Cover Reveal + Exclusive Excerpt: FINDING MY FIGHT by R.G. CORR is Releasing October 25th! @RGCorr1 @InkslingerPR

Today we have the gorgeous cover reveal for FINDING MY FIGHT by R.G. Corr! Check it out and pre-order your copy today!

Title: FINDING MY FIGHT

Author: R.G. Corr

Genre: Romantic Suspense

Release Day: October 25th

About FINDING MY FIGHT:

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.

For her.

Pre-Order Your Copy:

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Other Retailers

Exclusive Excerpt:

He can’t be back. It’s impossible.

My breaths come thick and fast as I run frantically down the road. Peering around the edge of my hood, I check over my shoulder. I can’t see him. But just because I don’t see him, doesn’t mean he isn’t there… biding his time.

Hopelessness shrouds me as reminders of him continue to attack my mind. Blake… he can’t be here. He can’t be back. It’s impossible. The rushed pounding of my boots landing on the concrete causes my panic to surge. I want to cry out but what if he hears me?

Stumbling the last step to the house, I drop my keys and shopping bag to the ground below, the contents spilling over the path around my feet. A sob catches in my throat as I desperately pick up the key. I have to get inside, away from him. Raising my right hand, I try to steady the trembling with my left. When the key slides into the lock and the click sounds, I push on the door with all my weight, almost falling inside.

Leaving the shopping splayed outside, I spin around and slam the door closed. The echo reverberates around the small hallway, but I don’t pause for a second. I twist the lock and jerk the chain across. Only then, as I lean back against the door, do I fight to take control of my breaths.

How can this be happening? How can he be here?

My head judders from side to side in a state of shock and disbelief. The first tear forms before more follow, falling to my cheek.

The freedom I’ve had a taste of is now at an end. He warned me it would always be us, no matter what. He won’t let me go twice, and I know I won’t be able to survive. Not again.

Hesitantly, I tread into the kitchen. The room appears uncharacteristically dark, but I don’t put on a light. I don’t want to be seen. My focus flitters from corner to corner, door to door, searching for anything that is out of place—but everything appears to be how I left it.

I move towards the window, standing back as far out of sight as I can. Gently, my fingers slide in between the blinds so I can peer outside.

Dark clouds make their way across the sky, droplets of rain are starting to fall again, and the trees sway with the impending storm that’s been predicted. I scan over the few people that are walking down the path on the opposite side of the road.

When I don’t see him, I look beyond, to the open fields.

“Where are you?” I say out loud. “You’re dead. You’re supposed to be dead!”

Withdrawing my fingers from the blinds, I move quickly to the cutlery drawer and take out a sharp knife.

“Dead!” I whisper in desperation. The fear encroaches as I think of the unimaginable and the possibility that somehow my husband is still alive.

I retreat until my back hits the wall. Like I did months ago when I knew he was near. When I knew it was time.

I tighten my grip on the cold metal of the knife knowing that this time, I have no choice but to be ready for him.

My mouth feels dry, and I lick my lips reliving what fear feels like. The hairs on the back of my neck now stand on end and my heart thumps louder, taking over the silence.

My legs slowly start to give way, and I slide down the wall as a broken sob rips from my chest.

I thought the nightmare had ended, but as I sit, gulping back my cries in an attempt to remain quiet, I fear it’s only just beginning.

My husband is back, and there’s only one reason he’s here. For me.

When a voice calls out, my body jolts against the wall. The letterbox rattles as he calls my name through the opening.

My fingers tighten around the knife in my palm. He won’t hurt me. Not again.

About the Author:

R.G. Corr is a mum of three who has had an overactive imagination for many years. A discussion with a friend at a soft play area, amidst the noise and mayhem of toddlers, finally convinced her to put pen to paper and create her first novel.

R.G. lives in Nottinghamshire, England and although Sherwood Forest is just down the road, she prefers the sight and sounds of Holywell Bay in Cornwall to provide the inspiration she desires. It has become one of her most loved places.

When R.G. is not working or writing, you’ll find her nose deep in her kindle swooning over her latest book boyfriend.

 

Connect with R.G. Corr:

Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads | Newsletter

Enter R.G.’S Giveaway:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s