You know your son better than anyone. Don’t you?
When critically ill Jacob Wilson is given a life-saving heart transplant, his parents are relieved that their loving son has been saved.
However, before long, his family are forced to accept that something has changed in Jacob. Their once loving son is slowly being replaced by a violent man whose mood swings leave them terrified – but is it their fault?
Jacob’s girlfriend, Rosie, is convinced the man she loves is suffering from stress. But when his moods turn on her, she begins to doubt herself – and she can only hide the bruises for so long.
When a terrible crime is committed, Jacob’s family are forced to confront their darkest fears. Has the boy they raised become a monster? Or is someone else to blame?
I am thrilled to be taking part in The Darkness Within. Today, I’m delighted to be able to share with you an extract from the book! Be sure to also check out the people on the blog tour!
[Extract from Chapter 1 pp. 2-3]
He looked at Rosie now, cowering in the corner of the bedroom, the one that was theirs since he’d moved in. Why she’d let him move in he wasn’t sure, but he was pleased she had. It was kind of her, but then Rosie was kind. He could admit that even now when she’d got on his nerves and made him hit her. Had she been a horrible bitch, a slag, like his mother, he could have better justified hitting her. He’d gone to his mother’s house first on his release from prison but she hadn’t wanted him. No surprise there; she’d never wanted him, not even as a baby. The shrink he’d seen in prison had said his mother could be part of his problem – his anger stemmed from her lack of nurturing and ultimate rejection of him. But it couldn’t be helped. No one was perfect; not his mother or even Rosie for all her kindness and forgiveness.
The bedroom had been decorated in pale pink when he’d first moved in. ‘Yuck,’ he’d said to her when he’d first seen it, and she’d laughed.
‘Jesus!’ he’d exclaimed as he’d looked at her collection of china dolls in period costumes arranged on a small satin-covered chair. ‘Dolls in my bedroom! What do you take me for? A nancy boy?’
He’d told her the dolls would have to go, but she hadn’t understood to begin with because they were still there for another two days. Then he’d got angry that she hadn’t done as he’d told her and he’d thrown the dolls and the chair across the room.