Surviving The Storm

HIGH-STAKES REUNION

After witnessing her boss’s murder, Aria Zimmerman isn’t sure she’ll make it to safety. She would already be dead if it weren’t for her ex-boyfriend David McGuire. Now she and David are in a race for their lives on the rugged Oregon coast. If their enemies don’t get them, the elements will. With a lethal tsunami bearing down on them, Aria has no time for regrets and little hope of reconciliation with her former love. Her only wish is that they live long enough to avenge an innocent man’s death…

David fought the steering wheel for control.

The car was still chugging forward but slowed ever so slightly. The sand dollar hanging from the rearview mirror swung in a pendulum arc from all the shaking. Lord, help! He needed to get out of the line of fire. I just need more time. Please hold off the waves.

The road widened and the Hummer sped past them. The gunman turned around, his torso just above the vehicle’s roof, until he faced them. This time the car didn’t obey David. “We’ve been hit!” The VW spun sideways, and another gunshot jolted the car. “They’re trying to leave us here.”

“If we don’t get to the evacuation zone before the tsunami hits, we won’t get out,” Aria said. “You can’t outrun—”

“I know,” David interrupted. He didn’t need to be reminded that if the gunmen didn’t kill them first, the tsunami would.

HEATHER WOODHAVEN earned her pilot’s license, rode a hot air balloon over the safari lands of Kenya, parasailed over Caribbean seas, lived through an accidental detour onto a black diamond ski trail in the Aspens and snorkeled among stingrays before becoming a mother of three and wife of one. She channels her love for adventure into writing characters that find themselves in extraordinary circumstances.

Surviving the Storm

Heather Woodhaven

Open rebuke is better than secret love.

—Proverbs 27:5

To my children: My favorite characters have names

I almost named you. Thanks for the inspiration. And if you guess what you were almost called, no complaining.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

TWENTY-TWO

TWENTY-THREE

TWENTY-FOUR

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

ONE

Construction dust was going to be the death of her. It was the third time in the past hour the vacuum gagged and sputtered to a stop, but this time it seemed to be serious about staying dead. The crew should have used a Shop-Vac for a preliminary cleaning of the remodeled set of rooms, but Aria Zimmerman suspected they’d skipped that step.

Aria took a swig from the lukewarm water bottle. She could find the new foreman she’d heard had just arrived, or ask her boss, George, for a new vacuum—a stranger versus the man who’d been like a second father to her the past two years. It was no contest.

Aria blew a stray curl off her damp forehead, but it only bounced up and down, tickling her eyelashes. Cleaning in resort areas paid well, but the hard work took its toll. She stood still for a moment in hopes her heart rate would decrease before she tried to talk to George. Thankfully, during her off hours, she sat in her computer networking classes where her sore back could take a much-needed rest.

Aria stared out the window and studied the cliffs in the distance. The beauty beckoned her to call it a day and hike amidst the Sitka spruce trees in the state park, an outcropping on the bluffs above the shore, and listen to the sound of the ocean waves crashing below.

While the state park was only a short distance away, there wasn’t easy access unless Aria was willing to cross the creek and climb up the few hundred feet through rocks and weeds. Not feasible. She’d need to drive through town, down the highway, and zigzag through the winding roads of the park to get to the trailhead.

Since there was already a dusting of snow on the coast, she’d have to settle for a stroll on the beach to loosen her muscles. Sand Dollar Shores was a small town on the Oregon coast, only busy during the tourist season. The unincorporated town didn’t have enough funds to handle the slightest flurry of snow. Locals knew enough to put on snow chains or hunker down until it melted, usually within hours.

There were twenty buildings spread out on the property of The Shoreside Conference Center and Resort. The top floor of the main center was fully remodeled, the last step being carpet, which could only be installed once Aria finished her chore. Her empty water bottle prompted her into action.

She stepped out into the open hallway and leaned over the balcony railing to survey the lobby below. Her stomach dropped at the distance between the two floors. Aria clenched the wood banister underneath her fingers and inhaled. Her new fear of heights took her by surprise at the worst of times.

A wall of windows framed the front of the reception area, displaying the Pacific Ocean. Too bad the dark clouds marred its beauty and, as a result, the lobby’s lighting seemed dim as well. If Aria had designed it she would’ve made the roof curved, without the hard lines and edges that now framed it. A domed ceiling would’ve allowed for more light.