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Christie Cote

~ Author

Christie Cote

Tag Archives: prologue

Throw Back Thursday (10)

15 Thursday May 2014

Posted by Christie Cote in Blog, Books

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Tags

Breaking Pointe, creative writing, NaNoWriMo, new adult, novel, prologue, Realistic Fiction, revenge, teaser, throw back thursday

Throw Back Thursday-This is the prologue to the novel I wrote last November for National Novel Writing Month. It is a New Adult book that I plan to publish in the future. It hasn’t been edited yet, so the excerpt below could change. Tell me what you think! What is your throw back?

Breaking Pointe

Prologue

Pinned to the cold damp concrete floor dark menacing eyes bore down on me. I can’t do anything but stare back at the eyes full of darkness without an ounce of remorse. The smell of stale beer, mildew, and urine is thick in my nose. I try to tell him to stop, but I can’t seem to form words. He enjoys the ever growing panic in my eyes because a wicked grin spreads across his face, showing how evil he is. I try to move, wanting nothing more than to push him away and kick and scream, but my limbs and body are heavy and I can’t do more than twitch.

I watch in horror as he runs his fingers over my right cheek and continues to trail them down my neck, shoulder, and arm and continues down, further and further. It feels like I have cockroaches crawling all over me and I’m pretty sure if I had normal functions working in my body right now I would puke.

“You asked for it sweetheart.” His gravelly voice hit me as he continues to run his hands over me. The fog that has been clouding my brain wasn’t that thick because I know I never asked for this. I don’t even understand how this happened. I only had one drink, and I never put it down. I’m not that much of a lightweight; even if I were it wouldn’t inhibit my body from being able to move.

“Stop playing with your food before we run out of time,” another voice chastises, but I can’t see whom it came from. Dark eyes glares beyond my head, and if looks could kill, his sure as hell would. Flipping his attention back to me, he grabs my hair with one hand jerking my head back and rips my dress off with his other hand. I can feel the material cut into my skin before it gives away, and tears apart, and with it I’m ripped apart.

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