Framed By My Son: The Survivor's Story

From the back cover

The acrid smell of burning pine was a ghost I shouldn't remember, clinging to the air inside the Montana wilderness lodge.

One moment, I was plummeting from a cliff, the faces of vengeful families screaming above me, my son' s betrayal a fresh, gaping wound.

The next, Caleb' s panicked voice cut through the heat, "Mom! The fire' s out of control! What do we do?"

But this time, I saw past his feigned fear, a flicker of greed and excitement in his eyes – the same look he had when he delivered the doctored audio that sealed my fate.

In my previous life, his cry had propelled me into action; I fought the blaze, saved everyone, only to wake up to a sheriff' s grim face and the news that the bunker' s ventilation had been sabotaged, killing them all.

They found a flare gun and accelerant in my cabin, and Caleb' s faked recording, my twisted voice wishing the "rich old geezers" would "just disappear," was the final nail.

The powerful families, grieving and furious, cornered me on a precipice, their raw hatred sending me over the edge.

Now, reborn in the heart of the inferno, I knew the bunker was a death trap, my son a traitor, and my ex-brother-in-law, Brian, the puppeteer.

This time, as Caleb watched, I didn't grab the fire extinguisher; I calmly picked up a can of lantern oil, ready to feed the flames.