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Discussion Guide included in back of book -The guide will accommodate those who wish to share in a small-group setting and those who wish to contemplate alone. The true accounts of my personal abusive marriage narrative are revealed with the intent to engage the reader in self-reflection and self-awareness, and much more. Excerpt: The crack produced a thin stream of light just to the left of Keven. There he was, seated precariously on the edge of the bed, and softly murmuring something unintelligible. Of course, what caught my eye first was the upright barrel of a shotgun and Kevin resting his…mehr

Produktbeschreibung
Discussion Guide included in back of book -The guide will accommodate those who wish to share in a small-group setting and those who wish to contemplate alone. The true accounts of my personal abusive marriage narrative are revealed with the intent to engage the reader in self-reflection and self-awareness, and much more. Excerpt: The crack produced a thin stream of light just to the left of Keven. There he was, seated precariously on the edge of the bed, and softly murmuring something unintelligible. Of course, what caught my eye first was the upright barrel of a shotgun and Kevin resting his forehead against the muzzle. Kevin placed the shotgun in a vertical position with the recoil pad against the carpet. Holding the barrel with both hands he rocked slightly back and forth as if to sustain his balance. Yes, things were indeed already well out of control. During this brief time, several shocking scenes replayed in my mind reigniting the pain and grief, the outburst and escalation of Kevin's anger over the photos, the torn marriage license that massacred any future joy of reminiscing, and "He called me a bitch." Who was this man I married? And, just as I was getting used to my new name, he's introduced another. There would be more new names to come.As far as I know, Kevin didn't see me peer into the bedroom that night, nor did he know that I dashed to the phone and called a crisis hot-line. Afraid to be heard, I whispered the details of the frightening ordeal. "He seems depressed." "I'm afraid he might kill himself." "Yes, he has a riffle." "What should I do?" Unfortunately the women said she didn't believe things were at a critical point and advised me to just wait and see. Who, manning phones for a crisis line, does that? What part of depressed and has a loaded riffle to blow his head off, or even worse, mine, doesn't sound life-threatening? Well, what did I know? I was a novice crisis-line caller. As it turned out, things did blow over, no pun intended. The predatory lion attacks his prey at the throat. Instinctively he knows to attack that which is most vulnerable. So it is with the predatory mortal male who seeks to wound and destroy. Unlike the lion who roars, having secured his prey and now fully satisfied, the appetite of the abuser remains insatiable.
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