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“Look, Cass. I don’t care how much you hate horror novels and how you get enough dealing with racism already, you need to read this book.” Courtney thrust the book at her again. “I’m serious. I think the Cassie in this book is meant to be you, and if it is, that means you and I both have a lot of things we need to reconsider our stance on.”
Cassie just rolled her eyes. Okay. Her name was Cassie. She was mixed race, born to a black father and a white mother. Her father had died in a bizarre and unexpected way, one she hadn’t told her friends the truth about but that no one had fully bought her explanation of a sudden heart attack. She lived in Cape Girardeau, Missouri. A bit freaky, yes, but anyone who had decided to put her in a book would likely have changed her name. That was standard practice for writers. Cathy was right there. “Like what?”
“For me, the existence of ghosts and vampires and other monster things, and how much I believe you about what happened to your dad. For you… even more. Since you’d already know the truth about ghosts.” Courtney’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Like Dean.”
“There’s nothing to reconsider with Dean,” Cassie snapped. She regretted telling her friends as much as she had already, because they were now convinced that she and Dean were star-crossed lovers who just needed to get their shit together. “I was wrong to break up with him when and how I did, I agree with y’all there, but I was not wrong to not get back with him when he came through after Dad’s death. I don’t care what you think you know, I know that much.”
“Look, just… read the book, okay? Just this one. Worst that happens is you hate it and that’s a few hours you’ll never get back, right?” Courtney wiggled the book, and with a massive sigh, Cassie took it. Whatever. It probably wouldn’t hurt, Courtney was right about that.
After reading the book, Cassie’s first instinct was to call a lawyer and sue Carver Edlund for invading her privacy. She probably would at least look into it. A call to the number provided for his agent changed her mind, and then a call from Carver himself thoroughly changed it. “I… I swear, I had no idea you were a real person. If I had known, I would never… god, I am so sorry for the sex scene being in there. There’s nothing I could’ve done to stop me seeing it, but some things don’t need to be…”
“Okay. Let’s take a step back from the sex scene and talk about how this happened,” Cassie said, as much as anything to stop herself from thinking about the fact that any fan of the book she ever met would know way more about her sex life than she would ever want them to. “I know the importance of protecting your sources, but…”
“You don’t understand,” Carver interrupted. “My sources aren’t people. I don’t do any research on my books. I get visions, and I write out what I see.”
Cassie blinked a couple times. “Visions? Like… like you see the future?”
“Well… for a long time, I honestly thought they were just super vivid dreams. I have no idea if what I’m seeing is future, past, or reasonably close to present. I don’t. Sometimes I make stuff up, but more often, I leave stuff out. Last names, obviously, anything that I don’t think is necessary to understand the hunt or that develops the characters or the relationships. I should’ve…”
“You didn’t know.” Cassie cleared her throat. “Do you know that Sam and Dean are real? Do you have any way to contact them?”
“If I knew they were real, I’ve have been calling them Sal and Dan. I never get phone numbers in my visions. I suppose you could try the Lawboy email from Skin? I left that intact because I thought the name was cute and it helped develop Sam’s character a little…”
“Thank you. And, word of advice? Start changing all the names. I suppose it’s too late for anyone you’ve used before, but you don’t want anyone else figuring out that these books are about real people.”