Beautiful Delusions is the very first romance novel I ever wrote. It is a fast paced action adventure with a lot of steam. Blurb:
Violence… PTSD… affects my life and my childrens lives daily… The past has come back in the most dangerous way, at least that’s what I think. Am I being stalked or is it PTSD? This leads me to a counselor specializing in PTSD, unfortunately he turns out to be a friend from my childhood. He wants to help but how can I trust him when he left without an explanation.
I’ve found Kaylee, years ago I made the biggest mistake of my life and left. I’m a psychiatrist specializing in PTSD, overstepping the ethical bounds to help heal her from the violence of the past. With the help of my team I will keep Kaylee and her children safe.
My mom was calling. Fear filled me. I didn’t know what I was going to do. I was too tired and sore to think of a way out of this one. I asked her not to call me on his phone. I told her that I would find a way to call her later. If he found out I was trying to leave he would kill me for sure. She didn’t realize that he always had me talk to people on speaker phone.
There never was any privacy. So, when she started talking about the next train and getting me out of there, I saw the minute the realization dawned on him. The look on his face transformed instantly from passive to thunderous.
I tried to tell her that everything was okay and not to worry about me that I was fine being there with Tyler. It didn’t change the look of pure rage that coated his features though. The second I hung up the phone he was in motion hitting and kicking me, screaming in my face about what a stupid bitch I was. I ended up on the floor clutching my head, but it didn’t help.
He picked up a log from the fireplace and swung it at me as hard as he could, hitting me in the ribs repeatedly and then in the head. It was a few minutes later when he realized the neighbors could probably hear my screams, and he took off. I sagged to the ground and began to cry.
The worst part of the flashbacks I suffer from is that I feel everything as if it’s happening all over again. All the fear and pain. The guilt and the grief fill my body as I watch horrible memories from my past play out before my eyes. I can’t stop them and anything can trigger a flashback.
I woke up briefly—not long enough to know what had happened. My truck was in a ditch, and I felt a wet sticky substance sliding down the side of my face. I looked up to the road where my truck had obviously careened off the side.
The man with the evil eyes was smirking down at me before he turned around and walked away. The truck slid down the hill some more before it hit a tree and everything went black.