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Excerpt Reveal
Finding My Fight by R.G. Corr







A perfect marriage? A beautiful home? Things are not always as they seem.

To everyone they knew, Ginny’s life with Blake Daniels was perfect. When Blake’s job takes them away from home and the friends Ginny has known since childhood, things start to change. On their own, in an isolated house, the man who held Ginny up through her mother’s passing is no longer the kind, supportive man she thought she’d married. In his place now resides a cruel beast whose only desire is to control her. Ginny’s life as she knows it, becomes indelibly marked with every bruise he leaves on her, and every callous word he sends her way.

When the unthinkable happens, Ginny is forced to find the strength she needs to leave and rebuild her life without Blake. Yet nothing could have prepared her for what was still to come. Ginny believed the nightmare was over, but it was only just beginning. Her husband is back, and there’s only one reason he’s here.




GENERE
Romantic Suspense

DATA DI PUBBLICAZIONE
25 Ottobre 2018




FINDING MY FIGHT
R.G. CORR




Benvenuti alla prima tappa del blog tour dedicato al nuovo romantic suspense dell'autrice R.G. Corr‼ Io ADORO questa cover, e la trama mi piace tantissimissimo :D Questo romanzo finisce dritto dritto in WL! Vi lascio al super estratto *_*






His shoes click across the floor as his feet enter my vision. They come to a stop, but I don’t expect his hesitancy to last long. When I bring my eyes up to meet his, he’s standing above me, appearing more powerful and in control than ever. I know the position will please him. I also know he’s going to hurt me, no matter what else is said or done tonight.
I inhale deeply, in preparation, but for once I’m going to make this pain count.
“Each time you raise your hand, it’s one step closer to losing me. I don’t know how it will happen, Blake, but it won’t always be like this. Steadily but surely you’re making me believe that I don’t matter.”
“What are you talking about?” A scowl crosses his brow, and his intolerance is evident.
“If I don’t matter then I won’t care what happens to me.”
I feel the weight of his stare but refuse to look away. Not this time because I’m not sure I have anything left to lose. The rise and fall of his shoulders become more exaggerated as his breathing becomes heavy. Movement of his fingers as they curl into fists causes me to lower my gaze. They’re level with my head. I know it’s going to hurt, but running serves no purpose. It will only hurt more.
I open my mouth wide in shock as he turns and storms out of the room. Keys scrape along the bowl right before the door is slammed closed. Revs from his car’s engine spring to life before the wheels spin on the ground as he veers away from the house.
Breaths spurt from my mouth causing my chest to heave. Dragging myself up, I stumble my way to the sink in front of the window. The drive is empty. He’s actually gone.
My hands are trembling uncontrollably, and I shake my head in disbelief at the small show of defiance I displayed. Could this be it? Could he have shown some comprehension of what it is he’s been doing to us? To me?
A dreaded silence fills the house. I raise my hands in front of me and wonder why I can’t control the tremors that run through my fingers. I move one hand to my jaw and skim my fingers along the tender skin. It’s rare he marks my face but tonight his clasp was hard, and it’s still tender to the touch. But was that it? That’s all I get tonight?
I glance outside at the darkness of the night. Skimming past the trees, I wonder where he’s gone. If I’ve angered him or made him realise what consequences are in play.
“What’s happening?” I cry out in desperation.
The strength of the moonlight on the trees starts to build. I take a second glance before looking up at the moon, but I see only cloud cover.
Petrified, I look back to the lane. The light isn’t from the moon.
Blake’s car reappears at a speed that causes me to step back from the window. Even in the dimmed light, I see the gravel and dust spit out from behind the wheels. He slams his foot on the brakes, the red taillights illuminating the drive like the igniting of a fire.
The car door is pushed open with such force that it swings back on itself until Blake rights it. Then as he comes into view, he straightens himself up, displaying his full height. With a threatening glare, he looks to the window and directly at me.
My lips part, fear renders me immobile and unable to look away. He backs up a step and gently closes the door, his glare unmoving. An evil sneer kicks up the corner of his lip, and I know this time it’s different. This isn’t an act of anger residing from stress or frustration. It’s not even a threat. It’s a promise. An intentional assurance of pain.











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