchased Sultan for her nineteenth birthday. One look from Justin and all her future plans fell by the wayside. Oh, she had tried to stay away. He made her so angry treating her like a child. He may have kept his distance, but everywhere she turned he was there. Arms crossed leaning against the barn door, watching her groom. Sitting at the table, much like he did now, talking of horses and home. His fingers, circling her wrist or upper arm, pulling her into him as he calmly, but with a force of a hurricane, told her what he was going to do to her body.
A shiver of delight ran down her spine. Image after image of the five years they spent together, off and on bombarded her brain; she couldn’t separate fact from feelings.
Her gut told her Justin wasn’t the criminal. Until she had proof, one way or the other, she’d keep her eye on him? Whoa, back up girl, so not happening. Remember what happened at the lake and in the truck and in the library… crap. Cassie dropped her head to her chest. I’m screwed. 

Wow. You two have been through a lot. 

There's more to come. 

Do tell. 

All in good time Aine. See you next week. 

Hey, that's my line. 

Hah. Sorry girl, I just couldn't resist. 

Yeah, yeah. 

You know you love me. 

I do. That's why you'll be back next week. 

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