Fraser by Susan May Warren EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Author: Susan May Warren
- Language: English
- Formats: PDF / EPUB
- Status: Available For Free Download
- Genre: Christian Mystery & Suspense Romance
- Price: Free
- File Size: 2 MB
Fraser couldn’t escape the carnage.
No, the dream—he knew it was a dream, for the screams, his own groans,
the taste of blood in his teeth played out just as he remembered.
So rather, it was memories that stalked Fraser Marshall, chased him
down, kept him twisting in his sheets.
The kind of memories that left him sweaty, raw, and shaken.
But not tonight.
Tonight, as Fraser woke, a rough, jerky yank to consciousness, his heart
slamming against his rib cage, he caught his breath and listened.
Someone was out there.
They’d followed him.
He blinked, just to clear his brain from the raw, feral scents of the
Nigerian savanna, the acrid smell of wood fires, and the sharp, raucous
arguing between Boko Haram terrorists.
Nope, he wasn’t tied up, his broken arm festering, aching, his gut tight
with hunger, reliving his mistakes and desperately fighting to survive, to
escape with the people he was supposed to protect.
Instead, he was back in his childhood bedroom in Minnesota. With the
hockey posters of his favorite Blue Ox players, the inspirational poster about
not giving up—written in Latin, featuring a man holding up a massive rock—
the few track trophies that cluttered his dresser. Alive and breathing.
Mostly.
He barely fit into the bed, his feet hanging off the end, and the tiny frame
groaned as he sat up, the covers falling to his waist. Holding his breath, he
listened.
Hard to hear breathing or even a scuff of sound over the thunder of his
heart, so Fraser took a deep breath, told himself to calm down, and pushed
himself to his feet.
The wooden floor creaked, and he stilled.
Wind sent leaves skittering across the roof, into the gutters. The porch
swing whined.
He looked out the window, and his second-story view revealed nothing
amiss in the yard, the vineyard spent of its harvest, the leaves drying, barren.
Sheesh, what did he think? That Abu Hassiff would send one of his thugs
—or even track Fraser himself—across an ocean to finish the job? Fraser
shook himself out of the thought and back into reality.
The nightmare was over. Time to wake up and move on.
Maybe the itchy feeling in his gut, the hyperawareness of every sound,
was simply his father’s words, uttered when he left with the rest of the family
for Europe, rising to haunt his oldest son. You’re in charge, Fraser. Please
don’t let anything happen to the wine.
Like all one hundred and fifty barrels of the wine, both the aging La
Crescent Gold, and the deep red Marquette Crimson might get up and sneak
away. But after the tornado a few years back that had damaged their fields,
Dad had practically hand-nurtured the vines back to life. This year might be
award-winning.
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