Title:
Scar Tissue
Author: MC Domovitch
Publisher: Lansen Publishing
Pages: 396
Genre: Romantic Suspense/Thriller/Paranormal
Author: MC Domovitch
Publisher: Lansen Publishing
Pages: 396
Genre: Romantic Suspense/Thriller/Paranormal
When successful model Ciara Cain wakes up in
hospital, remembering nothing of the weeks she has been missing, her only clues
are the ugly words carved into her skin. According to the police she was a
victim of the Cutter, a serial killer who has already murdered three women. For
her protection the police and her doctors give a press conference, announcing
that because her amnesia is organically caused, her memory loss is permanent.
But, whether her memory returns or not is anybody’s guess.
Overnight, Ciara’s glamorous life is gone. Her scars have killed both her modelling career and her relationship with her rich boyfriend. With nothing to keep her in New York, she returns to her home town of Seattle, moves in with her sister and goes about building a new life. But when her sister lets it slip that Ciara’s memory is returning, the killer comes after her again. If Ciara is to stay alive, she must keep one step ahead of the Cutter.
Overnight, Ciara’s glamorous life is gone. Her scars have killed both her modelling career and her relationship with her rich boyfriend. With nothing to keep her in New York, she returns to her home town of Seattle, moves in with her sister and goes about building a new life. But when her sister lets it slip that Ciara’s memory is returning, the killer comes after her again. If Ciara is to stay alive, she must keep one step ahead of the Cutter.
For More Information
- Scar Tissue is available at Amazon.
- Pick up your copy at Barnes & Noble.
- Discuss this book at PUYB Virtual Book Club at Goodreads.
Chapter
One:
I don’t
want to die.
That single thought pounded through her mind as she hurtled through the
woods. The blackness had dropped all at once, and now the trees were merely
darker shadows against a dark night. The rain came down hard. Lightning
cracked, sounding so much like a gunshot that she muffled a scream. But she had
not been hit. She was still alive. She ran on.
Branches and bushes whipped at her, scratching her arms and legs. She
tripped over an exposed root and crashed to the ground, but was back on her
feet in an instant.
A brilliant flash of lightening was followed by thunder. Ka-boom.
Everything that had been black a moment ago became white. Had she been spotted?
No, surely not.
A crunching sound came from her right. She whipped her head toward it and
picked up her pace. Her breathing was ragged, short puffs of steam in the
frigid April air. It couldn’t have been more than fifty degrees. Sweat and rain
mixed with the dirt and blood from her countless wounds and ran down her face
and neck in rivulets. Thanks to the adrenaline pumping through her veins, she
was numb to the cold and the pain, but she would feel it later—if she got out
of here alive.
Please God, let me live.
But she’d had no real food for days, no water except the occasional sip.
Her body couldn’t keep going much longer. She was close to collapsing.
Must. Keep. Going.
If she wanted to stay alive, she needed to put as much distance as possible
between herself and her captor. She had no idea how long she’d been running or
in which direction she was going. Had her kidnapper even noticed she’d escaped?
Was that monster already on her trail, getting closer with every passing
second? A horrendous thought came to her. She could be running in a circle, her
every step bringing her closer to her jailer. A sob escaped her throat.
Dear God. Please. Please.
She squinted, trying to see through the inky night. There had to be a road,
a house, something, and then she saw them. Some distance away there were
lights, and her last vestiges of hope crashed.
Flashlights.
Had a posse been formed? Were they closing in on her? In her panic, she
tripped and came down hard, again. This time she thought she might have broken
an arm. She was crying now. She’d come so close. But she would be caught. And
she would die.
She looked up at the lights moving through the trees, and blinked. Could
her imagination be playing tricks on her? She stared, and in moment of clarity
she understood. Those weren’t flashlights. They were headlights. Headlights
meant cars, and cars meant a road. Just ahead, maybe a few hundred yards
farther, lay safety.
She had to keep going. She struggled to her feet, cradling her sore arm.
She made her way, pushing through brambles and bushes until she came to a steep
embankment. She crawled up and then over the guardrail. A car whizzed by,
blaring its horn.
“Wait. Stop!” she yelled at the next one when it was still a distance away,
but it drove by too. “Help me!” she shouted after it. She limped into the road,
determined to make the next one stop. Tires screeched. There was a thud. And
then she went flying through the air, coming to a bone-crushing thump on the
hard pavement.
Through the mist in her mind she heard the sound of running footsteps, then
a woman’s voice. “Oh, my God. Is she dead?”
A man’s voice, pleading. “I swear. It wasn’t my fault. She ran right in
front of me.”
The woman again. “I think she’s still breathing. Call an ambulance. Now!”
She leaned into her. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
The words came to her from a great distance, growing further and further
away, until they were only a faint echo. She drifted into nothingness.
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