Contemporary Romance, M/F Dialogue
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Middle Aged (35-54)Accents
North American (General) North American (US General American - GenAM)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
she stepped onto the concrete barn floor. Diana craned her neck to stare up at the detailed wooden beams comprising the arched ceiling. It reminded her of a covered bridge. Then the smell of horseshit met Diana's nose. Any romanticized notions of stables were overwhelmed by the underlying scent of manure. A horse or two poked heads out of their respective pens, air puffed through one set of flared nostrils, the other nade in Diana's general direction, raking and scraping echoed through the hall an open pen down on the left, the probable source of the noise. What's up brit Bonnie, giving you trouble again. A low baritone called out out of sight, Jesse. Campbell Diana tried to recall the voice of the 13 year old stable hand wanting to reconcile it with what she heard. The only thing she could remember about the kid with certainty was the damn cowboy hat he always wore and that he always seemed to be around when she tried to get some time alone with billy, little bit of a smartass, too. Hi Mr Campbell Diana's ankle boots shuffled through the straw. Her gaze kept dropping to the ground, wanting to avoid any unexpected surprises of the ship variety. She held the folder tight to her light corduroy jacket. I can come back if you're busy. A shadowed set of head and shoulders backlit by sunshine spilling in from the other end, appeared out of the pen. Always busy. Be right with you. The voice rumbled out a shift in tone to business that Diana easily caught. He disappeared again. Deanna planted herself in the middle of the stables and rocked back on her boot heels. Her inquisitive inventory noted, a bookcase of paperwork and manuals, and what looked to be medications and supplies for animal care. A door slightly ajar offered a glimpse of something that looked like small living quarters with an office set up. She leaned to her right to try and steal a better glance inside. How can I help you? She turned to catch the figure approach, brushing gloved hands together, the confident stroll in cowboy boots on a pair of solid bow legs, filled out faded jeans to perfection. A prominent oval belt buckle with the initial J looked familiar. Her stare made its way upward, taking in the black t shirt stretched over an impressive chest biceps, pushed the limits of the sleeves, wide shoulders pushed back as he seemed to grow in height. Once he halted his hands now at his waist as he waited when her gaze landed on his face. Oh, what a face! Diana shook her head. Wait, there's no way this, this is jesse! When he stepped into a shaft of sunshine, his eyes lit up crystal green. A jaw clench hidden under a bit of scruff, added to the serious return investigation of Diana's face. Then she saw the look of recognition. A slight grin formed Princess Di Oh, that teasing nickname! The kind of teasing an 18 year old girl endured from a 13 year old boy and I roll in irritation every time she heard the name, why her dad had felt the need to tell this boy that she had been named after Lady Diana Frances spencer by her mother. She would never understand or forgive, but this man was not that boy anymore. She stared back hard. The adolescent face floated in her memory. There were remnants of that cute little boy, the slate cleft in the chin, those cupid bow lips that always had a pout, a scattering of freckles along his cheeks. She recalled the dirty blond hair that peeked out from under that damn oversized cowboy hat he wore all the time, symmetrical features, A pretty boy back then, even prettier man. Now, Diana gulped down the gasp forming at the base of her throat. I'll be damned! His slight southern good old boy twang escaped.